Painting in the Summer Heat

Last year when sales were almost non-existent, I forgot what it is like to arrange a painting schedule around the heat and the limitations of a swamp cooler. Now I remember. Everything has a downside and an upside. Last year up—no painting in the heat. This year up—good sales.

All set up, ready to begin, early in the morning.

I finished the 6×18 bridge and took it out to the woodpile for drying.

Then I got sidetracked polishing the door handle. Good thing I’m not on anyone’s time clock.

Next: Franklin Falls. This is 2 miles up the left/east side of the Mineral King valley, a pleasant walk with only a little bit of uphill, followed by a cold wade across the creek, unless you are inclined to rock hop, which I am not. I have 2 photos, neither of which is ideal, and neither of which is square.

That’s okay. . . I know the place pretty well, and I know what people expect to see.

When something is full of fiddly detail that can’t be exactly duplicated, because of ridiculousness and cramming 2 rectangles into a square, I just find the things that matter most. The rest can be fudged.

If you’ve been to Franklin Falls, I think you’d see that this is becoming recognizable and believable.

In discussing this painting with Hiking Buddy, I told her that it is sort of colorless, all greens and browns and grays. She wisely said (reading my mind), “That’s nothing that can’t be fixed with a few wildflowers”.

Off to the woodpile for drying; the flowers will go on nicely once it is dry. Or not nicely, but if it is dry, I can wipe them off and try again.

Fast Sequoias

What does “fast sequoias” mean?

It means that my sequoia paintings sell quickly and sometimes I have to paint more speedy-quick-like-lightning, chop-chop, andalé andalé!!

It looked like this:

Skies first, then take them outside to begin drying while I go do a few chores.

I hung one on the studio door to dry, and the other one in a less photogenic location.

While the paintings were outside in the ever-increasing July temperatures, I was in the swamp-cooled workshop, mixing browns and greens.

When I had the basic shapes covered in the base redwood colors, I began detailing one at a time

It was getting too hot to keep stopping for progress photos, so here is how things wound up at the end of the painting session.

One was shipped to Texas; the other might still be available at Kaweah Arts (in the Dome in Three Rivers, river side of 198/Sierra Drive.)

A Pair of Long Hot Days, Part Three

On day two of my Mineral King oil painting biathalon, I started early, actually feeling kind of excited to try a new scene.

I was so into the details that I forgot to take very many photos of the progress.

Call me “Butter” cuz I’m on a roll!

Next?

These two would most likely be too wet to scan, so I had to photograph them more carefully. The wildflowers at Timber Gap painting will need some skewing on photoshop to straighten it out.

Feeling accomplished, and because I began so early on Day Two, I decided to see if I could get one more painting finished.

Nope, guess not. But 4-3/4 paintings in two very hot very long days was a good dent, and I got them to the store at Silver City in time for the hoped-for Independence Day rush.

A Pair of Long Hot Days, Part Two

After I carried the first painting outside, I just grabbed the next canvas in the lineup. It is an unusual view of the Honeymoon Cabin, which is a tiny museum for the Mineral King Preservation Society. It is either the 2nd or the 3rd best selling subject of Mineral King oil paintings.

I carried this one out to the woodpile, nay, wood stack because it is so very neat, and put it alongside the first painting. Two down, four to go, and only one more day to paint. What’s a Central California Artist to do?

Put the palette and brushes in the freezer, and go home for the evening, that’s what.

Both paintings were dry enough to take to Silver City 2 days after painting them.

The saga of a Mineral King oil painting biathalon will continue tomorrow.

A Pair of Long Hot Days, Part One

When paintings are selling quickly and the season is short, your Central California artist must work quickly. Therefore, on a pair of hot days, she soldiered through multiple paintings to restock the store at the Silver City Resort.

First, this piece needed the water to be repaired, the edges painted, and a signature. This one isn’t going to Silver City unless the current large attention-getter sells.

Before I faced the urgency of restocking Silver City, understanding that the season is short and that the show at CACHE will happen even if I interrupt the painting schedule for more immediate sales, I worked a bit on this 16×20″ painting titled “Keep Right”.

I was procrastinating the start of what felt like a biathalon (a two day marathon). Finally, I went to the shelves, pulled 6 small canvases of varying sizes, and then went to my piles of Mineral King photos. Each canvas got an inventory number, a title, hanging hardware, and a sky.

To start, I picked one that felt easy. It was going to be a long hot day, and I wanted to have a sense of success.

I carried it outside to the stack of firewood where the sun hits until early evening in the hopes that it would dry enough to scan before taking it up the hill. In case that didn’t happen, I took a photo. It’s blurry. I don’t know why. . . I just work here.

This was such a long work day, and I had another one coming. It makes me feel hot and tired just telling you, so I’ll continue this tomorrow.

Three Ready and Two Not Ready to Sign

I made a list of what to fix on Red Barn, Big Oak, fixed it, and decided it is good enough to sign. (There is time to change my mind and add, correct, or subtract.)

I put another layer on the bridge, which is going to be a challenge for many reasons. This is the Marble Fork Bridge, one that most people probably just zoom over and don’t notice.

After taking another series of drive-by-shots, sketching some possible corrections, and making a list of things to improve, these hills seemed ready to sign.

Glowing Homer’s Nose was fun with these colors and simple plain distant hills. It seemed ready to sign.

