What I Did On My Summer Vacation, Chapter One

If you can’t see the photos, go here: cabinart.net/blog. Do you remember those terrible assignments on the first day of class in the fall (always the day after Labor Day—none of this ridiculous school attendance in August!)? I couldn’t think of a thing. Until age 11, we went to the beach for 2 weeks, but I never ever considered those other weeks to be a “vacation”. It was hang around the house time, and there was nothing to say about that uneventful sort of life. (I must have been so dull to not have told about days in the pool, trips to the library, or bikerides, and somewhat thick-headed as to have considered such unencumbered free time to be unremarkable.) 

On my recent trip to Oregon, I took photos, and I have plenty to say about it, so this will be a series. I don’t know if it was a vacation or not; I certainly had a good time, but is it a vacation if one spends 4 days driving? Is it a vacation if one spends three days working on a garage sale and one day doing farm labor?

The sale was enormous – the garage, driveway, front lawn, front walkway, all covered with merchandise from about 5 different households. We were very organized, dividing things into appropriate categories, helping customers as if it were a department store, making friends, seeing old friends. Everything was priced and labeled by owner’s initials. Day One of the sale. We continually rearranged the merchandise for better attention attraction. (Note I said “merchandise” rather than “stuff” or “junk”. Stuff is the junk you keep; junk is the stuff you throw away.)

Day Two of the sale was significantly smaller, but just as tightly arranged. If you hadn’t been aware of Day One, you might think this was the only day.We had an enormous amount of jewelry, which was enormously popular.

The most commonly heard comments were: 1. You two must be sisters! and 2. Everything is in such good condition!

This precious child fell in love with this doll, and her dad made her offer a lower price than the marked price. I told her yes but on the condition that she name the doll “Martha”.

This bumper sticker cracked me up, and the customer gave permission to photograph it.

That was two days of work, but I thoroughly enjoyed it. 

Day Two of First Road Trip Since the Plague

If you can’t see the photos, go here: cabinart.net/blog. Does anyone else find it hard to sleep in a motel? I was dying to open the window, but it opened onto a walkway where other occupants passed by, and who knows it someone would crawl in?? So, that, along with the road buzz, made sleeping a bit of a challenge after my 500 mile driving day. “Road buzz” is my description of that inner vibration from being so alert for all those hours. Even my long walk around Weed didn’t completely obliterate the inner hum.

So, I was back on the road by 5:15 AM.

Holy guacamole, Oregon is so very beautiful. Even though the hills are becoming golden, the dried out look is offset by all the greenery surrounding it. Maybe it seemed extra beautiful because it wasn’t hot.

Upon arrival, my people had an appointment in downtown Salem, the capitol of Oregon. So, I went along but took a walk, in search of the capitol building. There were so many pretty parks, and beautiful old homes. No photos of the homes, because I was on a quest.

The talking lady on my phone sent me around in circles, telling me for about 3/4 of a mile, “go one quarter mile and turn right”. That right turn never arrived, so finally I shut her off and just followed my instincts. 

Instincts? This was based on a vague hand wave indicating “it’s that way”, and eventually, seeing the tip of a gold idol way above the other buildings.

Idol? A statue in gold reminds me of things mentioned in the Old Testament. It also reminded me of all those Moroni angel statues on top of Mormon temples in Utah. I’m not sure who Oregon has commemorated on their capitol.

Turns out that I walked 3-1/2 miles in the middle of an August afternoon. What a thrill to be somewhere that doesn’t cause one to just cower inside the air-conditioning! (I’m sure they do plenty of cowering indoors during the winter, because everything is a trade-off of some sort.)

Look at the scenery on the drive back. I was a passenger, so the photos aren’t quite as wonky as the ones from when  I was driving.

What a beautiful state!

The next few days will be spent in family activities, probably not photoworthy, so tomorrow (Friday) we will return to a Mineral King post. 

Next week? More will be revealed in the fullness of time.

 

First Road Trip After the Plague

If you can’t see the photos, go here: cabinart.net/blog. We interrupt our regular broadcasting schedule to bring you a special report. After only leaving Tulare County 5 times in 2 years*, I drove 500 miles one day this week.

