Way Less Smoky, Where Am I??

On Thursday, the day started out with hazardous air, so I planned to work in the studio rather than the painting workshop. When I went to the house for lunch, I noticed that I could see things and it didn’t smell smoky! Wait, where am I?? So Trail Guy and I took a short walk, first time in a month, and then I was able to paint. And not just paint, but paint with the doors flung open! (The AQI was 52, considered “moderate”.)

I painted the edges on this one.

I started another orange painting.

What is that about? Someone saw the 12×12 painting called “In The Orchard” and requested an 11×14″ version of the same scene, but this time with a little rougher looking soil and some orange blossoms.

It was so wonderful to have clear air that I carried it outside to photograph for you.

It looks more normal hanging on the wall. Well, as “normal” as possible for a scribbly base coat.

Do you think I can get it to this level, PLUS orange blossoms? Of course you do. Thank you for your confidence in my abilities.

This one needed to be finished so I moved it to the easel from off the shelf.

Clearly there is a theme here. I will tell you why eventually.

On A Clear Day

First, something has gone wonky with my blog so the blog post title either doesn’t show at all or it is a little bit messed up.

“On a clear day” what? It certainly isn’t “you can see forever”. Last Wednesday, this is how things looked.

No, really, look! You can see the hills across the canyon, and the helicopters resumed flying to the fires.

This doesn’t qualify as a clear day in the olden days before wildfires ruled our corner of the world, but it qualifies as light enough to paint, and not smoky either, so I could paint with the doors opened up.

Remember this painting? I can’t even remember what I titled it anymore, but I do remember it is my favorite type of scene to paint, and that it was lacking wind machines, oranges, and a signature. We last saw it here on September 13.

Now it is completed.

Even with the doors open and a clear(ish) day, it doesn’t photograph all that well. How about if I prop it up on the ladder so you can further appreciate the completion?

Okay, standard disclaimer: it looks much better in person.

Next!Remember this? Of course not. Why would you? You last saw it on August 19.

Here I have begun adding sky, a color blue that I had almost forgotten to associate with looking up.

It now needs another coat, and then the detailing, my favorite part of drawing with my paintbrushes.

I wonder how Alta Peak and Moro Rock–wait! Moro Rock doesn’t really show in this painting because it doesn’t really show in the photograph I’m using, so I might have to revisit this.

Where was I? 

Oh. I was wondering how this view will look after (when? if?) this horrible fire ever ceases. It will have to run out of fuel eventually. Will this affect how sunsets look in the winter? Will we have winter?

Never mind. Let’s all just sing a happy little version of “It’s a Small World After All”, because the colors on my painting bring that song to mind.

You’re welcome.

P.S. 35 years ago today my life changed forever, for which I am very thankful.

An Extraordinarily Good Day

An interviewer once asked me, “What does a good day look like in your life as an artist?” 

(This post is just a bit of reminiscing about life before the fire took over our lives and thoughts.)

Rachelle brought her new lungs and her husband to see us, first time in person since the end of April. I fed them cookies. (They love my cookies so much that I spent $10 mailing some to them in LA. Yes, me, Frugal Queen of the San Joaquin!) Rachelle and I were so happy to see each other that our eyes may have leaked a little bit. Our hubbies were pretty happy to see one another too. 

Then, I finished this painting. (You have seen it on the blog by now).

I was on a roll so I pulled out this canvas.

I thought it was finished, and then I remembered that it needs a wind machine. You have also seen this one after it got scanned.

But wait! There’s more! A former drawing student (from 20+ years ago) emailed with the usual “You probably don’t remember me but. . .” My response was something like, “OF COURSE I DO!!” She came to my studio with her parents, husband, and baby who is too cute for words (yes, this from me, All Babies Look Alike). Out of respect for their privacy, I will just show you this one photo of me with L at my studio. We were both beside ourselves with delight.

To top it off, I sent invoices to 2 customers for recently completed commissions. Sometimes it feels as if I work for fun or for free, then a customer will remind me to send a bill. 

