Kaweah Arts in Three Rivers (now located in The Dome) and the store at the Silver City Resort 4 miles below Mineral King have been selling steadily for me so far this summer.
When times are slow, it is easy to start thinking: “I’m a has-been. My prices are too high/too low. I’ve saturated the market. It’s all over. I feel fat—maybe I should start singing.”
When sales are brisk, it is easy to start thinking: “It’s about time. I wonder if I should raise my prices. Finally, I’m starting to figure this thing out.”
The truth is that there are feasts, famines, surges, and ebbs. The economy is up, then the economy is down. (Mostly in Tulare County the economy is “downer” than in the rest of the country.) Sales are seasonal. It’s all part of the business of art.
All I can do is continue to paint the best I know how, and when sales are surging, keep producing for the wonderful stores that sell my work.
P.S. The sizes aren’t shown in relativity to one another. They vary in size from 6×6″ up to 6×18″ and 12×16″.
On my first day back at trying to be fully human, I resumed detailing this piece. This Mineral King painting was a big challenge on many levels, and I am now quite happy with it.
Cabins below Timber Gap and Empire.
Feeling accomplished, I chose the next painting to work on, thinking it would be a piece of cake. This is a scene I have admired for decades and photographed it many times. It often looks great when I am driving back to Three Rivers (it doesn’t show on the way down the hill unless I do the Linda Blair head-twist, and no, I didn’t see the movie) There is no turnout, so it gets shot through the windshield. Very few of the photos are worthy, so it will require lots of ad libbing.
With a good start on my first 8×16, I started the next one, also a drive-by shot, that will also require some ad libbing.
I know that I might have more paintings of orange groves with mountains than there will be interested parties. But then again, maybe not. Guessing, speculating, and winging it are all part of the business of art. Apparently, so is ad-libbing. In ArtSpeak, it is called “artistic license”.
A week ago, I had a situation to deal with: I got sick. Such a disruption. I was only able to paint a little bit before the need to lie down took over.
While reclining, I used the laptop to look carefully at the paintings finished and paintings needed for the upcoming solo show at CACHE. More paintings are needed, but feeling poorly meant that I would paint poorly.
There were other tasks to tackle, ones that didn’t require heavy concentration. One day I gathered canvases, put on the hanging wires, chose titles, assigned inventory numbers, and actually slapped on a light layer of paint. I knew it wasn’t a good day for painting when I dropped my palette. It landed upside down, of course. I headed back to the couch.
These are all 8×16″, a new size for me. 10×20″ was too big, and 6×12″ was too small. These might be just right, as Goldilocks said.
These are all 16×20″.
Another simple task for another day was to scan these two new Mineral King paintings.
Sawtooth #61, 8×8″, $145Mineral King Valley #7, 8×8″, $145
Recovery came; it always does (except when it is time for the big dirt nap).
What does an artist do all day? For this artist, every day is different. Yeah, it seems as if all I did all winter was paint, paint, paint. That’s different right now.
First, I walked with my neighbor (numb toes, but manageable for 2 miles), then I worked in my herb garden for about an hour.
The deer aren’t messing with these hollyhocks. Haha, deer.
I put together a bank deposit, and then had to make a phone call that ended up taking a full hour. It was a successful attempt to untangle a Word problem. Nope, not a crossword type word problem, the Microsoft type of problem.
This led to about 2.5 hours of proofreading.
Suddenly, the morning was over, and I had to paint a sign. Sometimes I do odd jobs like that.
Suddenly the afternoon was almost over and I hadn’t oil-painted and it was killer hot and the swamp cooler hadn’t been turned on. Yikes! I went into the studio for a bit to scan 2 new paintings in hopes that the swamp would have a chance to get rolling.
Classic Mineral King, 8×10″, $145
Classic Mineral King 2, 10×10″, $200
I had some iced tea (herbal, because caffeine is a bad choice in the afternoon), and then went to the easels. It was too hot to putter or just dink around*, so I dove in fully focused with a game plan. Mike Rowe kept me company interviewing Riley Gaines—no relation to Chip and Joanna as far as I know—about her new book**, Swimming Against the Current. (The link is for ThriftBooks rather than the big A.)