I headed straight out Highway 198 to Interstate Five, also known as “The Five” (not to be confused with a group of talking heads). For about the first 100 miles, I drove in silence. Then I tried talk radio, bouncing to music and back to talk. At about 250 miles, I put in a book on CD, Condoleeza Rice’s autobiography, read beautifully by her. Thinking I’d need more breaks, I was surprised to only stop twice for gas and once for coffee.

One of my favorite sights on that long highway is Truck Village. (My photos are better when I am a passenger than when driving.)

Suddenly, I was in Weed, my first night’s destination. This is a seedy town, dominated by Mt. Shasta, capturing traffic off The Five in addition to capitalizing on its unfortunate name (named after Mr. Abner Weed, who most likely is turning over in his grave).

The Hi-Lo Cafe has good food but a bit of trouble with spelling.

Resisting the urge to correct the sign, I took a walk around town. The elevation is about 3400′ and it was a very clear and comfortable evening to hop aboard the Zapato Express** after sitting all day long.

I went under the welcome arch (the cafe’s menu said it was built in the ’20s and then rebuilt in the ’60s), heading to downtown. There is definitely an artsy vibe, discovered several places but only photographed here on these decorated steps. Looks just like something I would do.  (Ahem. Something I may have done. Trail Guy is very tolerant of my little eccentric experiments.)

Weed has one rather worn-out looking mural. Sorry to break it to you, Weed, but a mural cannot save a village.

The town is dominated by Shasta.

Such a sad downtown. Many dispensaries, a thrift shop, a tattoo parlor, a couple of bars, a big antique mall, some souvenir places taking advantage of that unfortunate town name, a closed movie theater, a closed bowling alley, many other abandoned buildings, and some attempts to spruce things up by having nice sidewalks, a nice city hall, a couple of tiny parks. The homes I passed were full of potential for cuteness, but what would bring someone to this place besides the geography? 

Bye-bye, Weed. Maybe I’ll see you on the way back home.

*Once to Kern County, 4 times to Fresno County

**Take a walk

Just Twelve Colors

If you can’t see the photos, go here: cabinart.net/blog.

I have an artist friend in Kansas named Carrie Lewis. I found her on the internet some years ago while looking to see what other artists were blogging about, and how their blogs were working. Carrie works in colored pencil, and because I love to draw, used to use colored pencils, and still help some of my drawing students with colored pencils,I thought I could learn from her. 

A few weeks ago she asked me to write a guest post for her. This is the link: Carpal Tunnel Syndrome and Colored Pencils. 

After she posted it, the ideas started coming for more posts. Along with those ideas came intense summer heat and a desire to cower in my air conditioned studio instead of painting in the swamp-(barely)-cooled workshop.

I own a tremendous number of colored pencils, and I seldom use them for anything except putting color on American flags in pencil drawings and lending them to my drawing students. (I have way way more than these, and this is after thinning them out a few years ago!)

Because I paint using the primary colors, I’ve wondered why I think I need so many colors of pencils. I don’t. I really don’t need them all. Colored pencil manufacturers sell starter sets of 12 colors, and it is a great challenge to see if I can produce pieces using only those 12 colors.

My first set of 12 came from Aunt Shirley for my birthday in 5th grade (age 10, I think). I still have 2 pencils from that set. (I can tell by the typestyle.)

By looking on the internet, I learned the 12 colors that were originally in the Prismacolor starter box. (It was clear plastic and it finally cracked. . . wahhh. It was so cool.) I also learned which 12 colors are in the Polychromos starter set. Then I went through my pencils and filled a box with those 24 pencils, along with back-ups and pencil extenders (circled in photo). The back-up pencils are for Prismacolors, because they break and break and break and. . .

I started a colored pencil drawing using just the 12 Prismacolor pencils.

Colored pencils are difficult for me to get an exact match, but that doesn’t really matter. What matters is making beautiful, plausible, believable, realistic art. Because. . .

Using pencils, oil paint and murals, I make art that people can understand, of places and things they love, for prices that won’t scare them.

Ten New Things in July

If you can’t see the photos, go here: cabinart.net/blog. In the last week and a half of July, I became aware of so many new pieces of knowledge, enlightenment, and information. Enjoy!

