The Oak Grove Bridge painting number eleventy billion is in progress, in spite of all the distractions.
The painting had a few days to dry, because Trail Guy and I went on a road trip. I’ll show photos from the windshield tomorrow.
Normally when I paint, I don’t draw it out first. This time, the bridge needs to be perfect for the show at the County Building, and time is limited. So, I drew it in pencil on the canvas before beginning to paint. Oak Grove Bridge number eleventy billion, here we go.
I began the way that Laurel Daniel taught in her workshop but didn’t mix the grays very carefully. I may be a rebellious student. On the other hand, I am what Gretchen Rubin calls a “Questioner”, and if I don’t see the value in a particular activity, I don’t bother. Because this is too big to do all in one session, it seemed fine to not mix a perfect gray. But, part of the trouble was a bad brush. (I spiked it into the trash after awhile.)
I also didn’t do it from front to back. I’ve painted this bridge more than I can remember and just fell back into my familiar pattern.
It is much easier to put in all the architectural details when they are a size that can be actually seen.
Sometimes it might be nice to have a boss or maybe a crystal ball or even a mentor or a board of directors. When deciding what to paint next, there are days when I think how good it is to just do whatever I want; other times I wish someone else would tell me what to paint.
When I don’t know what to paint, I go with my first idea or first impression. All of the ideas are good, all are Mineral King, of course. The juniper tree along the White Chief trail has been calling to me in spite of having painted it twice already this spring, and OF COURSE I want to paint wildflowers. The others might be good to paint later. But, I’ll have to place yet another order with the art supply company, and Prudence tells me to wait until some paintings have sold. (Prudence often tells me wise things.)
This Mineral King painting will require lots of reference photos to remember the leafing patterns and to get the flowers to be believable. (The peak is Vandever, which is on the right side of Farewell Gap.)
“Out there” is a strange turn of phrase. Does it mean on the edge, in outer space, and weird? Or does it mean away from one’s comfort zone, out in the world? Either, but today it means having my work out in the world away from the comfort of Three Rivers, my known and beloved drawing students, and my own private studio.
I entered two pieces in “Seascapes” at the Exeter Courthouse Gallery. It is a juried show, but I have doubts that any entries will be turned away. The part that feels “out there” (vulnerable) to me is this: WILL ANYONE CARE ENOUGH TO SPEND $ ON MY WORK?? (or more accurately, $$$)
Excuse me for shouting. This sort of show makes me shudder, but at least it isn’t an auction. The shows are interesting to see, but it is nerve-wracking to interact with the public and wonder if they care or if they are just making conversation to be polite.
But wait, there’s more. I also will enter these 2 pieces in a juried show at the Tulare County Government Plaza Building. And, I’m in the process of producing a third piece to enter.
What if they aren’t accepted? What if no one wants them? What if someone does, but can’t get them for an entire year?
Stop it. Just stop it.
Okay. I’m fine now. Thank you for listening.
June 1-28, Exeter’s Courthouse Gallery, 125 South B Street, Exeter, California.
There will be 4×6″ original oil paintings at the Redbud Festival, priced for $40 each instead of $50 as a SHOW SPECIAL! Here are 2 samples of the 8 available paintings:
In spite of the common practice of completing a plein air painting alla prima I think that many of my paintings in that style definitely need touching up. It takes awhile for me to see what I can fix, and it takes wisdom to know if it would be an improvement.
Today’s post shows the before, contrasted with the “New & Improved” versions of several of my plein air attempts.
New and improved? or just new? The verdict isn’t in yet. You will be able to see these at the 45th annual Redbud Festival.
A teacher once called me a “maverick”, because I kept testing the boundaries of the assignments. Gretchen Rubin would classify me as a “Questioner”, one who wants to know why and only does things that make sense.
Last week we were admiring the view out of the living room window. While standing outside, the view is a bit different, and there isn’t enough room on that particular terrace to set up an easel. So, Trail Guy suggested I set up in the living room and paint the scene out of the window. Since it was a 95° day, that sounded like a good idea to me.
There is a scene I love, something I have wanted to paint for several years. It embodies the best of Tulare County to me – agriculture and the mountains.
I’m not sure where the best place is to set up to paint this, I don’t remember where I was, and I don’t want to go driving around. This scene will lend itself to the plein air style of painting, so why not try it?
When I finished painting, I snapped this photo and sent it to my mom, a former orange grower. She said, “Where were you?” I said, “In my painting studio, standing in front of a photograph”.
I felt like a poser or a cheater. But why? This is a legitimate way to produce paintings, just different from the layers and layers that I am used to.
Now that I look at the photo of the finished painting, I want to “fix” it, detail it, color correct, tighten up things.
HEY YOU– PUT DOWN YOUR BRUSHES AND STEP AWAY FROM THE EASEL! (or else run the risk of converting it to the style I prefer and thus defeat the purpose of learning to paint differently.)
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.
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.
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.
