Two workdays per week are already scheduled to the point that working on the mural at Mooney Grove cannot happen.
One of those days involved taking a walk around a park in Exeter. It was a little bit boring (I am ruined by Mooney Grove for big empty-ish grassy lots masquerading as parks). To keep my interest, I listened to a fabulous interview on Donald Miller’s Storybrand podcast.
I also photographed wildflowers in the lawn, along with other items (non-volunteer) of natural color. These are weeds within a lawn but it doesn’t really matter. They get watered and mowed, and they add green to the landscape. This appears to be a squirrel and gopher-free park, so the grass is quite well-maintained.
First, the “weeds”:
Now, the planted colors:
And one weird little imposter: I thought this might be an aberrant red leaf even though there were several. When I enlarged the photo, I saw it is a piece of woven fabric, such as a petal to a silk rose. Ha ha, fooled me. A peculiar sight indeed!
Later that day during drawing lessons, we had an event worth sharing: a student finished a drawing and signed it! Way to go, Jane!
This is a longish story about a drawing student/friend.
Gina took drawing lessons from me in Exeter before I closed my studio there in December of 2001. She began a drawing, and then left lessons to return to school and become a nurse.
In about 2016, we listed some old roofing on Craig’sList (actually Cowboy Bert did it for us because we were not versed in that particular method of selling things), and someone named Gina answered the ad. We talked on the phone, and I gave her directions to our house.
When she and her husband arrived, Trail Guy went out to take care of the roofing transaction. He came into the house and said, “You need to come out here and meet these people”.
It was a happy reunion! Gina didn’t know where I had moved my studio or if I was teaching any more. She immediately said she wanted to return to lessons, because now as a nurse, her schedule is flexible.
Imagine my shock and awe when she returned to lessons and pulled out the very drawing that she had begun way back when!
Three years later, (or is it two? four? I didn’t write it down), Gina finished her drawing. It is possible that I am even more excited about this than she is!
Title ideas: Bob’s Borrowed Bike, When Dad Was Young, My Dad
When she began this drawing, we were both in our early 40s and could still see little things. Still, the rule is “no faces smaller than an egg” (and by now, I’m thinking ostrich egg). I discouraged her from drawing a face this small, but she is independent-minded and did an excellent job of capturing a likeness. This is her dad on a Harley.
Gina spent months researching Harleys, looking at each separate part of the motorcycle to get everything as accurate as possible. She spent weeks trying to discern what model of car that was. (It is a Kaiser, something we’d never heard of.) Together we spent years inching this drawing along, figuring out how to handle the various parts and textures.
Finally, finally, almost done, and then Gina decided to put clouds in the sky. She spent weeks looking at clouds, and each week she would announce, “I really don’t know clouds at all”, and all of us of a certain age would snicker.
The moment of completion.
But wait! There’s more! As Gina and I got to know each other, we learned that we both had been on the staff of Hume Lake Christian Camps in our late teens. I was in the mountains; she was in the foothills. I tossed or lost my staff photo decades ago, but as we have learned about Gina, she carefully preserves things. Recently, she sent me this, and WE WERE ON STAFF AT THE SAME TIME!
Nope, you won’t be able to spot us in this photo, purposely shown at a small size, so there.
P.S. Michael Smith-Jenson, I got your email. Thank you. I found you in this photo. I lost your email. I’m sorry. (I’m not nearly as careful or organized as Gina!)
Drawing lessons are suspended during the hot months of July and August, but they resume the day after Labor Day in the hot month of September. Therefore, today, let the lessons begin again!
I’ve been helping people learn to draw since 1994, and in the process I’ve learned to draw better myself. Even more important, I’ve gotten to know fabulous people, many of whom I consider friends and are still in touch with.
On paper, my classes are almost full. There is a spot or two from 3:30-4:30; all the regulars in that hour are high school students, so their schedules and their desires change pretty regularly.
If you would like drawing lessons, let me know via the contact thing on my site, or in the comments, or by email, or even a phone message to 559-561-7606.
Lessons are $55/month.
Clearly this girl has an interest in marine life! We are both a bit stumped on how to portray the water, but we’ll figure it out.
Everyone works from her own photo (guys are allowed too, but for some reason I don’t have any photos of them) at her own pace.
“Pick something you love, because you’ll be staring at it for a loooonnnngggg time.” – Jana Botkin
When my students finish a drawing, I take it home to scan and convert into a file that can be used for printing as cards or prints to share or sell; sometimes it is just so they can have a clean record of work completed. Sometimes it takes a few hours of computer work, but I love and appreciate my students so much that I just consider it part of taking lessons.
Here is a recently completed pencil drawing, before the computer work.
“Watering Girl” (my title for reference, not an official title) is a 5×7″ image on 8×10″ cream colored paper. The artist took the photo several years ago, and although we were both intimidated by the hair and the water, we figured it out together!
And here it is, ready to print.
Lessons are suspended for the months of July and August; we will resume on the day after Labor Day. It is possible that I will have a few spaces available if you or someone you know is interested. (Tuesday afternoons, Exeter’S Courthouse Gallery, $55/month.)
Art Inspired by Mineral King
SATURDAY, JUNE 29, 10-2, SILVER CITY RESORT
Featuring the art of Jana Botkin and the photography of Brett Harvey
P.S. When you comment on the blog, I have to approve the comment before it appears. This doesn’t mean that your comment didn’t “take”; it means I am not near a computer to release your comment. Thank you to those who go to the trouble to comment; I appreciate you sharing your thoughts!
Nice job, Mary! Thank you for all the years of drawing with me, and Godspeed to you as you begin an adventure in a new place! (P.S. Not sure exactly what “Godspeed” means, but it feels right here.)
