Category: Sources of inspiration

A Walk of Beauty

Yesterday my husband had a birthday. I remember thinking how stodgy and middle-aged my parents were when my Dad turned 50, and now I am married to a 58-year-old man! We had to stick around the house waiting for a plumber (the more stuff you own, the more stuff breaks). After getting that situation situated, we went up to the BLM land for a little walk. (All walks are little compared to last year’s training for the 21-miler.) I share these images with you because it gives you a glimpse into the life and through the eyes of a foothills artist in residence.

This is a face screaming “OOO NOOO, not 58!”

Three Rivers

The Canoe and The Elephant

This is our view when transporting the canoe. Can you see the elephant in the distance?

We put in at Slick Rock and paddled upstream awhile for a better view of the elephant.

Ever wonder what Slick Rock looks like up close? (Sorry, no elephant in it)

The reason we were able to put in at Slick Rock is because the recent storms raised the level of Lake Kaweah significantly. (The elephant is behind us now.)

That is the Horse Creek Bridge in the background. We’ve never paddled up Horse Creek before, because normally we only have the opportunity to canoe when the water level is too low for that area.

Michael spotted this Belted Kingfisher; I’m thinking it should be called Whiplashed Kingfisher.

Almost back to the car. See the elephant? For a few days there was so much snow that it was hard to see him? (Mickey, is it a boy or girl elephant?)

We found an easier way to load the canoe at the end of our excursion. Good thing, because my arms felt like limp spaghetti.

Lake Kaweah Three Rivers

Last Blast of Autumn

December is winter in our minds, but the reality in Three Rivers is that most of the month is still autumn. Have a look at my studio and workshop with the flowering pear tree! When my friend Stacy sold it to me almost 10 years ago, I told her I needed the largest one she could get because I didn’t have time to wait for it to look good. It still looks like a skinny pencil tree to me – no fault of Stacy’s, just my crummy soil and inconsistent watering.

Green apple

At the show over the weekend, a nice lady (with impeccable taste, of course) asked me to paint a little green apple to accompany her pomegranate and orange paintings. (I mean the painting is little – not to be confused with the Roger Miller song!) I was eager to begin, so I went to the local market and bought a Granny Smith. That was the only variety, which eliminated an unnecessary decision. Morning light is better for still life photography at my house, so this a.m. I took the apple outside. As I hunkered down with my camera on the very cold porch, Perkins wanted to know what I was doing.

commission oil painting

A One Week Difference

Last week in Mineral King there was only a hint of fall color. Look what happened in one week’s time!

Mineral King

Labor Day Weekend

Turns out the Park Service granted permission for the show, but didn’t convey the message until I was already off in the Land of No Electricity for the weekend. Hmmm, good or bad? A little of both, but a great weekend was had by all (even those of us who made no $$) Michael and I hiked to the Empire Mine area to return something that was borrowed. We were just finished with the very steep first 1/4 mile of the trail when I heard an exclamation of dismay from my hubby. I knew instantly that he had forgotten something, so I simply responded, “That’s okay, I’ll just wait for you here.” You may recall that with me, waiting is rarely a problem.

Notice how nicely the colors blend with the sky and the green of the landscape.

When Michael came back with the borrowed object, we proceeded onward and upward. We followed the cable and stanchions of the tram line that carried ore buckets during the mining days in Mineral King.

The borrowed object was returned, but this time wasn’t placed in full view as it had been originally found.

We visited the bull wheel at the upper end of the tramline.

Michael explained how it worked – I understood most of it, and appreciated the history lesson.

Would you believe there was a road up there?? I wouldn’t either, if I hadn’t seen and photographed it myself!

This is the remains of the tram tender’s cabin, fully visible from the trail as one heads down (if the light is right and the hiker is paying attention)

A Quest

My maternal grandmother, AKA Grandma, was one of 12 children born to Martha Bob and Edward Elisha in the hills of North Carolina. Of the 7 girls, she was the only one to attend and graduate from high school, leave North Carolina, and eventually get her driver’s license! (Such a maverick, that G’ma of mine!) Last week I had the privilege and joy of spending time in the town of Blowing Rock, North Carolina, where she went to high school. The natives call them mountains because it is high and cool for NC, but as a Californian who spends much time in Mineral King, I think of them as beautiful green hills covered in deciduous trees. The town was just wonderful – a Carmel/Mendocino type place whose population swells from 1500 to 20,000 in the summer. Every yard has flowers, every porch has chairs (usually rockers), and every person is as nice as can be. I loved the architecture, the lakes, the trails, the history, the learning of where G’ma grew up, and meeting my Mom’s first cousins.

The school that G’ma attended was only there from 1918 – 1927, so I had to be content with photos o the present structure.

The rock gymnasium was built by the Civilian Conservation Corps in the 1930s.

Have I mentioned that I love old buildings? 😎

Blowing Rock North Carolina

Life at the Painting Factory

Didn’t want you all to think all I do is stand before an easel – I DO have a life. Sort of. Okay, maybe it is more of a Cat Disorder, but it is MY Cat Disorder and I am quite content with this state (even though I know I can’t just quit anytime I want.)

Kaweah Kitty hates it when I take a break and is always on hand to help me find my way back to the painting workshop. (try to be polite about her tail – she can’t help it)

She has a tendency to lie underfoot – obviously she feels quite safe despite the fact that I might accidentally squash her when I step back to view the easel contents.

Butch just hunkers down in the RV garage and yells when I walk past. Poor little guy is an orphan and we don’t know what happened to Cashmere and O’Reilly.

Sometimes he comes outside, but he is skittish in the extreme. We can pet him now, but only on his terms. It took from November until May – that is a record! (not a good one – no idea how we will get him “fixed”)

Check out that non-tail. It’s why we call him Butch. Looks like a Manx, talks like a Siamese, acts like a psycho.

Time in Mineral King (instead of just painting it)

A picture is worth a thousand words – here are 11,000 words for you to enjoy. Click on them to see them larger.

Entering White Chief bowl

This is as far as we went; still much snow remains

Lots of Blue Lips out!

The next day we went to Empire. This is an old road built by the miners and it is a great relief to find it after scrambling up a long steep slope.

Went high enough to see down into White Chief.

My goal was this nubbin at 10,500′. Michael went 200 feet higher, but my good sense (and lack of depth perception) caused me to wait. Waiting is seldom a problem for me.

We love this section of trail leading to Timber Gap (which you can see still has patches of snow). The phlox and blue lips were outstanding!

Because it was the Fourth of July, I looked until I found a patch of red, white and blue!

Mineral King marmot

Long Walk, finale!

This marker let us know we had 1 mile to go (mile 20 for us 21-milers). Our feet were ready to stop walking in spite of all the fun.

2/10ths of a mile remaining as we crossed the Carmel Creek Bridge! We were really pouring it on in terms of speed, knowing we were going to reach our goal of 5-1/2 hours for the 21 miles!

This was our first view of the finish line.

The only time I ran (besides passing folks) was when I saw Michael on the sidelines! Nancy and I finished in 5 hours, 34 minutes, which translated to a 15.5 minute mile. This was our best time in any of our training walks together! It is quite amazing what momentum and adrenaline (plus training at a higher elevation) can do for one’s time!

After the walk, Michael and I retired to the beach at Asilomar. The sand and the cold water were exactly what my feet required. That’s my medal on my shoulder. (Yes, of course I knit at the beach! Doesn’t everyone??)

Poor Michael – the walk really wore him out!

Big sur international marathon First Saturday three Rivers