I’m going quiet for a little while. Nothing to worry about, just ready for a break. I’ll be back.
No image from Simply Home today, just a few final photos of fall in Three Rivers. (Check CACHE‘s website for hours, and visit the show if you are so inclined, because the paintings ALWAYS look better in person.)
Right now I have 2 pencil commissions that both seem a bit too hard for me.
One is a collage, combining multiple photos into one cohesive piece of work. I have done this many times. BUT, these are photos that aren’t fitting together very well with lots of little fuzzy-faced people in them. A hard and fast rule is to Never Draw A Face Smaller Than An Egg. Somehow I got confused as to what this job would entail, and it is growing in difficulty. I’ve done 3 versions now, along with a sample of what the fuzzy faces are going to look like. Nope, not going to show you. Yet.
The other is a single scene, compiled from multiple unrelated photos. What makes this so challenging is figuring out what size each item needs to be in relation to the others, and where they need to be place to make the scene believable. This was so tough that I used Photoshop (the Junior version). Not going to show this either.
So, today we are going to escape into some fall photos. We had lingering heat this fall, then WHAM! It got cold and the colors got bright.
CACHE‘S hours are different each of the weekend days, Friday, Saturday, Sunday and posted on their website under the “Visit” tab—scroll to the bottom and look on the right.
Another set of days without the internet sent us on a walk in the middle of the day. When virtual life isn’t accessible, try real life.
The star of autumn in Three Rivers is the Chinese pistache tree.
Excuse me? This is indeed a peculiar sight.
The Remoria*l Building has tremendous Chinese pistache trees.
This is the largest flowering pear tree I know of. It is the first to bloom (usually mid February) and the last to turn in the fall. There are a couple of tiny hints of red near where the big cable emerges on the right.
Rumor has it that this former playground for children will become a playground for grown-ups. (You can’t see in this photo, but the sparkly thing I hung on the gate last week is still present.)
I commented to Trail Guy that the abundance of acorns is rather remarkable this year. He said, “Oh yeah? You ought to look behind our work shop!”
So, I did.
We hear them hitting the metal roof and rolling down at night.
Finally, here is the largest buckeye tree I know of. It turned bronze in late June, or maybe early July. These native trees run on a different schedule.
*Remorial is how our neighbor taught us to say “Memorial” when she was 9.
Because this post is full of complaints, I will intersperse the verbal bummerations with nice photos.
We had a week when the internet went out 2 or 3 times a day on 4 days, and one of those days it was down all day long. This meant that neither the cell phone nor the landline worked. We also had an unscheduled half day without electricity and another day without power from 9:30-6:15. All of this took place during the week when I was preparing for my demo/talk How To Draw. In addition, I had people waiting for emails, with proofs, sketches, and price quotes to approve. It was also a week that I had set aside to make multiple phone calls to a tech service in order to repair and understand my wonky website.
Without power or internet, how does one print drawing exercises? or scan things necessary for handouts? or print one’s own notes? or let inquiring customers know you are not a flaky artist? How does one repair a website that one cannot access?
One waits. One uses a yellow legal pad and a pen. One waits some more. One composes emails and puts them in a folder called “Drafts”. One keeps waiting. One works in quiet, without tunes or podcasts. And one waits some more.
When the power came on, the printer wouldn’t print anything in color until I cleaned the heads about 6 times. Then I had to replace the ink, of course. I believe that printers were designed by ink companies. The next one I get will be a laser printer. I don’t know what that actually means, but people who have these say they are very reliable and use less ink. Everything uses less ink. EVERYTHING. (Excuse me, I need to leave this blog and order some more ink while thinking about it.)
Okay, I’m back, $48.70 poorer.
Eventually, I was able to get everything printed and scanned in time for the talk. Eventually, the emails went through. Eventually, I was able to make one phone call to repair one thing on my website. I also got a bit of painting done on one disrupted day before it got too dark to see.
From this:
To this:
To this, when I finally decided it was too cold to leave the door open, but too dark with it closed.
Thus, we end today’s complaint session with a vague sense of productivity and thankfulness for autumn beauty and electricity and internet and telephones.