I added a lot of detail to the big Classic Mineral King painting, but didn’t even get to all that was on the list. It isn’t ready to sign yet.

None of the colors seem accurate, but I photographed all the paintings inside on a day when the light outside was orangey because once again, it is fire season in Three Rivers, Sequoia, and the foothills.

Really Big Oil Painting of Classic Mineral King

The day finally came to finish this painting. Well, not entirely finish, because after I photograph a painting, I usually see a long list of things to fix or change or improve. I don’t know why this becomes evident when looking on a screen; it is also true for my drawing students and other friends who paint or draw.

The tall trees were the next thing to paint, and I decided it was time to go in search of my floor easel for larger paintings. We have a lot of storage space, and it wasn’t easy to find or retrieve this thing. But, it was worth the effort—tall easel=ease of painting but ease of locating.

I cleared off the table where an easel usually sits. Whoa, I have a lot of brushes.

Then I lowered the painting so I could sit on the stool and still reach the top. I used to paint standing up. My feet used to not be numb. I’m thankful I can still paint at all.

Stop procrastinating, Central California Artist! You have a large painting to complete, so chop-chop!

First, I redid some of the background details (not so as you’d notice in these little photos, but I didn’t want you to think I was just sitting there.)

A tree grows in Mineral King/Three Rivers/on canvas.

And another tree grows.

Shrub and water time.

Now the canvas is covered. Time to let it dry.

I wondered what it looked like in real sunshine so I carried it outside for a photo. It isn’t signed and the edges aren’t painted, so it didn’t matter that the easel cast a shadow on the top.

Let’s have a little fun. . .

I think this is fun. Simple pleasures. . .

Before I put on my metaphorical critical hat, I just want to enjoy the sense of almost completion of this 18×36″ oil painting of classic Mineral King. I wonder if it will sell at Silver City, sell from my website, or hang on until the solo show in October at CACHE. . . more will be revealed in the fullness of time.

18×36″, oil on wrapped canvas, suitable for framing or ready to hang as is, Classic Mineral King, $1500

While I Was Getting Gas

At The Four-Way, right next to the Chevron station, there is a classic red barn with an enormous Valley oak tree, quercus lobata. It’s just part of the landscape, and one day while I was getting gas, I realized that this barn could just tumble, or the excess pavement near the tree could prevent it from getting the water it requires and BOOM, gone-zo. So, I took a photo to paint from, realizing there would need to be some severe editing and a liberal application of artistic license.

I started painting it one morning when I was a bit short on time but eager to get rolling. A friend stopped by to visit and kept me company while I started. I felt pretty optimistic about the painting by the end of the session.

Then I looked at this photo and realized the barn’s proportions were completely whackadoodle. So, I erased the worst parts.

Then I drew them in correctly. (How/why did I skip this step initially?? Never mind about having a friend hanging out. . . I used to be able to talk and draw.)

Back on track. . .

I realized that the orange trees needed to be different shades of green from the oak, so I mixed new greens and fixed up that grove.

Then I started working on the tree.

There was too much sky, and it needed hills and mountains.

Those clumps of leaves seemed to take forever.

It was a good day painting, and when I finished, I sat across from it with my critical hat on (metaphorically speaking because I wasn’t actually wearing a hat), I made a list of about 10 things to correct or add.

Want to see the photo that I snapped while I was getting gas?

You can see that severe editing was required to turn it back into a real countrified scene. And you can probably see about 90 things that I can do to make it be a better painting.

Ad-libbing, Guessing, Winging It

On my first day back at trying to be fully human, I resumed detailing this piece. This Mineral King painting was a big challenge on many levels, and I am now quite happy with it.

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Cabins below Timber Gap and Empire.

Feeling accomplished, I chose the next painting to work on, thinking it would be a piece of cake. This is a scene I have admired for decades and photographed it many times. It often looks great when I am driving back to Three Rivers (it doesn’t show on the way down the hill unless I do the Linda Blair head-twist, and no, I didn’t see the movie) There is no turnout, so it gets shot through the windshield. Very few of the photos are worthy, so it will require lots of ad libbing.

With a good start on my first 8×16, I started the next one, also a drive-by shot, that will also require some ad libbing.

I know that I might have more paintings of orange groves with mountains than there will be interested parties. But then again, maybe not. Guessing, speculating, and winging it are all part of the business of art. Apparently, so is ad-libbing. In ArtSpeak, it is called “artistic license”.

A Situation and a Recovery

A week ago, I had a situation to deal with: I got sick. Such a disruption. I was only able to paint a little bit before the need to lie down took over.

While reclining, I used the laptop to look carefully at the paintings finished and paintings needed for the upcoming solo show at CACHE. More paintings are needed, but feeling poorly meant that I would paint poorly.

There were other tasks to tackle, ones that didn’t require heavy concentration. One day I gathered canvases, put on the hanging wires, chose titles, assigned inventory numbers, and actually slapped on a light layer of paint. I knew it wasn’t a good day for painting when I dropped my palette. It landed upside down, of course. I headed back to the couch.

These are all 8×16″, a new size for me. 10×20″ was too big, and 6×12″ was too small. These might be just right, as Goldilocks said.
These are all 16×20″.

Another simple task for another day was to scan these two new Mineral King paintings.

Sawtooth #61, 8×8″, $145
Mineral King Valley #7, 8×8″, $145

Recovery came; it always does (except when it is time for the big dirt nap).