Determined, Persistent, Responsible

“Determination gives you the resolve to keep going, in spite of the roadblocks that are before you.”—Denis Waitley

“I will persist until I succeed.”—Og Mandino

“You cannot escape the responsibility of tomorrow by evading it today.”—President Abraham Lincoln

Assembly line of Honeymoon Cabin paintings.

Listening to podcasts pulls me through painting days that feel as if I will NEVER finish ANYTHING. (This feeling may simply be a result of starting 32 paintings at the same time.)

Baby steps, back to front, the usual process.

As I worked on these paintings, I was entertained by the slightly raunchy podcast “By The Book”, where 2 women read self-help books and then live by them. I got tired of their cussing, so I switched to the fabulous motivational speaker Brian Buffini, where I heard the quotes above.

The photos have simply become guides for me as I revisit familiar subjects. This does make the process of painting easier.

In spite of not finishing any paintings, it was a productive day. I WILL get to the fun parts of drawing with my paintbrush, putting in the details that make me like to paint, and then signing the paintings. Why? Because I am determined, persistent, and responsible and because I have podcasts to listen to while I push ahead.

These are not finished, but finishing them will be the fun part.

Thanks, Brian Buffini.

A Metaphor Free Post

Today will be less metaphorical than yesterday’s post. It was a cold and dark day when I painted this, so the photos of paintings aren’t as thorough.

The day began with a touch of sun on my pot of irises.
Storm coming – very dramatic light on the front yard. And that is mowed weeds; we had to abandon the lawn, so it is simply a springtime luxury to pretend we have one.

Get to work, Central California artist who is distracted by the beauty of her favorite month. Today’s painting subject is the Honeymoon Cabin in Mineral King, the only cabin left from Disney’s era.

This is another Squish-the-Subject-While-Making-It-Believable painting. This one is 8×8″.
I kept it loose because it got too dark to see well. Just got those shapes in place with the general colors.
This one is 6×6″. It was sort of too dark to see, so I quit for the day.

More on Juniper Paintings

Yesterday we looked at several juniper paintings. I like to paint this subject, because it is fairly forgiving. Who is going to say with confident knowledge, “Hey, you added a branch!”? No one, I hope. It is the overall shape of the tree that people remember, unless they were actually climbing the tree, but most people who climb the trail to White Chief need all their lung power simply for the elevation gain.

The sky looked pretty decent on the first pass; when I started the second layer of blue, it became apparent that the first blue wasn’t adequate.

Much better! And you will like it more when it is completely dry, because then I can scan it, which is a superior way to record a painting.
This juniper is along the Franklin-Farewell Trail, at the Clough cut-off. I tried this scene on my studio door and lost interest. Still, I think it is a lovely picture. It just didn’t float my boat for the studio door mural.
The unfinished studio door mural before I covered it with Sawtooth and wildflowers.
Background first. Do you get tired of hearing me say that?
One more layer of tighter details ought to do it for this painting.
Three in progress on the table in the juniper section. The fourth is hanging on the wall and also only wants one more layer of tighter detail. They all need signatures too.

I like painting junipers.

Painting Junipers

There is a juniper tree on the trail to White Chief (Mineral King, of course) that is striking and memorable. Several people have called it their favorite tree, among them Trail Guy.

I painted it twice last summer.

Juniper I
Juniper II

Now I am painting it two more times.

First the sky, then the background, and next the tree. So rough the first couple of times over the canvas. This is 8×10″.
Better, but not finished yet.
A smaller version, 6×6″.
More work to be done here too.
This juniper tree is along the same trail and memorable in a different way. It might be other people’s favorite tree, but they are probably just trudging along, gasping for breath, wondering who built such a steep trail and if it will ever end. This painting is also 6×6″.

32 At Once

The beginning stages of 32 paintings at the same time is a rather lengthy undertaking. Why would anyone begin 32 paintings at the same time?? This Central California artist chooses to do it this way for multiple reasons, none of which are very interesting. It is more fun to see the process than to read about the reasons behind it. (This is a high-falutin’ way of saying, “I don’t know why and don’t want to figure it out right now”.)

The Oak Grove Bridge in a new size and shape from a more distant viewpoint than my usual paintings of this, my favorite subject to draw and paint.
The view from my living room, titled “Alpenglow on Alta”. Clever, eh? I left out the telephone lines that cross the scene in real life. That was wise, don’t you think?
Look at all these loosey-goosey scribbled first-pass paintings.

But wait! There’s more.

The rooster comes in 2 poses, and here is a little painting of The Lake, as we refer to Lake Kaweah around here (or is it Kaweah Lake? No one really knows.)
This is Trail Guy’s favorite tree. It is a juniper on the trail to White Chief. I wonder how deep the snow is on it right now.

That is not all 32 paintings. They are spread out all over the painting workshop, so I am only showing you the latest ones in each post. I don’t work on all 32 every day.

Now I know the likely reason for 32 at once. When I was a kid, my mom read Cheaper by the Dozen to us, and the idea of being the most efficient possible really captured my imagination. So, an assembly line approach appeals to me for 32 paintings.

