Salvage Job

Remember the painting accident a few weeks ago? (Oops, on February 16) I’m trying to salvage things. Here are 3 items that I am getting as a result:

  1. I’m using the canvas frame and some canvas from Mr. Stroben to stretch a new canvas. So far it has involved carefully removing the ruined canvas, finding the piece of new canvas, ironing it flat, laying the ruined canvas on the new and cutting a pattern. Next I have to find the staple gun.
  2. A blog reader named Michelle sent me to a site that had a beautiful tote-bag made of a painting. Hmmmm, I just tossed 2 ragged and stained tote bags. Perhaps it is time to sew a new one using the semi-finished painting of my favorite bridge! I seriously dislike sewing. Knitting is an entirely different process and much more rewarding. But to sew a new tote bag would definitely would be making lemonade out of lemons.
  3. The ruination of the painting caused me to begin a new painting of the bridge. Will it be better? That’s not a question that can be answered, because the first one will never be finished.

If I knew how to draw on a blog entry, I’d make a red arrow and a circle to show you where the rip is. It is a vertical thing in the lower portion, providentially leaving the bridge itself available to be reborn as a tote bag. I asked my very gifted older sister, She-Who-Can-Sew-Anything if she had a pattern for a tote bag. Instead of jumping in with an offer to sew one for me (I am an eternal optimist!), she told me to look on the Web. Sigh.

A California Artist

Call me “Butter” – I’m on a roll! Here is more information about being a California artist. (Are you tired of this subject yet??)

Michael and I took a walk a few days ago. It was a gorgeous spring day, although it was still technically winter. Here are some photos to show you what inspires me, as an artist in California, forsooth, a California artist!! 😎

We may be the “Golden State”, but in March, California is very very green.

We have more oak trees in Three Rivers than I can seem to learn. And the Kaweah River is a continual source of inspiration.

Look! The California state flower, right in my territory, just waiting for me to capture it on film and later paint it. I AM A CALIFORNIA ARTIST!

Okay, I will try to give this a rest. Thank you for your understanding, support, and agreement. (Are you listening, Google??)

California Artist, just once more

This is Mineral King, Sequoia National Park, in the Sierra Nevada mountain range. It is in Tulare County, California. I paint this. I paint this frequently. In fact, this might be my most popular subject to paint. That makes me a California artist, right?

This is a Sequoia Gigantea, AKA redwood. They grow in Sequoia National Park. I paint these trees. Frequently. Sequoias grow exclusively in California. I paint these trees and have lived in California my entire life. That must mean I am a California artist! (Plus, I graduated from Redwood High School and our newspaper was called the Gigantea. In addition I have an art degree from College of the Sequoias!) Are we convinced yet that I am a California artist?

California Artist, continued

Just in case there might be any doubt, I thought I’d continue to prove my case that I am indeed a California artist. I am an artist, I live in California, and this is my regular subject matter:

We grow oranges in California, particularly in Tulare County. I paint oranges, oh yes!

And, I’ve been drawing oranges for years and years!

The Sierra Nevada mountain range is in California. I paint this, hence, I am a California artist. Much of it happens to be in Tulare County, and that also makes me a Tulare County artist.

See? The Sierra Nevada has been the subject matter of this California artist for years! Why did I think I could only use that title if I drew Yosemite??

The California Poppy is one of my favorite subjects – doesn’t this qualify me as a California artist? They grow in my own yard, for Pete’s sake! (Who is this Pete, anyway? Is he a Californian?)

A poppy in pencil isn’t any less a poppy, is it? It is still the California state flower, and I drew it. Therefore, I am a California artist!

Do I believe it yet? Maybe. Maybe I have to do one more entry to convince myself (and Google!)

South Fork

Maybe March is my favorite month instead of February. It is so green and the redbud are in bloom, along with lupine, poppies and a great variety of other wildflowers. Michael and I drove up South Fork Road, which follows the South Fork of the Kaweah River (hence, the name). Something that always just twists my sense of geography is the clear view of Homer’s Nose from the upper end of that road.

We stopped 4 miles from the end of the road and unloaded our bicycles. It was a long slow pull to the campground, but oh so very pretty.

There were lots of choices.

We stashed our bikes and headed toward the water.

Clough’s Cave is on the other side of the river and used to be open to the public. I had never seen it, and Michael had described its location to me at some time in the past. We followed our noses (and a trail of litter), which led to getting sort of bluffed-up and no cave. We slid back down, thought it out, and found the abandoned trail to the cave. It is slippery with oak leaves and acorns, and several places made me question the wisdom of following it to a closed-off cave. A few cave-wreckers have caused the Park to seal the cave off from the public.

If you climb some rocks and then lie on the ground, this is what is visible. If you turn around, this is what you see:

Lots of textures, snow on the peaks, the canyon winding its way upward, and even a belt of black oaks still without leaves. Tulare County is so large in acreage, so vast in its variety of terrains, with far more to explore than I have days off!

What you want to see

After I got over the thrill of drawing what was really in front of my eyes, I began to want to make better pictures. Real life is messy; artists get to clean it up. It takes practice to draw what isn’t really there, to make up a tree that you didn’t see, to show the edge of the porch that was previously hidden, to work from multiple photos taken from slightly different angles. It is almost impossible to work from photos taken at different times of day from different distances and at different angles. This often requires the skill of a mind reader, and I have learned to say no to some of these requests. But to a certain degree, I can create what we prefer was there.

When someone asks me to draw a house and provides a perfect photo, I have been known to ask why they want a drawing when the photo says it all. The answer is usually that pencil is so beautiful. This is a thrill to my little pencil-loving heart!

Here is the main photo of Farewell Gap again:

Here is a painting in which I scooted things ever so slightly to suit myself.

