Did you think I had forgotten my promise to show you recently finished oil paintings?
Nope.
First, the commissioned piece. It isn’t totally finished, but I never show you the sides of the canvas anyway.
It is Oak Grove Bridge XX, which means #20, but is probably the 25th time I’ve painted it because sometimes my record keeping is not so good.
Now, the P Fruits:
And a Sequoia Gigantea, with the same information as above, except it is a Giant Sequoia tree.
The big Mineral King mural in Exeter has faded.
Yellow fades the quickest, so gray becomes purple, tan becomes gray which then fades to lavender, and green becomes blue.
The mural colors were like this when I finished it after 52 days of painting in 2009.
Now the colors look this way:
It is time to refresh the greens and grays, and when it stops raining, I will do that. The sky and the insets are fine, as are the farthest snow-covered peaks. (Maybe – ever heard of “purple mountain majesty”?)
Meanwhile, I am preparing to repaint Mineral King by painting Mineral King in oil. Painting a mural is very attention-getting, and the process will bring attention to Mineral King. It is prudent to have paintings ready for eager customers; if I had been born in the 1600s, perhaps my name would have been Prudence.
It was prudence that caused me to photograph these through the window rather than going into the painting workshop, which doubles as the Bengal-beast’s safe place. I didn’t want to awaken the sleeping Samson by going into his territory.
Whole lotta bridges going on around here. All the Oak Grove Bridge, of course. 2 paintings, a calendar, 2 photos.
Samson was busy with other things (thank you, GE for babysitting) so I tackled the bridge again. This time I started over, working from back to front and top to bottom. This layering and layering and layering is called “glazing” in Artspeak.
The lower right corner is a mess. Real life is very messy. Most scenery is messed up with sticks, dried stuff, dead branches. . . and we don’t notice because we look past it to the good parts.
You can see the lower right edge of the photo is a mess, a tangled mess.
It isn’t finished here because I just flat don’t know what to do.
So, for now I’ll stop and just think about all the versions and how I’ve handled this corner in previous renditions.
Because I’m feeling more confident about the 11×14 commissioned oil painting of the Oak Grove Bridge, I decided to pull out the 24×30″ version from last year. I tackled it the same way – starting over in the farthest places, working forward.
Just like with murals, the larger, the easier.
Weird.
Oil painting is a real challenge at times. Getting the colors right in addition to the darks, lights, textures, shapes and proportions, along with seeing what is really there instead of what I think might be there plus adding and subtracting whatever is necessary to enhance the scene . . . it is just hard.
Then along comes a new challenge. This oil painting commission of the Oak Grove Bridge may take longer than any other previous oil painting. Let the photos suffice, although none were taken while claws and teeth were attached to my painting (or photographing) hand. In all the wrestling, a button got pushed on the camera that made the colors more vivid than normal. I’m surprised nothing got broken or accidentally painted or dropped.
While this Bengal bitey-boy-beast, AKA Samson, took a rest, I was able to work on the rocks beneath the bridge a bit, and also located the posts on the bridge itself. The customers didn’t give me a deadline, and they say, “No hurry” each time I see them.
Good thing.
Happy Birthday, Robin!
Today’s post is an update to several paintings in progress.
I carried this one outside to the sidewalk to photograph for you. That’s what the weird gray texture around the sides is. The leaves on one of the pomegranates need another layer, because they were an afterthought. And, when it is dry, it will photograph with more accurate colors. Still have to sign it.
What shall I title this oil painting?
This one is called “Sequoia Gigantea”. That was the name of the newspaper at Redwood High School, and I have never forgotten that it is the real name of what we euphemistically call “The Big Trees” around here. This is to keep them from being confused with the other Big Trees, the other redwoods, the Sequoia Sempervirens, AKA “coastal redwoods.
And the Oak Grove Bridge painting goes on and on and on. . . this time when I saw that the arch still wasn’t right, I adjusted the left side. Why is this so hard for me to paint?? With all the practice I’ve had, you’d think I could paint it with my eyes closed.
Wait. That wouldn’t work.
Paint it with one arm tied behind my back?
Never mind. It is hard, but I love the scene in reality, on paper and on the easel.
This post is brought to you courtesy of the Department of Redundancy Dept. because I keep painting the same scenes and subjects over and over and over and. . .
The Commissioner and Mrs. Commissioner were very happy with their commissioned oil painting of the Kaweah Blacksmith Shop.
This little building used to be up the North Fork of the Kaweah where the Kaweah Colony was. The flood of 1997 took it away, and in recent years, The Commissioner and his wife bought the property and began learning about it.
He liked this one too. This pencil and colored pencil drawing has a story to it, several stories, really.
I drew this from some photos taken at a friend’s farm yard north of Sacramento. The tires were taller than I am, and my friend said it is quite A Thing when one needs to be changed.
The piece in the Madera Ag Art Show got 1st place in Equipment and Machinery, but it didn’t sell. I showed it around for awhile and finally just put it in my studio. Classic example of what I like not resonating with the general public. . . sigh.
When I was scrolling through old emails looking for Mrs. Commissioner’s name because I forgot it (rude), I found an email from 2007 mentioning the fact that The Commissioner might be interested in this piece. There was no way I was going to call a stranger to ask if he wanted to buy a drawing, even a 1st place one. Not happening!