  1. Mustang Mint appeared in my wildflower book as an unknown, or an unsure. This year I discovered it along the Mineral King Road, near Wolverton Point. It wasn’t in a good place for photos, so this is blurry. But I knew right away what it was—very fragrant.
  2. Have you read the Declaration of Independence (since the 8th grade)? I didn’t remember that it is a list of grievances against King George III. It was also interesting to see that it was signed by 56 men. For fun, look at these first names: 6 Williams, 6 Georges, 6 Johns, 5 Thomases, 3 Samuels, 3 Benjamins along with one each of these unusual monikers: Carter, Button, Elbridge, and Step. (This doesn’t add up to 56—there were other names I didn’t mention.) All of them were putting their lives on the line FOR US!! I highly recommend listening to Mike Rowe’s podcast Episode #104, The One Percenters.
  3. I learned that red, white and blue stand for valor, purity, justice.
  4. What Makes This Song Great is a wonderful YouTube site (station? channel? series?) by Rick Beato. This is another great find from Mike Rowe who interviewed him on Episode #259. Rick is a music producer (I think that is what it is called) who is musically brilliant. He breaks down songs from different eras and explains why they are so endearing and enduring. His enthusiasm will make you smile, and if you are around his age (born in 1962), you will enjoy the songs he picks by groups you probably used to love. Chicago, Boston, Kansas, and Toto (what’s with the geographical group names? and then “Toto”, appropriately listed here after Kansas?) But where is the Little River Band, hunh?? And where are the Carpenters? How about Bread? (L.Mc., he has a video on Gordon Lightfoot!)
  5. A friend told me about a daily 15 minute podcast for news, Morning Wire. So far it seems pretty straightforward, just the facts ma’am, but the reporters have that trendy youthful way of speaking. What I mean is that they talk fast, begin many sentences with “well”, “yeah”, or “so”, and when the anchor thanks them for reporting, they respond with either “my pleasure” or “anytime”. Those quirks are simply distractions, not a commentary on the quality of the reporting and at least they don’t talk through their noses with that dropped growl thing at the end.
  6. If you catch a bushy-tailed wood rat in a Hav-A-Hart trap and release it far away, it will come back. We’ll have to release it even farther next time. No photos. Ick, rodents.
  7. Sacrifice: A Gold Star Widow’s Fight for the Truth showed me that upper military personnel sometimes lie, file false reports, cover up mistakes, deny responsibility, and as a result, people die. Michelle Black wrote an engrossing book about losing her husband and uncovering the truth. Scary. What a brave and determined woman! (I met Michelle’s mom, who told me about the book.)
  8. If you are bitten by one mosquito, others find you more easily. That’s why sometimes the mosquitoes go all nutso over one person and ignore the other people in the area. I don’t know specifics, and I didn’t verify this fact, but it makes sense to me. (This tool box has nothing to do with anything other than the light caught my fancy.)
  9. Class Reunion: by the time 45 years since high school arrives, people have become comfortable in their own skin, everyone feels like a true friend, people are ready for real conversations, baldly honest and authentic. I had a wonderful time wandering around the room, reading name tags, getting reacquainted or making a new acquaintance. Out of a class of about 400, only about 80 were in attendance, there was no music (the voices alone were LOUD), and no one (that I could tell) got sloppy drunk. Initially I only signed up out of guilt, because some people travel great distances, so I should have the courtesy to drive 35 miles. I’m glad I went.
  10. Over the last several decades (I don’t know the specifics), California farmers are using 14% less water and producing 31% more food! THANK YOU, FARMERS!! (Food comes from farms, not from grocery stores. And do NOT complain about farmers if you are wearing cotton, or eating food. Go ahead and complain if you are eating a Google, driving a Facebook, sleeping in a Twitter. Comfy?? Be warmed and filled.)

Making Stuff is Part of Being an Artist

If you subscribe to the blog and read the email on your phone, the photos might not show up. (Some people get them, some do not; it isn’t a problem I know how to solve.) You can see them by going to the blog on the internet. It is called cabinart.net/blog, and the latest post is always on top.