Walking isn’t as easy as it used to be. I walk shorter distances more slowly than I used to, wearing Crocs instead of these shoes, which I now have listed on eBay.
Until the time change, my friend and I walked in the dark. Sometimes it felt adventuresome, as if we were getting away with something. On the days when her schedule isn’t tight, we still go 4-5 miles, although that’s nothing compared to when we trained together for a 1/2-marathon. Still, we are happy that we can walk and can do so in places without traffic, traffic lights, or sidewalks.
One day recently, Trail Guy and I poked along our street where he pointed out a peculiar sight on our neighbor’s lot.
I found a small sparkly on the ground, which I ended up securing to the fence of the former day care at the Presbyterian Church.
While admiring the view from the Catholic church, I wondered what the bright red was in the distance. It most likely is a truly spectacularly bright tree. We weren’t so fortunate when we chose our own Chinese Pistache trees, nor when they created volunteers on our lot.
I’ve always admired this barn across the highway, and being November, I also admired some red trees in the distance.
Walking more slowly and going shorter distances does increase one’s awareness of the surroundings. That is a good trait for an artist to cultivate.
P.S. Yeppers, two churches in our neighborhood, neither one “ours”.
I wasn’t there, but Trail Guy brought back good photos of fall color for you. Do you have a favorite?
If plein air painting really floated my boat, I’d be there chasing down fall color. Instead, I am probably there packing up for the winter.
Next fall, perhaps. . .
Do you know “Ranger’s Roost”? It is the higher ground to the west of Timber Gap.
I didn’t go. I was at home, dealing with a situation. More on that next week. . .
Trail Guy was gobsmacked by the abundance of phlox, as evidenced by the abundance of photographs of phlox.
Timber Gap has great views, both north and south.
I love trail photos.
If you are reading this post on the day it goes live, I hope to be back in Mineral King. Probably not hiking, maybe painting, probably just reading or knitting or splitting wood. Maybe next week’s Mineral King post will have photos taken by me with my camera.
P.S. You can tell these photos are from Trail Guy’s camera because the sky has those dark spots (from something on/in the lens, not chemtrails). He doesn’t mind. I bought him a new camera, and he declined it. I kept the new camera, and it went weird, while his spotty camera just keeps soldiering onward. I bought myself another new camera, and so far, so good.
May Day! Happy May Day, which I think traditionally includes flowers. (Then why do captains of planes and ships yell “MAY DAY!” when they are about to crash?)
A few days before I left for Texas, I spent a day working in the yard. Whoooo-eeee, it was hard to leave home.
Tucker joined me in the herb garden. He likes to meet me there for coffee in the mornings.
Good thing it was almost dark when I left home because otherwise I might have been tempted to cancel the trip.
By the time you are reading this, I hope to be on a flight to Texas. The way flights get cancelled these days, who knows? I could be sitting in a airport, fuming. I hope you are not fuming; instead, I hope you enjoy these last photographs of the most beautiful month in my yard and around its edges a bit.
Man oh man, the hillside will be all brown and/or weed-eated by the time I get home, and the Lady Banks rose will be finished, and so will the lavender. . . it is SO HARD to leave home, especially in the spring. (But I haven’t ever visited my dear friend in Texas during the 30 years she has lived there; I always wait until she comes here for a reunion, so it is past time.)
Farewell, spring in Three Rivers; hello Texas!
Maybe. Maybe not. However, I am heading to Texas tomorrow*, and when I return, I think the green in Three Rivers will be finished, or close to it.
My dear friend the Texan and I planned this visit to coincide with the blooming of the Texas bluebonnets (a variety of lupine). I think someone miscalculated, but I didn’t want to bump my trip earlier because there was just too much to adjust, AND I didn’t want to miss spring in Three Rivers.
So, let’s just enjoy the last hurrah of spring in Three Rivers. I might post while in Texas; I might not. More will be revealed in the fullness of time.
I hate leaving but am so eager to see The Texan, another dear friend who is also a Texan, and yes, The Silos in Waco.
P.S. The Things I Learned post will appear on April 30. The Blog Equipment allows me to schedule posts ahead of time.
*Normally I would not post about being gone in real time on the World Wide Web, but the house won’t be empty so no squatters will take up residence while I’m away.