He is no longer a stranger, he remembered the woman who suggested that I show this to him (she died in a skydiving accident, so you can see what a memorable person she was), and he has very good reason to want this drawing.
That reason will remain a secret, because I am not in the habit of revealing personal information about my customers. I may be rude enough to forget important people’s names, but I have my limits on rudeness.
Natalie, please tell “Jee-um” Happy Birthday from me today – thank you!
This rain is wonderful. I went driving around, not just for the sake of burning fuel, but to see some stuff. Artists have to see stuff.
What’s my job description? I see stuff and then decide if it is worth showing to other people.
I saw lots and lots of water, here in January in Tulare County. This is the St. John’s River. I crossed it several times, and also crossed the Kaweah, drove along several irrigation ditches, and crossed the Friant-Kern canal several times.
If the bridge above looks familiar, it is because you may have seen it on the 2017 calendar. This also gives you a chance to admire my ability to clean up real life, which tends to be messy and cluttered.
What’s my job description? I fix visual messes.
That was “This“.
Now for “That“.
That oil painting of the P fruits is coming along. If you are wondering, the dimensions are 6×18″.
The Other Thing is how beautiful it is in Three Rivers this time of year, especially when it is a wet season. Please excuse the lines across the photo. They are actually what enable me to post on this blog, but unfortunately they connect me to Huge & Rude. (the phone co.)
Can you see the elephant on Alta Peak? Here is a little visual aid as to how it is posed:
The trunk on my elephant is going the wrong direction and his head is bit outsized; you’ll have to use your imagination a bit.
What’s my job description? I help people understand what they are seeing.
Thus we conclude the post “This, That and The Other Thing”. Thanks for stopping by.
Did you think I’ve spent the last weeks just driving and walking around, marveling at the river, snow, rain, and Samson in the water?
Nope. I’ve been oil painting every workday. See?
The 2 oil paintings of Sequoia trees are drying, along with the blacksmith shop. (The Commissioner likes it!!)
And, what is this? Sometimes when a painting doesn’t sell, I turn it into something else. This used to be a field of red tulips. No one cared except me.
Hi Samson. Stay out of my palette.
People in my life care more about Sequoia trees than tulips.
Whoa. What is this? It used to be a field of red and yellow tulips. I hope people in my life care more about pomegranates than tulips. I thought briefly about painting all the fruits that begin with “P” – poms, pears, peaches, plums, persimmons and maybe even a pumpkin. A pumpkin would be large and weird with those others. And what would I name it? “Ps”? I could throw in a quince and call it “Ps & Q”. . . never mind.
Hi Samson. Like your new perch? Stay out of my palette. That concrete block is holding down a box over the phone because you have knocked it off the hook too many times.
Part of the business of art is being honest with myself. I have to ask hard questions and face the answers. Why doesn’t a particular painting sell? Maybe it isn’t good enough, or maybe no one cares. I have to face facts and paint things that sell. Otherwise, I might need to get a job.
Sell, Sequoia Tree, Sell. I really don’t want to paint this one out. Paint it over? Paint over it? And don’t worry, this isn’t finished.
Never mind. Back to the easels. . .
My favorite bridge is the Oak Grove Bridge on the Mineral King Road. I’d link you to previous posts about it, but things aren’t working very well on my website right now. Besides, I already talk too much and take up too much of your time. Current “wisdom” on blogging is to only post once a week. My head would blow up if I did that.
Here is the gradual, incremental, snail-paced evolution of a messy canvas into a commissioned oil painting.
Thanks for stopping by and listening and looking.
BUT WAIT! THERE’S MORE!
Samson wanted to help.
I wonder if he got any white paint on the tree?
The old Kaweah Colony blacksmith shop went away in a flood in 1997. I remember that flood because we were house hunting in Three Rivers during that time. It was interesting to drive around and see washouts and high water marks, but I wasn’t aware of the Kaweah Colony blacksmith shop.
I’ve been painting from this old photo.
The background is invisible in the photo, but that’s no excuse for leaving part of a painting blank. This necessitated a field trip.
These photos look like a mess but show me how to fill in the missing parts. Sort of. Real life is so messy. Scenery often involves tangled gray, green and brown matter.
These photos weren’t enough. For one thing, I was in the wrong location. When I went back to the right place, my camera battery was dead, so I did a sketch. It wasn’t complete enough, because the tree to the right of the building remained a mystery. I can see the trunk and main branches, but what are the leaves doing??
It was raining the afternoon I needed to know. I went anyway. This time I took 2 cameras and an extra battery and a parka.
Here is the tree, missing a few branches. Can’t see the leaves because there aren’t any, but I can tell it is an oak, and I get an idea of the tangled gray, green and brown shapes behind it.
These are the 2 sycamores to the left of the shop. These photos helped immensely with detail. All the photos taken in the rain helped.
Finally, I think I may be finished with this commissioned oil painting. I sent this photo to the commissioner (doesn’t that sound official? The man actually owns a tire shop or 2. . . I wonder if he’d like being referred to as “Commissioner”.)
I hope The Commissioner thinks I am finished. If not, I’ll make the adjustments that he requests. That’s how commissioned oil painting works. But, maybe he’s gotta see it in person too. (I KNOW “gotta” isn’t a word, just like “prolly” isn’t, but sometimes a writer’s gotta say what she’s gotta say.)