If you are standing on the bridge at the end of the road in Mineral King, you are probably just in awe of the view. Your brain knows there is a stream underfoot, a cabin sort of close, and Farewell Gap in the distance. Not very many people outside of careful photographers ever realize that there is no place to stand where all three line up for a complete photo! So, when I draw or paint this scene now, I make the necessary adjustments. Until this blog posting, I have never admitted such treachery and deception in recordable form!

And here it is in pencil from 2005 when I really started becoming bold about deceiving the world! (yes, I exaggerate to make a point – try not to get all worked up here!)

Three ways of interpreting

This will be a four parter, and thank you to Bill T. a workshop participant for the idea!

There are 3 ways of seeing when one is making 2 dimensional art. “Interpreting” might be a more accurate term here.

1. What we think we see – When we are children, or when we are untrained adults, we tend to put on paper what we think we see. For example, it is a table, we know it is a table, it has a rectangle and 4 sticks for legs, what is the problem?? The problem is the lack of realism, depth, perspective, proportion and believability. This isn’t a problem if you are 5 years old, but when you begin to understand more of life, it is highly discouraging to realize that your drawing isn’t as great as your Grandma thought.

2. What we really see – As we learn what is really in front of us visually, our work becomes more realistic. We can see distance, and things make sense. One of the tools for achieving this type of accuracy is the simple step of working upside down. No, I don’t mean standing on your head – this doesn’t work for plein air! Turn both your photo and your drawing upside down and the result will first be confusion. Then, your brain will shift into its right-seeing mode (right in both senses of the word), and your shapes will become proportioned correctly.

3. What we wish we could see – One day, we realize that real life isn’t all that grand to look at. Wouldn’t it all look better if we could just edit out the telephone lines, the power poles, the scruffy branches and the garbage cans? In fact, what if we could scoot that mountain over a bit (even without the faith of a mustard seed!) and perhaps reroute that stream? As our skills and confidence grow, we realize we can! “I’m fifty-one and I can do whatever I want! Besides, it’s MY picture!” This obviously has a few shortcomings – there are times when reality has to be recorded, but it is good to recognize the times that we as artists get to do our own arranging.

In conclusion to this introductory explanation, have a look at this photo of Farewell Gap. It will be the basis for illustrating the 3 ways of interpreting what we see.

More Reasons Why I Love February (But It is March)

I’ve often thought it would be good if February had 31 days and August had only 28. If I had my way, today would be February 31! (Yes, I know it says March 4 but it is March 3 when I am posting this) What’s not to love about this fabulous show in Three Rivers??

‘Sploring

Sometimes I am just amazed (there’s an overused word!) at the places there are to discover here in Three Rivers. Today Michael and I parked at the uppermost marina on Kaweah Lake (or is it Lake Kaweah?) and went walking upstream. This is an area that only recently became part of the lake, due to the raising of the dam about 4 years ago. There were profuse yellow flowers, most likely mustard.

Looking downstream toward Slick Rock.

Mustard?

The elephant was visible. This might make a nice painting.

That is some tall mustard!

Looking upstream toward Blossom Peak and Crystal Hill might also make a nice painting.

This would make a nice painting. I might use this foreground and substitute Blossom or Alta in the background.

This is cool but makes me sad. Wouldn’t it just be the worst to lose your home? All the area where we were exploring used to have homes, and they got eminent domained for the raising of the dam. Sigh.

Broken Sleeper

My sleeper is broken. In the olden days of my life, 9 hours a night was a requirement. For the last several years, I feel lucky to get 8. What does one do in the middle of the night if sleep won’t happen? I think, I pray, I plan, and sometimes I just give up. Library books, knitting, and the internet are all good quiet occupations for those wee hours. Looking at the art of those I admire is one way I try to not just veg-out, because it is a given that I will be fairly useless during the day after one of those super-early mornings. I hope that by looking at the art of the Big Boys and Girls, something helpful will get absorbed into my memory. These are the artists I am currently watching:

June Carey – I saw a piece (reproduction) by her at The Wooden Indian in Visalia and never forgot her light, the lay of the land, the subjects, the realism combined with impressionism, the brilliance of her colors. She paints orchards, vineyards, hillsides, all with purple shadows on the roads, high contrast, fuzzy edges, perfect proportions, a building or two, Italy, Sonoma (or is it Napa?) and has typos all over her incomplete web pages. Who cares when her paintings just stop me in my tracks? Maybe I should sell my car and buy one. . .

Morgan Wiestling – “First Dance” was my first vision of this man’s mind-blowing fabulousness. It was at Masters of the American West in 2008, and it almost made me flip over the handlebars because I stopped so suddenly. My hand had to mechanically reach up to close my mouth, because my jaw truly fell open in awe. I don’t know where he gets his material – maybe he hires models and stages his scenes a la Norman Rockwell. Maybe he finds old photos and recreates the scenes in color. Maybe he is just a freakin’ genius! His edges are a little blurry, the light is subtle, the colors are muted and yet everything almost looks photographic in its proportional perfection. No maybe about it – he must be a genius!

There is something both encouraging and discouraging about viewing work of this caliber. The negative side of my brain says “Give up, you Poser because you are already 51 years old and aren’t even 1/100th of the way of getting to where these folks are and besides, you quit school and didn’t even go to a real art college”. The positive side of my brain says “WOW oh WOW, I’m just sure if I keep painting the subjects I love that one day my work will grab people as this work grabs me”.

Perhaps instead of producing 100 paintings per year at a very low price, I should paint just 10 and price them at $6,000-10,000 each. What do you think??

Get real, Toots.

Doesn’t this look like something June Carey might choose to paint? maybe if it had a house or a barn. . .