“Artist” can mean someone who makes stuff for fun and it can mean someone who makes stuff for a living. I’ve been the Stuff For Fun type of artist as long as I have been a functional human. The business end of things came later in life.

Look at this list of phases I have gone through: paint-by-number, woven potholders, lanyards, notecards with pressed flowers with wax paper and glitter, decoupage posters on grape trays, sewing, macrame, crocheting, tatting, quilts, grapevine wreaths, willow furniture, mosaic stepping stones, knitting, bread, yogurt, hummus.

It is deeply satisfying to be able to make useful and functional items, even if one quits the craft before achieving any great level of success. (Let’s not talk about those paint-by-number or potholder kits).

Nothing has changed. A week or two ago, on a day that was meant for oil painting, I had projects galore that were calling out for attention. None of my paintings have imminent deadlines, so I took advantage of a loose schedule.

Current Projects

Project #1 is to turn a discarded road sign into something attractive that reminds people to not race through our neighborhood.

Project #2 is turning a book into a hiding place. (Just a Reader’s Digest Condensed book—don’t get your knickers in a knot.)

Project #3 is PROTECTING SOME FLOWERS FROM THOSE BLASTED DEER IN THE YARD!  The shrub in the middle is a butterfly bush, chosen because the deer have ignored another one in the yard for several years. But here in the fake wishing well, one of those miserable creatures has been pruning this shrub with its teeth, and ignoring the petunias for some unknown reason. I planted more petunias, some statice, columbine, and something called “tickweed”. Then I pounded in these bamboo stakes, and later wrapped them with twine in a random, schlocky manner that I hope is very annoying to the deer. (I noticed that one of the tickweed plants had been unplanted and dropped on the ground. Those sneaky so-and-sos were sabotaging the new plantings while I was gathering supplies.)

A few days prior to these projects, Trail Guy moved a chair that was part of the herb garden fencing. It was gone for a short time before he put it back. Meanwhile, this is what happened:

We think Bambi was there all day before we noticed, so I hope he was traumatized enough to NEVER want to return.

My gardening efforts are a continual triumph of hope over experience.

Messing With Other People’s Art

There have been several times in my career when I have been asked to change someone else’s art. I have repaired a torn canvas, changed a boulder in a painting that looked like a skull, fixed a child that looked like a little hunchback, and brightened colors in a dull painting. All these were done without knowing the original artist, and with assurance that the original artist would never know.

The Mineral King Room makeover was a different story. The original designer is highly educated, experienced and respected in The Art World. I am somewhat known in the local Art World, but I try to keep a low profile when it comes to any formal types of situation where I might be outed as a total DBO, mostly self-taught, Tulare County native. (You know how I feel about ArtSpeak. . . ugh.) 

I respect the original artist of the Mineral King Room and understand that she put a lot of thought into the design. The folks who approved the design were awed by her work, and didn’t think that there would be a strong reaction to the teal color and the stylized mountains, which were all effective from a designer’s point of view.

The approvers were mistaken about the reaction, which was strongly against the color and the mountain shapes. This necessitated a call to your Central California artist, who also is the local Mineral King artist.

The designer wasn’t pleased when she learned that I would be giving her design a makeover. (What artist would be??) I don’t blame her, because she chose all the shapes and colors based on her design expertise, to provide the best interpretive background for historic displays. She was professional and polite, while sounding as if she was defending a dissertation, not in a defensive way, but protective and offering the rationale for her design decisions.

My approach, on the other hand, also based on training and experience, is to simply please the customer. (My very wise dad taught me the all important business principle of “You kiss their fanny and take their money”.) We have to think about who the visitors and supporters of the Mineral King Preservation Society are, and what they will understand. The answer to that is that they love Mineral King, not a stylized version of it. (“Nosirree, I’ve climbed Sawtooth, and that ain’t it!”)

This is how the mountains surrounding the Mineral King valley really look.

So, with respect to the designer, who is very good at what she does, I just dove in and “corrected” her work. I don’t mean that it wasn’t good; it just wasn’t right for the audience.

Between Jobs

That’s “between paying jobs”. I didn’t charge my church, a decision I made many years ago—I will charge people in the church, but not jobs for the church.

