Squeezing in Oranges
Snowy Sequoias, finished!
I skipped showing you all the in-between steps. They were this: snow on the ground, tree details, more snow on the trees, details on the few upper branches, more detailing on the trees, sign, and then. . .
. . . I flipped it upside down! Why?
Because the bottom needed painting.
Then I moved it into the dining room to dry.
When it was dry, I carried it outside to photograph in the daylight.
Hi Tucker. Thanks for stopping by.
Wowsa. I feel mighty proud (and relieved).
Trail Guy and I spent an hour building a make-shift, patchworked, DBO box to protect it on its journey.
This is the fancy pick-em-up truck, not the Botmobile.
Today I will deliver the giant commissioned oil painting of Sequoia trees in snow, and it will feel great to hand it over.
Math Accident
I couldn’t figure out why the giant oil painting of sequoias in snow was taking so long. The answer is that I had a math accident.
The customer decided on 18×36″, and I agreed that I could finish it in the time needed, although it would be quite tight.
I painted and painted, each morning before heading to work on the mural in the afternoon, some mornings before teaching drawing lessons in Exeter, mornings before my business referral group Zoom meeting. It seemed that I wasn’t making much progress in each session. Although I got areas finished, they were a smaller percentage of the entire painting than I expected to cover.
One day, I was looking over my inventory list, adding and numbering new jobs (have I mentioned how much work I have?) and I noticed that the canvas of sunny sequoias, which I converted to the snowy sequoia painting, was listed as being 24×48″.
I got the tape measure out, and sure enough, instead of painting 18×36″, I am painting 24×48″.
24×48″?
Yeppers.
Ridiculous math accident.
And that is why I have to stand on a ladder to paint the top edge.
My customer was extraordinarily gracious and understanding. We spent a fair amount of time laughing together on the phone about the situation, and then he told me to adjust my price to reflect the true value of the painting!
His company has plans to reproduce it in several formats, and it will still work because the proportions are the same as 18×36. Because it is larger, I am able to achieve tighter and better detail. So, it is all turning out better than planned or imagined.
More Snowy Sequoias
November is the busiest month in my business. This year is busier than ever, and there aren’t even any boutiques or festivals. It is so fun to have more projects than I can even show you. Here is the progress on the snowy sequoia oil painting commission. It is several days worth of painting.
The background will only need one more pass of detailing. There is still quite a bit of work left, which was puzzling to me. Why is this painting taking me so long? It feels as if I should be covering more territory in each painting session, but instead, I am inching along.
I’ll tell you why this is on Friday after a bit more time to process the ridiculousness of this situation.
Snowy Sequoias, continued
At the beginning of the painting session, it felt daunting. When this happens, I think about the basics. Start in the background. Since the white paint was still quite wet, this was good advice to myself.
When it was time to move to the mural project, I didn’t want to stop oil painting. It is hard to shift gears. At least the subject matter of the mural is the same, with the added bonus of the light coming at the trees from the same direction.
House on Canvas
The house painting looked like this at the beginning of this painting session.
This amount of specific detail without a lot of choices in reference photos requires that I resort to the dreaded “drawing with my paintbrush”. Why this is so despised in the Art World remains a mystery to me. In my little world, I want to provide what the customer wants, and if it requires drawing with my paintbrush, then so be it.
It’s getting there! I’ve got to figure out the details on the porch, do something with the landscaping, and then talk to my customer. She has some old home movies that she is converting to video, and then I will look through them to see if I can get to a better understanding of what she remembers.
Custom Oil Painting, continued
First, the sky, then the roof, and next, the details that I can see.
Greenery helps. 
I’ll keep working at the details that I can see, then move to the parts that I have to make up, and finally, I’ll ask my Customer/Friend to help me understand the parts that she remembers.
Then, I’ll tighten up the details and correct the color and who knows? Whatever it takes to make it look the best I can make it. I can do this! (Like the Little Engine That Could – “I think I can, I think I can. . .”)
Ran out of daylight to paint during the last session. Hence, the darker photo.
Conversion to Winter
A friend from down south (that means Southern California or “Socal”) called to see if I could paint sequoias in snow for his company to use for their holiday card this year. (Companies aren’t allowed to send Christmas cards anymore.) We discussed sizes, timelines, and designs. After those preliminary decisions were made, I sent this sketch for approval.
The sketch vanished into the atmosphere, and another sketch of different proportions was requested. I sent this, but knew it wasn’t as good as the 18×36″ proportioned one, so I sent the first one again. (Did it vanish because I had the audacity to write the words “Merry Christmas”? Don’t be a conspiracist!!)
Then the requested time frame to receive the finished painting shrunk. People who don’t paint don’t know how long it takes for oil to dry; people who do paint don’t really know either but realize it isn’t an overnight situation. People who live in cities don’t know how long it takes for giant blank canvases to get shipped; people who don’t live in cities don’t really know either, but understand that time must be built in for snafus.
So, I looked at the 18×36″ painting of sequoias on the easel that was set aside because I have commissions, which always take precedence over the paintings I do to build up my inventory.
Necessity is the mother of invention and being innovative is part of living rurally. I decided that this unfinished summer scene could be converted to winter, because there isn’t enough time to wait for a new canvas to arrive.
White is the slowest drying oil paint color, so this will need a few days before the detail begins.
Yippee skippee, I can do this!! (Why didn’t I think to add on a rush charge? Does anyone out there want to be my business manager? secretary? coach?)
New Custom Oil Painting
Because I can’t start painting on the mural until afternoon, I can work on a new custom oil painting in the morning.
This is for a friend of mine. This house belonged to her grandparents, and she doesn’t have many photos other than the ones taken after the house changed owners. So, I am working from mediocre photos and verbal instructions from my friend/customer. Tain’t easy, but we can do this.
Unsettled
The way I decide whether to paint or to draw is: (1) Is someone waiting for this? (2) Is there enough light to paint? (3) Is it too hot or too cold in the painting studio?
Someone has commissioned me to draw 5 different cabins belonging to 5 different friends, all of whom lost their places to the wildfires all over the Central California mountains. This is an uncommonly generous man, and each one of these drawings will be a surprise, so I am not going to show you any of them. It is a little tricky for him to get photos from these friends and then to get answers to questions about the photos without giving away his surprise.
While I waited for the next batch of helpful answers and maybe some better photos, I returned to the easels. The smoke was abating some, and the weird dark orange-ish light was changing to a bit more normal color so I could paint (to the unsettling sound of helicopters overhead.)
Where to begin?
This one? (The greenery is lemon geranium, supposed to help keep the mosquitoes from chewing me to pieces while I paint.)
No, I need green. (The orange on the table got a green streak on it, so I touched it up first.)
This bouncing and detailing too soon approach is not the usual artistic method – it is just the way I cope with indecision at the easel. The helicopters and continuing fire were unsettling, it was getting too hot to paint, and I lost focus.
There is no rush on any of these paintings, but I have 4 large ones in progress and a fifth one in mind. I figured that any progress was better than just quitting.
Will it ever rain again? No fires? No smoke? No helicopters? Will we see some green?
See? Unsettled. I shut myself in the studio with the roar of the A/C to drown out the helicopters, write this blog post, and maybe just hold my pencils for awhile.
P.S. Still not finished.