Should that be “Rock Wock” or “Ralk Walk”? Isn’t English weird?








Should that be “Rock Wock” or “Ralk Walk”? Isn’t English weird?
My walking partner and I walk several roads in our neighborhood, often so early in the a.m. that we need flashlights. (We’ve learned the traffic patterns, cross the highway carefully and listen for cars–thank you for your concern.) A few years ago we began noticing heart rocks in the asphalt on one particular road. On Sunday, I took my camera and we found 10 heart rocks! Today I’ll show you five, along with a little bit of scenery (yep, trespassing again.) The rock photos were taken after the scenery ones, on the way back home when the light was better. They are all about an inch high in real life.
Tomorrow I’ll show you the rest of the heart rocks and the rest of the walk in better light.
When I show paintings in progress on my blog, they don’t cause people to comment. Comments are fun for a blogger, show that people are reading and care enough to say something, and provide a way for a bit of interaction. When I talk about places I walk or hike and show photos, the comments come in more often.
Funny how that works – it is more enjoyable for my readers to see where I walk and what I see than to watch paint dry.
So, today there will be a little bit of drying paint, and a little bit of scenery.
Since switching to Spectrum, there is no longer a telephone in the painting workshop (or in my studio, but that is a very long, annoying and boring tale). So maybe it is time to erase the phone #s on the chalkboard. But this is long and boring and annoying, and I’ve promised you other photos.
That was just a regular Three Rivers walk on a popular road for walkers. A friend who lives below Blossom Peak had neck surgery and has to walk a certain distance each day in a flat place. She got tired of circling her house, so I brought her to a flat place near my house to get in her steps. The pace was much slower than my regular morning walks, the light was much brighter, and it made everything look even prettier than normal.
There. Aren’t you glad you made it through the paint drying session?
I looked through the rest of my photos from our afternoon of trespassing in Lemon Cove and came up with more pictures and more thoughts for you.
Next week I will get back to work and show you some completed oil paintings.
It is so beautiful and green out! Trail Guy and I went for a walk in Lemon Cove with our Mineral King hiking buddies. Have a look at Sunday’s stroll.
I didn’t specify exactly where this walk was because it isn’t open to the public. We were trespassing with permission.
Tomorrow I’ll show you a few more photos from the walk, because almost all I am doing with work these days is mailing out Mineral King Wildflower books.
About a week ago on a chilly afternoon with brilliant sunshine and puffy white clouds, Trail Guy and I went for a walk. Nothing much to say – just enjoy spring in Three Rivers with me.
In the month of March, I am teaching a beginning drawing class to six people, two hours per week at Arts Visalia, a very fine non-profit gallery in downtown Visalia. (This is the county seat, the town we usually mean in Three Rivers when we say we have to go “down the hill”.)
The six folks were all new to me, although we have found a few connections, as one does in a place like Tulare County. We worked through my regular beginning exercises on the first evening, and they were terrific. Easy to work with, understood and followed directions, asked good questions that helped me clarify my instructions, and they all did very well.
I suggested that they bring photos they might like to draw from for the second lesson. That night, I woke up with such a good idea that it could only have been inspired by God.
It is based on the idea that there is an order of difficulty in drawing. Here it is from easiest to yikes:
I went through my zillions of photos and chose a stack that will give a beginner a reasonable chance at success. Then I chose one to try out – could I draw this quickly? Could I scan it successfully and make a printable tool for my new students?
Yeppers.
I like this! This means I have 11 more tracings, drawings and scans to do. Good thing I love to draw.
Did I learn anything in February of this year?
Maybe.
Now I need soothing, and perhaps you do too. In fact, let’s change gears entirely and I’ll show you a lovely late afternoon of feeding cattle from the back of a little ATV with the Captain.
And thus we conclude another February, a month that I find way too short here in Central California.
February is my favorite month around here. It is the beginning of spring, with apologies to my readers in less temperate climates, who might be a little less enthusiastic about this month. Sometimes I take a break in the middle of the day to enjoy Three Rivers during this exciting weather period.
Every year I ask this unanswerable question: Why can’t February have 31 days instead of August?
Prepare yourself for a long essay today. I hope you can recover from this major bloviation by tomorrow when I post about early spring in Three Rivers. Yes, I still work . . . you can see more paintings in progress next week. But February is my favorite month, so for now I am choosing to show you the beauty of Three Rivers instead of paintings in progress.
While at Kaweah Lake recently with Trail Guy, it occurred to me that our lake can serve as a metaphor for life in Tulare County. Think about these comparisons.
Tulare County is in the Central Valley, California’s “flyover country”, meaning the part people just blow through or over to get where they really want to go, like San Francisco, Napa Valley, Los Angeles, Death Valley, or Yosemite (“Oh dear, must we first go to Fresno? horrors!”).
While puttering around on the lake bottom (more around the edges, because it has been filling up lately), I thought of all the people flying past on the highway above, probably unaware of what the lake below has to offer. Isn’t a lake for sailing? This one, not so much. How about water skiing? Sure, in the earlier half of summer, not in February. Looks empty, meh, keep driving.
Tulare County is poor and uneducated, with bad air, fat people, high welfare, diabetes and teen pregnancies. Not too appealing, eh?
Kaweah Lake’s drained floor is kind of cruddy. We pick up aluminum cans and shake out the mud and gross stuff before squashing them. We slip and slide on the slimy mud that is coating the old road. We pick cockleburs out of our shoelaces and the shaggy edges of my unhemmed jeans. There is a lot of trash and broken things. It is a cheap place to visit for recreation compared to Sequoia—$4-5 per car instead of $30-35 for Sequoia. (Can’t remember exactly, so I am guessing at the actual numbers.)
Tulare County has been my home for almost 60 years (minus a few misguided years in college), and I work hard to find the good things here, particularly as an artist, looking for beautiful ways to represent my turf.
The lake bottom has treasures, whether it is aluminum cans for my friend’s Hawaii fund, Indian grinding holes, or an occasional blue marble or oyster shell (mysterious finds, indeed). Don’t forget, it also has beautiful views, lots of birds, and a few wildflowers too.
Tulare County’s main industry is agriculture. We feed the world, producing more food than any other place in the country (except Fresno County, because we trade off with them to be king).
Kaweah Lake was built as water storage for agriculture (but flood control was its primary purpose).
Tulare County has Sequoia National Park, a major recreational destination.
Kaweah Lake is a countywide draw for those who love to recreate on water.
Where in your life are you overlooking beauty, history, treasures, and recreational opportunities right under your nose, because it seems meh, boring, cruddy, and beneath you?