ArtSpeak is what I call the pretentious vocabulary of artists. In my drawing lessons, and among my students, we have our own vocabulary.
I’ve recently begun using the word “embiggen”, simply because it makes me smile. One of my students asked if she should “smallen” something recently, and then another one said she needed to “outen” an edge.
Another student brought in a snow scene from an overcast day that she wants to do in colored pencil. We discussed the values (which is ArtSpeak for darks and lights). Usually we reserve paper color for the lightest areas, but the brightest snow isn’t going to be in sunlight on this drawing so paper color will be too white. I suggested that she keep it paper color, because by the end of the project, all the other colors will have “grubbified” the snow to the right color.
And don’t forget the time I explained to a student that she needed to “horizontalize her verticals.”
The most fun part is that we completely understand one another!
Three things happened in drawing lessons last week that made me smile or laugh. Maybe they will also affect you thus.
A drawing student finished this picture.
Nice work, Lou!
2. A drawing student said to me, “I can’t stand to draw”. I was horrified, until I realized that she meant she could no longer stand up while drawing because her feet hurt more while standing than her back hurts while sitting. We laughed for awhile on that one.
3. A drawing student brought me a present.
A box of pencils!
They are probably all HB or #2, and I will use them up gratefully. Plus, I will save the box and fill it with drawing pencils.
So many things to choose from for my final plein air painting.
More “tabby cabins”. I don’t know why that name bugs me. Maybe because it is whitewashing a segment of our history.
THIS is what I wanted to paint, but minus the palms.
Like this, but waiting for the light, which Laurel explained would come soon.
Step one, only 2 hours to complete this.
Step two, adding in the dark colors which make the light places appear.
Step three
Preparations for a wedding on the outside of the chapel. That’s unusual. I thought people got married INSIDE churches. But actually, very few do anymore. That’s a different topic for a different sort of blog.
Time for the critique. I didn’t get a good photo of this painting but have asked my hostess to photograph it for me when it is dry. I left it on top of her refrigerator.
And that’s all, folks. Suddenly, the carriage turned into a pumpkin. I told Laurel that the entire experience was so perfect that I’d think it was just a dream if I wasn’t sweating so much in the humidity.
So, back to the host and hostess’s home in Brunswick, rearrange all my supplies to pack for flying, say a quick good-bye (like ripping off a bandaid), hit the road for a silent drive back to Jacksonville (since I never did figure out the fancy radio), return the car, oops, go back to gas up the car (less than $3/gallon in Florida when it is over $4 now in Calif.), get a ride to the hotel, find some dinner (grits! because I was in the south), fall into bed for a 4 a.m. wake-up call. “Pumpkin”? More like a squash.
It was a fabulous adventure, a time of new sights, learning, friendships, challenges, new wildflowers, and, umm, sweating.
On day three of the workshop, we met at a conference grounds, full of chapels, tabby cabins (converted slave quarters), views of the water and marshes, bells playing hymns every 1/2 hour, weddings, guests wandering the grounds.
Perfect magnolia
Bill chose the tree.
Marty chose the closer tabby cabin.
I wanted to paint this cabin, but made myself choose something harder.
I chose this scene, because I have a bent toward bridges as a painting (and drawing) subject.
Funny to call this a “bridge scene” when there is more sky than anything else. Part of why I chose it was to learn from Laurel how to turn a fairly nondescript subject into something worth painting.
step one, following my sketch but with modifications after I eavesdropped on Laurel helping Peggy refine the same view (minus the bridge).
Step two, but what did I do this photo? It looks weird.
step 3
Step four
Then we had lunch, did a critique, and chose our afternoon subject. Not everyone wanted to do a second painting, but there was something I really wanted to paint.
And back at home, the kitties were just fine.
Show you tomorrow, our final travelogue post about my trip to Georgia.
Some of this will look familiar to you, since I did a rudimentary blog post while still in Georgia. Boy oh boy am I glad to be back with my laptop!
This is the continuation of the post on Monday about painting at the private estate on St. Simons Island. There were many possibilities, but I knew the clock was ticking so I needed to make a quick decision. I love architecture, so the back of the house won.
The formal garden with a maze was tempting.
This giant oak with wisteria winding up its trunk was interesting.
The moss was very interestingly weird, but would have been impossible to paint.
Fabulous house.
Simpler angle, and I could ignore the trees in the way.
Step one
Step two
Step three
Step four
Finished? I don’t know, because it looks so messy.
Critique.
This is the front of the house. There was so much to see, and too little time.
On day two of the plein air painting workshop, we were admitted to a private estate on 1000 acres on St. Simons Island. We drove about 1-1/2 miles behind a locked gate to reach the grounds of the home. Out of respect for the homeowners, I will eliminate many specifics but will show you photos.
We began the day with a tour by the caretaker, and then were set free to find a place to set up. This time we were on our own; Laurel didn’t tell us where or how to paint, although she circulated among us the entire time (and collapsed my beast of an easel on one visit!)
A couple of original Andy Warhol paintings, Jimmy Carter and Miss Lillian. (Remember, we were in Georgia.)
Oklahoma Judy, Georgia Bill, and Florida Marty discuss the various possibilities for painting.
This looks like a little canal, but sizable boats went past as we were painting.
The pool was about 1/5 full of greenish water.
After wandering around gawking, I chose this view. It was shady beneath the pergola of the pool house.
Step one.
Step two.
Step three.
Step four.
Step five.
Lunch!
Critique time.
After lunch, we put the final touches on our paintings and then chose a new location for the afternoon.
