She Loves Flowers, Chapter One

“She” means me. Loving flowers is a cliché, and as someone who normally marches to the beat of a different drummer, it is a little embarrassing to admit how much I love flowers. After all, who DOESN’T??

Oh well. I am 62 years old, and I can say and do (almost) whatever I want. Of course there are consequences to one’s choices, but I don’t see any downside to admitting that I love flowers.

One morning, the local crew of superior weed-eaters showed up at 7. In my opinion, they could have waited a week. However, these guys are popular, and we wanted to get on their list sooner rather than later. And if they come early in the day on a day that isn’t hot, there is less fire danger.

BUT THE HILLSIDE STILL HAD FLOWERS!

So, I was out there at 6:30, doing something I NEVER do: picking wildflowers. The Fairy Lanterns were so good this year. What if we weed-eated (weed-ate?) too soon and there won’t be enough seeds to bloom next year??

At least I have my photos.

Maybe they’ll last longer on the front porch.

How about from the other angle?

Or some close-ups:

Okay, how about seeing them straight-on:

Let’s observe a moment of silence for the end of spring, the demise of the the wildflowers behind my house and everywhere. . .

. . . sigh.

Nine Things Learned in April

  1. Converting a print book to an ebook is a bit of a slog. The type cannot be justified but has to be “ragged right/justified left”; text cannot wrap around photos; all blank pages (the left side or “verso” page that forces chapters to begin on the right or “recto” page) need to be deleted. Boring, perhaps, but I did learn this in April while converting Adventures in Boy Scouting: Tales by the Old Scoutmaster to an eBook. (print book available here)
  2. The correct term for the little card that allows you to drive legally is DRIVER license, not DRIVER’S license. (I know—nobody cares, anymore than they care that it is Daylight SAVING Time rather than “Savings”)
  3. Electric bicycles! My friend bought a pair and invited me on the maiden voyage. What a hoot! They weighed a ton and there were many little buttons and levers, so we stood in the parking lot for awhile trying to understand what was what. Then we made some circles around the lot before heading out. It was definitely not a workout, it was definitely fun (everything I do with her is fun), and I definitely don’t want to own one. She decided that they are just a moped with the option for a little exercise. 
  4. These are Phacelia campanularia, AKA desert bluebells, native to Southern California. Deer don’t seem to like them, but the gophers did.
  5. I lent my piano to the annual Jazz Affair here in Three Rivers for a session called “Dueling Pianos”. I learned that mine is called a “spinet”, the other was an “upright”, and they were closer to dancing than to dueling.I learned that there are people who can play in perfect synchronization without ever looking at music, discussing what key or tempo, who will begin, when to end, or even practicing together. Blew my mind. My piano has never ever sounded like that before, and unless the High Sierra Jazz Club needs to borrow it next year, it never will again. 
  6. Here is a matter of consequence to contemplate: “Over the past few centuries, we’ve traded speed for rigor; innovation for wisdom; achievement for sanity; technology for connection; and disconnection for immediate comfort. And we’re all paying the price.” Excerpt from Dr. John Delony, Own Your Past, Change Your Future. This book became available at the end of the month, but because I preordered it, I got an e-book to read before the real one arrived. I haven’t finished it yet, because I’d rather read a paper book than a screen one.
  7. I tried to make a stepping stone with poured cement instead of a preformed one. That is because I had some chunky items that needed to be tapped down into the wet cement. Instead of wasting the items that I have been collecting for several years, I used some tiles to make an experimental one. Good thing, because it crumbled. An experienced friend helped me make a second one, and his experience made all the difference. He built a mold, brought the right tools to mix the cement correctly, knew the right consistency, and even helped arrange the items. Here it is while still wet.
  8. If a plant in my yard survives the deer, chances are that a turkey will smash it. After planting 12 foxgloves last year, 5 survived a week in the summer without water. Those five promised blooms, and then those stupid wild turkeys broke the stalk of at least one. So, planting 12 and getting 4 blooms means I only have a 25% ROI on my planting. (Haha, clumsy turkeys – all the daffodils survived)
  9. The past participle of “prove” is “proved”, not “proven”. “Proven” is reserved for use as an adjective, such as “It is a proven principle that one should consult the Chicago Manual of Style when deciding the correct participle of ‘prove'”.

Sidetracked and Distracted

Since we are nearing the end of my favorite time of year, I thought I’d give you a break from watching painted flowers develop and show you a bit of the rest of my world at the time I was painting that bouquet. 

There are many distractions when one works at home. 

First, my neighbor has this incredible plant, and I don’t know the name, but the deer haven’t eaten it yet, so I NEED the name, because I NEED this color.

The mail came, and it contained a package of 2 new yarns. I haven’t talked about knitting for awhile; didn’t want to lose any more readers than I’ve already lost because the emailed subscriptions don’t show photos on people’s phones. (Still unsolved; my web designer is still too busy.)

The pinkish red yarn might exactly match the few remaining flowering quince. As a self-proclaimed color junkie, I had to check, and yeppers, it matches. (Destined to be a baby blanket).

I also needed to know if the lavender matched my blooming lilacs.. Nope, not quite. This one is destined to become another sweater that I don’t need; my knitting is a continual triumph of hope over experience, just like my gardening efforts. Sometimes I get lucky and all the parts work out. Usually the sleeves are too tight or too loose, the buttons keep falling off, the ends don’t stay woven in, I find a dropped stitch after wearing it several times, the collar won’t lie down, it is too short and fat, it is too long and tight. . . you get the idea. (Baby blankets always fit their recipients.)