Painting Poultry

Let’s look at the steps involved in painting a rooster. This is a little 4×6″ canvas, sized and priced for quick sale. This is an art business, so these things must be considered. I hope it doesn’t cause offense to folks who think artists just get inspired, create something, and voila! the money follows. (don’t we all wish?)

First, the general size and shape. I begin all pencil drawings the same way too – size and location is the first decision.
Next step: tighten up the shape.
Start filling in the shapes within the main shape (had to draw the dog before I drew the fleas). The colors aren’t really important in this step but the values are. I’m not talented enough to get this stage exactly right on the first pass so I require another layer to be accurate on shapes, values, colors and textures.
This is a continuation of the previous step, but this time I am right side up to see if I am actually painting a rooster or a freak of nature.
The rooster needs a hen. She is 6×6″ because that shape best fits her shape.
Tucker isn’t very interested in this topic of poultry.

Painting in the Dark

Painting in the relative darkness of an overcast and rainy day limits my ability to mix colors well or see detail. This is fine when I am a cog in the gears of my painting factory. Figuratively speaking, not literally speaking, and not speaking, but writing.

Never mind.

Welcome, new subscribers who read Friday’s post and joined up!

Oops. I wasn’t paying attention to where the hanging hardware was on that one canvas. The redwood paintings are in the painting workshop because I keep thinking there must be a way to make them better. I haven’t figured out that way yet, and don’t want to mess them up while painting in relative darkness.

Two palettes at once, but primarily mixing and painting skies on canvases, and then laying them back on the table to dry because the peg board was full.

Shove over, redwoods, because the skies need your places.
I wonder what these will look like when the sun comes out. Probably will have poor coverage and need recoating.

Time to move on. All the skies I can cover for the day are covered. This citrus painting has been collecting dust and nagging me for 2 months, and it is time to address it.

Hello, Mr. Incomplete Citrus Painting (How is that for addressing a painting?)
The sizes and placements weren’t right. They still might not be the best. The detail will have to wait until I have this settled. That will require a sunlit day.

Boring Beginnings

The beginning of painting a new series is a very boring factory-type assembly line of assigning inventory numbers, choosing titles, and attaching hanging hardware. Then all the canvases have to be primed, or “toned” in Art Speak. I just use whatever blend of colors I find in the bottom of my turpentine jar for this task.

Actually, before I begin the boring part, there is a brain-stretching exercise. It involves looking through previous years’ sales, seeing which subjects and sizes have been the most popular, looking through my existing inventory, and then making educated guesses about subjects, sizes, and quantities of each. Then I review my extensive photo files and make more guesses about what to paint.

These on the floor have already been primed from a previous ambitious painting session.
It was too loud in the workshop for Tucker. He’s kind of sensitive.

At least Scout and Trail Guy were in the workshop with me. Trail Guy was working on a project, talking to himself and to the radio and sometimes to me. Scout was napping in the sunshine in the window.

I ran out of hardware and out of room, so I walked home.

Painting a Poinsettia

After showing you the poinsettia painting, I discovered the photos of it in progress on my camera. (Camera?? Yep. Not a phone.)

Not sure why I had these available because I mostly ignored them.

2 photos, looking at them a little, but it doesn’t matter if I don’t get it right.

Painting back to front, making things up, check with the real plant to see if it passes.

Almost finished.

It took about a week to dry before I could incorporate it into my fakey Instagram life photo.

This is my best attempt at having an Instagram type of life. Too bad about that bead thing hanging in front of the photo in back.

This is what my real life looks like.

Scout and Tucker are not invited into the house.

These guys are not invited into the house either.

This dude is really bright.

But what’s up with the neckties?

Finished

A little unfinished business here on The Blog: finished pieces you haven’t yet seen in their official photographic documented form.

This little 8×8″ oil painting is titled “My Geraniums”, because it is my geraniums, although they are actually pelargoniums, (but I’m guessing no one cares). Anyway, this is hanging in my kitchen. Ever listen to Bruce Williams on the radio? He used to say, “Everything is for sale if the price is right”, and I guess if you really really like this, you may offer a high price which I may consider. Otherwise, it remains mine.

This is a commissioned pencil drawing of a Silver City cabin, a Christmas surprise which I could only tell you about but not show you. Christmas 2018 is now history, and this drawing was given and received. Hence, you get to see it now. (“Hence”? Who uses that word? The Central California blogging artist, that’s who, but only while blogging.)

Sometimes I draw simply because I can, want to, and love to draw. Besides, it is always good to keep up the practice and to keep up my inventory. This is 9×12″, unframed. It could be for sale. . . And yes, it is the Honeymoon Cabin, a little one room museum in Mineral King.

Normally it takes about 10 minutes for me to decorate for Christmas. This year it took several days, because oil paint dries very slowly. This little 8×8″painting was begun to demonstrate some techniques for the secret oil painting workshop; I brought it home and finished it because I realized my decorating efforts could use a boost. I could have photographed it in the entryway of my house, but that feels like a fakey Instagram sort of thing to do. Fakey isn’t my style, as you may have discerned (although occasionally my vocabulary gets a little stuffy).

This finally feels finished. It was dry enough to photograph on a sunny day. Still mulling over a good title – Citrus Queue, perhaps? It is 18×6″, $175.