What does an artist do when there aren’t commissions or upcoming shows? (Besides look out the window and contemplate matters of consequence).

(Or think about joining Pippin in a nap.)

(Or look out the window and wonder why this blooming shrub has the peculiar name of “pineapple guava”.)

Your Central California artist does these chores:

  1. Plan new paintings, based on the assumption (and experience) that current ones will sell, and the sellers will want replacements.
  2. Package notecards for a custom order.
  3. Balance the checkbook
  4. Sort through piles and toss or file all the stuff that seems to multiply in the dark
  5. Go to the bank (as a few checks trickle in)
  6. Write a few notes
  7. Contact drawing students who have missed for awhile to ask if they quit and forgot to tell me
  8. Write blog posts
  9. Answer the phone, learn of a request for a QUICK, CAN YOU HELP US RIGHT AWAY?, and dive in to planning the next job.

Okay, let’s roll!

Ten Things I Learned in May

  1. I learned about a Redbud booth location that was new to me: a. the patio is very convenient for set-up and breakdown; b. that location would be too hot if it was a warm weekend; c. sharing a booth is an excellent idea; d. my screens can blow over.
  2. Selling a home without an experienced and organized realtor is UNTHINKABLE. (Nope, not my home; I’m still here). I highly recommend Diana Jules of Sierra Real Estate if you live in my neck of the woods. (Woods have necks??) She made it stress-free and is a joy to be around.
  3. It is very complicated to be simple. Setting up a new landline at our cabin has taken 4 very lengthy phone calls with Huge&Rude, the dominant (and only) communications company for Mineral King. I could fill a page with the things they promised and did not deliver, along with all the lies I was told (probably by accident of ignorance, due to the complicated nature of simple things). 
  4. Look what happens when you neglect to pay attention while baking; let’s call it Flour Deficit Disorder. I kept ignoring the little voice in my head that said, “Not enough flour—the dough is too thin”. (It sounds an awful lot like the voice that tells me that a knitting project is going the wrong direction).
  5. Iron-on patches don’t work. (And isn’t it interesting that my jeans wore out above the knees rather than on the knees?)
  6. I learned that there is a Murphy bed with an attached desk that keeps its load when you lower the bed. See that desk/tray piece beneath the mattress? It stays in a horizontal position even when the bed is down.
  7. Precis is a real word. It is pronounced “PRAY-seez” and it means a concise summary. 
  8. Have you ever bought or seen squished pennies at a tourist site? They were introduced to the USA in 1892, although begun in Austria in 1818. The elongation machines cost $4-5000, and and it usually costs .51 to squish a penny. Even if a single transaction costs $1, it seems like a pretty long shot to make one’s money back. The coins are called “elongated coins” and collecting these souvenirs is a popular hobby. Souvenir collection itself goes back to the early history of humans when one needed to bring home something foreign from travels to prove one had been somewhere. The Three Rivers Historical Museum plans to get a machine, and one of the designs will be the logo I made for the Mineral King Preservation Society. There are maps online for the dedicated collectors which show where the machines can be found throughout the USA. When I was first asked about the use of my design, I had my usual response:
  9. A friend showed me an app for the phone called Picture This. If you take a photo of a plant using their camera, it tells you the Latin name, common name, and characteristics of the plant. To keep the app free, you have to hit “cancel” a few times each time you use it. Otherwise, after 7 free days, it will cost you $29.99 for a year. I wonder if the subscription comes with benefits other than just not having as many interruptions to sell you things. . . see? My mind is flooded with questions. (Discovered the name of a terrible smelling weed in our yard is “stink grass”!)
  10. For several years I have used DuckDuckGo as my search engine. I didn’t like the sense of being stalked by Google. Now I have learned of a new search engine called Ecosia It plants trees when you use it a certain number of times or something like that. I just like the idea that it isn’t trying to make a gazillion dollars by selling ads instead of helping me find stuff on the World Wide Web. We’ll see if it works. I learned about it from Seth Godin’s blog. He is a little bit too smart for me, but I do trust him when he tells about a good product that I can actually use. Not sure how, not sure if it will work, but I will try it.