That was an extraordinarily good day.

P.S. I started designing a calendar for 2022, appropriately titled “Places and Things We Love” because. . .

Using pencil, oil paints and murals, I make art you can understand, of PLACES AND THINGS WE LOVE (for prices that won’t scare you).

Completed, Signed, Dry, Scanned, and Delivered

This is how things look around here in the late afternoon. This photo is my attempt to candy-coat things, or perhaps to put lipstick on the pig.

The five oil paintings that I worked on while in Mineral King are ready to see (and buy, if you are so inclined) at Kaweah Arts. (Except Nancy has closed her store for awhile because she has to be ready to evacuate, as we all do here in smoky Three Rivers.)

The subjects are all chosen to appeal to visitors and residents of Three Rivers. (Unless there is no more reason to live in or visit Three Rivers.)

FYI, the sizes are 6×12″ ($125), 8×10″ ($125), and 8×8″ ($100). As always, they look better in person, and California sales tax is extra.

Did you just hear the voices of Charlie Brown adults when you read that last sentence? Or did you hear Eeyore? (Where in the world did A.A. Milne come up with that now iconic name?)

The Best Version of the Classic Mineral King Scene, Ever

We cannot get to Mineral King just now. It probably looks like it did last year at this same time.

So, let’s just reminisce about better times and look at this important painting I recently completed. Can’t share any details as to why it is “important”, but I can show you the steps. I want this to be the best version of this scene that I have ever painted.

I began the painting while in Mineral King. The idea was to size and place the main parts.

Once I was back home in the studio, I began putting in the details, working from top to bottom, back to front (which means I paint the things that are farthest away first).

This is fun. It is classic “drawing with my paintbrush”, a frowned upon practice in the Art World. Hey Art World, are you wanting to buy my paintings? 

Silence.

Thought not. Well, I’m not making art for the Art World. Instead. . .

. . . I use pencils, oil paint, and murals to make art that people can understand, of places and things they love, for prices that won’t scare them.

P.S. It looks better in person (Yeah, I always say that, because they always do.)

When It Is Too Smoky To Paint…

… then I draw. (Unless I spend time on the computer designing a calendar, a new coloring book, a custom collage drawing, or some cards). But yesterday, I drew.

In 2022, the Gateway Bridge, AKA Pumpkin Hollow Bridge, will be 100 years old. This means there will be some attention on the bridge, which will probably bring about some opportunities to sell images of the bridge. Remember, I am a business person whose product is art, although I often act like an artist trying to figure out the business end of things.

People often confuse my favorite bridge, Oak Grove, with the Gateway Bridge. Let me help you with this:

Oak Grove: single arch, deep canyon of the East Fork of the Kaweah River, 6.5 miles up the Mineral King Road

Gateway Bridge: three arches, shallower canyon of the convergence of the East Fork and Middle Forks of the Kaweah River, just below the entrance to Sequoia National Park on Highway 198

This new pencil drawing is 9×12″, unframed, and I haven’t decided what to do with it yet. That will be a business decision, and yesterday I was focused on being an artist.

P.S. The top view is supposed to look like this:

Working Anyway (Cough cough)

If you think your cabin and cabin community might burn up along with your home and your town, you can spin in circles, nervously jabber on the phone, send endless emails and texts, putter, make a dog’s breakfast of your knitting, compulsively refresh websites with fire maps, randomly go through cupboards, seek oral gratification, pace, try to take deep breaths and then experiment with your new wheezy smoker’s cough.

You can also put on your big girl pants and do some work.

Montana Cabin, commissioned pencil drawing, 9×12″
The Orchard, original oil painting, 12×12″, $250 (plus tax, but you know that)
New drawing lesson with C via email – a demonstration on how to draw a dog eye from a fuzzy photograph of a now deceased black dog, the most difficult of all possible drawing situations.

Cough cough, hack, wheeze. 

It was actually sort of not too smoky yesterday so we took a walk. 

See what I mean about helicopters and the little marbles they carry?