A few hours later, this was almost finished, and I was too.
All it needs is the edges painted. And a few houseboats—I forgot about that part. It also needs a title beyond the working title of “Rachel’s View”. Full Lake? Full Lake at Sunset? Lake Kaweah is Full? Still Waters? (corny. . . nope) Drowned Wildflower Seeds? (My great-uncle used to mourn the drowned wildflowers after the dam was built. . . I guess I have come by my love of wildflowers honestly, eh?)
*Sometimes I am not very focused, just moving from painting to painting, dabbing a bit here, perfecting a bit there.
**Imma wait for the liberry copy. It is because that’s what frugal people do.
Sales were slow last year, mostly due to the fact of my three selling locations either being closed or taking a big hit of one sort or another.
This spring, things broke loose, opened up, took off. Have a look! (I may have forgotten some, because I fell out of the habit of keeping track.)
It was the usual blend of citrus, poppies, redwood trees, and Mineral King, with two of the river during peak run-off season. I do have a few other subjects, but these continue to be the most popular. The largest size painting was 11×14 10×30″; most of the buyers were either getting gifts or souvenirs. And people buy paintings of what they have experienced, so I do my best to keep things seasonally appropriate.
The pencil commission of the dog was from some old friends, and I am so touched that they still think of me when they have an art need. (“Make new friends, but keep the old; one is silver and the other gold.”)
The pencil commission of a cabin was the biggest thrill, because it came from a stranger who found me through the internet, and a thrill because drawing cabins in pencil is my strongest skill, the thing I enjoy the most. Paintings sell better, so I will continue to paint. One day I might actually have confidence in my abilities in that department. Always practicing, always learning, and hopefully, always improving. . .
Well, not exactly regular, because it involved gathering paintings from Kaweah Arts and pricing them for the Redbud Festival. But that is all part of the business of art in the life of your Central California Artist.
I started 3 new sequoia paintings so that Kaweah Arts has back stock.
Then it was time to drive to Kaweah Arts to collect paintings that might sell at the Redbud Festival. I gathered all except one, because it was hanging on a hanger that I couldn’t figure out how to operate.
I piled all the paintings according to size and attached price stickers. No matter how I do this, they don’t stay on. I did it anyway, because someone(s) else would be minding my booth for me on Sunday and I wanted it to be easy for them. Sunday mornings at the Redbud Festival have historically very low attendance, but it would be wrong to leave my booth unattended while I attended to my responsibilities at church.
This doesn’t look like very many, does it? There are about 30 here, stacked on the desk.
Something happens when I am seeing them all together and studying them up close and in good light: suddenly, none of them look quite good enough. Sigh. I hate that.
It was a beautiful day, and I worked with the studio door open.
Then I painted some more until it was time to set up for Redbud.
The plan was to get all the structures in place and then take the paintings and other merchandise on Saturday morning. It was so very windy that we just unloaded the display pieces and headed home. I didn’t take any photos of the wind for you.
About the paintings: if I mix up and paint each color across three paintings at once, it goes a bit faster. It’s a continual struggle to not spend too much time on paintings, because the prices have to be sensible for the tourists, and the stores keep 30%. I often hear that my prices are “too low”, but it is good to be realistic about Tulare County. Besides. . .
I use pencils, oil paintings, and murals, to make art that people can understand, of places and things they love, for prices that won’t scare them.
This is not a redbud; it is a calla lily, blooming for the first time in 25 years in my yard.
Hey, friends. Today was Day One of the two-day Redbud Festival in Three Rivers. This year it has returned to the Lions Roping Arena, a great big outdoor space. There is good signage leading to it, but in case you are wondering, cross the Kaweah on North Fork Drive (just before Sierra Subs), go about a mile, turn right, cross the North Fork of the Kaweah, and turn left. Follow the dirt road to the arena. (It’s dusty, but you don’t need 4-wheel drive or a pick-em-up truck.)
It was a little hard to leave in the morning with the sun shining through the lobelia blooming on my front porch, but sometimes an artist has to do what she has to do.
