Working & Wondering

A view from a home in Three Rivers that I will be drawing soon.

The week between Christmas and New Year’s Day has always felt like a freebie to me. I don’t work much, but spend time thinking about the previous year (did I actually do anything noteworthy?) and about the upcoming year (do I look as if I have a plan?).

Last week I thought about blogging, marketing, what to paint, what to draw, the 2020 calendar, and mostly about the upcoming book, Mineral King Wildflowers: Common Names.  I wondered how I got selected as the Best Artist in Three Rivers in 2018 and didn’t know it.

I made lists, calculated a year’s worth of mileage on my car, vacuumed the studio, called Huge & Rude (the telephone company) because the internet isn’t working very well (what’s new about that?), rehung paintings in the studio from Anne Lang’s Emporium (now closed), updated lists of available paintings, delivered paintings to the Mural Gallery in Exeter, put new art on the website, and generally wondered about my art business.

Where will I sell my work? What shall I paint? Is there a way to draw more? Is there a reason to draw more? How do I tap into those thousands of people blowing through town on their way to Sequoia National Park? Should I hire someone to teach me how to reach a wider market? Are little boutiques the right place for my work? If not, where is? How do I find more customers? Do I post to my blog too often? Why do so many people not even know what a blog is? Do I have to join the dreaded Facebook? Will this be the year I have to get a cell phone? Should I get my good camera repaired? Should I buy a better small camera? Who’s on first?

I often wonder about my art business, in case you were wondering.

Final Final Cabin Thoughts, Maybe

Someone’s Colorado cabin –definitely not small, rustic or rude

There are three distinct parts to cabin-ness:

  1. The building itself – small, rustic, basic, simple, often without electronic amenities. (But wait! What about the cabin pictured above?)
  2. The setting – rural, semi-secluded, in the mountains, taking an effort to get to (But wait! Have you ever been up Highway 180 to Wilsonia? And do these cabins look semi-secluded to you?)

    A Wilsonia road

    A Wilsonia neighborhood
  3. The culture – slower, focused on people instead of technology; a place to play, recreate and relax, mostly outside; a place where meals and fireplaces become events in and of themselves; returning to nostalgic pastimes either of our youth or of some idealized youth of our parents and grandparents.

Outdoor dining is a big part of cabin life.

Napping is a big part of relaxing at a cabin

See? Outdoor dining

Even outdoor cooking!

Fireplaces are a huge part of cabin culture.

Eat and run??

It seems that the culture part is the strongest determining factor of cabin life. Some of our cabin neighbors gathered in another location for several summers, due to illness of one of their group. One of them told me, “We do Mineral King things in Seattle, and Mineral King is present with us there.” (I probably paraphrased it beyond all recognition – Forgive me, Sawtooth Six!)

P.S. Most of the drawings in this post are part of the book The Cabins of Wilsonia, available here.

Boutique Ahead, Paint Fast

The Lemon Cove Womans Club’s Harvest Boutique will be on Saturday. This coming Saturday, October 20, from 10 a.m. until 4 p.m. Gotta get some things ready to sell!

These fruit and blossom paintings are on 5×7″ boards, to be displayed on mini easels. This is how they looked after the first pass over the boards.

 

Then, I decided there weren’t enough oils on canvas, so I quickly finished the 4×6″ pomegranate and added the pumpkins and Redwood with Dogwood. These are all forgiving subjects, so I can paint them a bit faster than architectural subjects, or Mineral King scenes with recognizable peaks.

Hot Wheels

Does it seem as if I am obsessed with Hot Wheels? My older sister’s first car was a ’68 Mustang, which was thrilling after only having giant station wagons and farm pickups at our address. Then I discovered Honda Accords, and have owned nothing but since about 1981. (This topic doesn’t seem to have anything to do with the business of art, but I do like good cars, and this is my blog. So there.)

My friend has a great looking 2007 Mustang convertible. Her mom bought it for herself on her 80th birthday, and my friend inherited it.

Samson liked it.

It appeared in my coloring book.

It was parked outside the workshop when I handed my friend the binder of drawings for the first coloring book. She is a quiet person, and when she was finished looking through the pages, she looked outside and calmly said, “Did I see my car”? I’d like to be calm, but I probably said something like, “HAR HAR HA HA HA IT SURE IS!”

And I like it.

But, I still wouldn’t dream of owning a car that my mechanic of the past 35 years won’t work on. Foreign Auto Works in Visalia only works on Honda, Acura, Toyota, and Lexus. So, Hot Wheels is just for fun, not something I aspire to. And it is fun, indeed!

More Solds

“Solds”? Is this really a noun? It is my world. Clearly the 6×18″ size is hot right now. Good thing I just ordered more canvases that size. I have several new ideas to paint in that format, so stay tuned.

Sawtooth Peak Oil Painting Continued

The layers continue to build on Sawtooth Peak, an oil painting.

As it was when you last saw it:

Another layer added to the sky:Another layer added to Sawtooth:

Another layer added to the lower ridges:

And more added to the lower ridges:Yo, Professor Layer, may I be finished with the sky and the peak and the lower ridges now? (Can you see Trail Guy’s visor in the background as he adds grommets to the Kaweah Artisans banner?)

When this dries, I’ll put in branches at the bottom edges. I think this wants greenery, or maybe it is fine as it is. . .

What do you think??

 

You Know You are Middle-aged When. . .

Rapid Change*, pencil drawing, title indicative of life as a middle-aged being

An older and wiser friend reminds me from time to time that life is like a roll of toilet paper–the closer to the end, the faster it goes.

I’ve been thinking lately that you know you are middle-aged when. . .

. . . you prefer hiking uphill to downhill because your knees kill you going downhill.

. . . you choose not to watch a movie because you don’t want to shuffle 3 remote controls and don’t understand why it is even necessary.

. . . your pastor, doctor and the president are all younger than you. (Not so with the current president, in case you were wondering.)

. . . you go to your class reunion and can’t find your friends among all the old people.

. . . you know the words to the orchestrated songs in the grocery store.

. . . you notice young people driving too fast instead of old people driving too slow.

. . . you recognize the word “update” as a euphemism for “complications and trouble ahead”.

Do you have anything to add to this list?

*Rapid Change is available for sale here.

 

Drawing Mineral King

It is Friday, and the only new thing I have to show you of Mineral King is a drawing. My weekends have been taken with memorial services (one last Saturday and another one tomorrow), drawing workshops, art receptions, business presentations. 

I’m not complaining, just ‘splaining.

The drawing is new. The scene is old, or perhaps “classic” is the right word.

Pencil drawing, “Mineral King From The Bridge”, 9×12″, unframed, unpriced, uncertain.

It has been awhile since I drew anything of Mineral King (except for water). Maybe a series of pencil drawings of Mineral King would sell as reproduction prints. Cards? Too much money to print, too little profit. But I’ll give that some thought too.

Want a laugh? Look at how I drew this scene in 1987.

Growth is good, unless you are a cancer cell.