Looking downstream – not too bad.

Looking upstream – yeppers, big wildfire, but smoke not as bad as it has been.

At one time, it looked this way. It could again. We could get rain. There is no reason to think that winter will never happen again. The peaks upstream don’t show in this drawing because it was winter and they were hidden by clouds, not smoke. Remember those days?

Oops. See what I mean about nervously jabbering?

Painting in a Makeshift Studio in Mineral King

These photos are from Three Rivers yesterday morning around 9:30 a.m. We are under mandatory evacuation from Mineral King and cannot go there. Evacuation is voluntary for our section of Three Rivers.

This post is about time spent in Mineral King approximately 2-3 weeks ago.

I guess that any place an artist decides to paint can be called a studio. I painted on the back porch of the cabin. (I hope I get to do that again next year.)

First, I started three of the paintings at home.

These three along with 3 blank canvases went to Mineral King. Because paintings have been selling well at Kaweah Arts , I wanted to keep my inventory up for them.

It wasn’t an ideal situation for painting, but I made decent progress over the course of several sessions (while avoiding red fir cones that the chickarees were dropping out of trees in the backyard).

It involved days of moving them inside to the stairs at night and back outside to dry during the day.

These 2 might be finished.

When the others are finished, I will scan them. Maybe I will remember to show you. Maybe they will show up in a post about sold paintings.

Soothing Subject as a Distraction

As I write this post, the Paradise Fire (part of the KNP Complex fire) has been obscuring all views at home and giving me a passive smoker’s cough. It is threatening our cabin in Mineral King (mandatory evacuation) and possibly our home in Three Rivers (voluntary evacuation).

How is a Central California artist to cope?

By painting her favorite type of scenery.*

This was how it looked when I last showed you.

See how the colors look now? This is before I began painting, and it has a funny tint due to the smoky orange light outside.

To help me focus, I flipped it upside down, flipped the photo upside down on the laptop screen, enlarged it tremendously, and proceeded to draw with my paintbrush. The goal was to be as accurate as possible, working back to front in the scenery, and matching the mountains to the best of my ability while squishing the scene onto a canvas of different proportions than the photos. (Trickinology, remember?)

When this is dry, I will add the windmachines, oranges, signature, and edges.

Then maybe I’ll go househunting in Lemon Cove where they don’t have wildfires.

Nope. I am NEVER moving again.

Yeah, I know, “never say never”. Been here almost 23 years and I truly do not want to lose this place or to move.

*along with answering texts, phone calls, and emails from many concerned friends, listening to Mike Rowe’s podcasts, continuing to pray in less than coherent phrases throughout the day, and hanging out with cats.

Large Important Commission, Chapter 9

I left the oil painting alone for a week or so, in order to gain distance and objectivity. (Yes, wonky photo, because in spite of this camera’s superiority to its predecessor, the screen is still invisible in the bright sunshine).

Then I switched the photo to black and white, in order to study the contrasts.

This session of study resulted in a list.

  1. Make the snow brighter against sky
  2. The rock shadows on hillside are too dark
  3. Close leaves next to orchards need to be lighter
  4. Tree trunks look too uniform
  5. Too much contrast on wall rocks near books
  6. Need more roses below the wall
  7. Make shadows darker on front row of orchard
  8. Make oranges on the close branches brighter and more yellow
  9. The elephant on Alta Peak and the slope to the left of the elephant need to be fuzzier

All nine items have been addressed. Can we see the difference in this black and white version?

Maybe.

Here is the new color version (also taken in such bright sun, although filtered through a layer of smoke from the fire at Lake Isabella).

Obviously, this painting is going to be a challenge to photograph well.

Just for interest’s sake, here is the sketch (the post about it is here):

It has come a long ways since the beginning, first shown in this post.

And thus we conclude the ongoing saga of The Large Important Commission Oil Painting.

Maybe, maybe not. Maybe the books need to be less jarring. On the other hand, maybe they are supposed to pop out of the painting because it is for the Tulare County Library (Woodlake branch).