There aren’t a lot of vendors, and attendance was low. This sounds bad on the surface, but as a introvert with decent social skills, I liked have plenty of unrushed time to converse with each visitor. I met some fine folks, and I reconnected with other people I hadn’t seen for awhile. There was a man with a guitar who played and sang a few songs each hour, very pleasant, not loud, and I found myself singing along because many were songs from my era (the ’70s). There was food for sale, but I didn’t get any because I don’t like to be caught with my mouth full while working my booth.
The pointed canvas top is the Redbud Garden Club’s booth, selling plants behind my booth.
All in all, it was a pleasant day, and I sold enough to hold my head up and return for day two.
You might enjoy stopping by tomorrow, Mother’s Day.
Official hours are 10-4, but I will have some booth neighbors minding my booth until I can get there, maybe around 11:15 or 11:30. (I have responsibilities at church first.)
At the beginning of the day, happy to be set up.I took a photo of Trail Guy taking a photo of me.
I’ve been telling you about Texas so eagerly that I almost forgot to tell you about the Redbud Festival. It is traditionally on Mother’s Day Weekend. This year it will return to the Lions Roping Arena in Three Rivers. I haven’t participated in a few years, but this time your Central California artist will be back, Lord willing, the Creek, etc.
Oil paintings, notecards, coloring books, Mineral King Wildflower books (very few remaining), and of course Wilsonia books will all be available for purchase in my booth.
I was able to add the branches on the left and sign the painting before heading to Texas.
After getting some input from a smart and honest artist friend, I tackled this one again. It is much better, but it needs to hang around for a bit before I decide if it is good enough to sign.
This painting of the Honeymoon Cabin has been with me for three years, and I have wondered how to improve it. When in doubt, add details. . . it might not be the best solution, but it is my default position.
In addition to adding details, I refined some edges and brightened some colors. Now I really like it (but it is still for sale.) The improvements will be more visible when it is dry and photographed with more care. At 18×36″, it is way too big for the scanner.
Two discomforts
It was hot in the painting workshop, which meant mosquitos. I put a vase of lemon geranium (it has “citronella” in the official name) by the easel, but supplemented its weak efforts with repellent. (Sigh. Scratching bites anyway.) Summer’s coming, and the painting studio isn’t very comfortable in the summer. That’s why I poured it on all winter and spring.
Two jobs for Pippin
In addition to the heat and the mosquitos, I had the added bonus of listening to Pippin growl over a dead gopher and then crunch it for awhile. Nice job, you fantastic hunter! He has two jobs in life: be cute, and keep gophers from wrecking the yard.
For 30 years, I have been helping people learn to draw. The classes are small: 4-8 people together for an hour per week, each one working on his own work at his own pace. It has become the highlight of my art business, a chance to connect with fabulous people, sharing tips and encouragement with one another, becoming friends, and becoming artists. Some people start out knowing a little bit, and others begin knowing nothing. All learn, except those who quit too soon.
Someone drew this in pencil; my most experienced student borrowed the same photo and drew it in colored pencil.
This drawing is a significant location in this student’s life and the photo was TERRIBLE. Somehow we found our way through it to completion. Nice job, RN!
This duck was drawn from a photo I took while painting murals at Mooney Grove Park. My student was feeling down over some tough things in life, and I thought this goofy guy would lift her spirits. She named the drawing “George the Duck”, and it did lift her spirits.
My student only had a poor photo of this odd little barn as it looks now, and wanted to draw it the way she remembered it from childhood. It was a real challenge to crawl into her memory with her and figure out how to make this make sense, but we did it!!
Kelvin found a picture of Moro Rock taken by a drone (How? Aren’t those things illegal in National Parks?) We spent quite a bit of time contemplating whether or not he would be putting miniature people on top. You can see that he did a spectacular job!
Lessons happen on Tuesday afternoons in Exeter. My classes are full, but if four people who are all available from 1-2 p.m. get on a waiting list, I will add another class. Cost is $60 per month plus supplies. We don’t meet in December, July, or August.