I really did have some work to do that day. When one is an artist in a small town (the sign for Three Rivers says 2600 but I don’t know if all those people really live here) where one’s life overlaps with friends on many levels, one is often privileged to help out. This was fun, but definitely best viewed from the back of a fast horse. (Would take too long to explain and I’ve already stretched your attention span by going on and on about color and knitting.).

On one of my trips back to the house (a 30 second trip on the Zapato Express*), the light was beautiful on the hillside.

The green and the wildflowers are so fleeting; my daffodils no longer look like this.

So, even though all this distraction and sidetraction (that’s a good word, don’t you agree?) is taking me from my real work, I believe that it is an artist’s obligation to absorb as much beauty as possible whenever it is available. That’s part of the business of art.

*Zapato Express means I walked.

Blogiversary Bonus

What is a blog? It is a web log, an online journal, shortened to blog. 

What is a blogiversary? It is blog anniversary.

Yesterday was my 12th blogiversary. That is 12 years of posting 5 days a week about the business of art, life in Three Rivers/rural Tulare County, peculiar sights, a (rare) visit to another place, things I learn, and always, Mineral King. That is approximately 3,350 posts.

Today I am just giving you some photographs of beautiful things in my little world. It has nothing to do with the business of art, other than an awareness of beauty which I believe is the basis of good art (“good” as I define the word).

 

Thank you for hanging with me through the years, or thank you for joining up somewhere along the way.

8 Things I Learned in March

  1. See the pointed peak? After many years of noticing it, I learned it has a name: Sulphur Mountain. A friend called it by name when we were having a poppy conversation. Shortly after, another friend left me a message telling me to be sure to see the poppies on Sulphur Mountain. Twice in one day!
  2. Even if poppies begin in January, even if it snows on them in February, they can still be fabulous in March.
  3. (THIS IS A STRONGLY EXPRESSED OPINION THAT I AGREE WITH – NOT SOMETHING NEW THAT I LEARNED). From Kevin D. Williamson: “Daylight Saving Time is a great example of the progressive imagination, forever at odds with the organic cycles and natural variation in human life, insistent that no aspect of that life — down to the time on the clock — is beyond regimentation and rationalization. Inconvenient. Irritating. Arrogant. And, in spite of the connotations of the word ‘progressive’, absolutely stuck in the past.” I severely dislike being jerked around and resent the foolishness that tells us we are getting another hour of daylight. We are not getting any more daylight—it is simply being “moved” to another part of the day. Humans do not have the ability to create more daylight. (Did you know it is Daylight SAVING Time – not SAVINGS?)
  4. After being without a printer that works with my computer, it is a real treat and a luxury to have one that ACTUALLY WORKS! Reminds me of how special an automatic garage door is—I never stop appreciating it. 
  5. California Poppy Preserve, Antelope Valley is off State Route 138 off of Interstate 5, just south of Frazier Park, heading toward Lancaster. I have seen photos from this place for years but never knew where it was.
  6. Trail Guy was channel surfing and found A River Runs Through it, one of the few movies we saw together at a theater, thirty years ago. (REALLY?? 30?? Yes. really.) Back then I thought it was a boring movie with nice scenery. This time I actually liked it. (The oil painting is titled “One with the Stream”, painted in 2011 of Trail Guy fly fishing in Mineral King; it hangs in our dentist’s office, Dr. Darren Rich, a dentist I highly recommend and not just for his good taste in art, in Exeter).
  7. I was looking through some old sheet music by the Carpenters (I still love the Carpenters, always have, always will). Did you know that “Bless the Beasts and the Children” was cowritten by Barry De Vorzon & Perry Botkin, Jr.? Neither did I. I don’t know who he is; that was a weird little surprise. Related to Trail Guy? Not all Botkins are related to one another, so who knows? Here is his website: Perry Botkin, Jr.
  8. She Of The Barking Dogs has retired—what a relief! When she is home, the dogs don’t bark. 

If it wasn’t for February, March would be my favorite month; February wins because it doesn’t get hot, sometimes it rains and snows, the clock stays where it belongs, and it is the beginning of the intense green along with flowers.

Paint While the Poppies are Hot

Poppies aren’t literally hot; this is my version of “Strike while the iron is hot”. What does that actually mean? I think it has something to do with blacksmithery—taking action in a timely manner.

These four oil paintings of California poppies sold immediately.

The poppies are out in abundance, and interest in them is high. Gotta paint poppies now! These will have to be done quickly and possibly delivered while still slightly wet if I am to tap into the season of interest. Let’s get those canvases ready NOW.

 

These two (6×6″ and 4×6″) are now available at Kaweah Arts in Three Rivers (unless they sold over the weekend).

This 8×8″ needs some more touching up and a signature.

Chop-chop, Central California artist!

And here is a thought: I do not remember poppies in abundance like this when I was kid. Is it because: a. they just didn’t bloom this way; b. my family wasn’t “into” poppies and wildflowers; c. I was oblivious? 

Probably c.

 

Poppy Peeping

The poppies and other wildflowers were at at their peak on March 11. Three friends and I took the afternoon off to go fill our eyes.

First, we had to empty our wallets to fill the gas tank. Welcome to Three Rivers.

Then we headed down around the lake, and up Dry Creek Road, all within eastern Tulare County.

This last photo shows Terminus Dam in the distance, which creates Kaweah Lake. The flowers weren’t fabulous right there at the Dry Creek Preserve, but it was clear and green, which is pretty fabulous on its own. 

We never did get out amidst the flowers but stayed on the shoulder of the road, and actually did no trespassing whatsoever.

I must be finally growing up.

February is Over

I don’t have a Learned List for you this month. I learned some things, but they don’t belong here. Instead, here is a list of things for which I am grateful in February.

  1. February remains my favorite month, because it truly is the beginning of spring around here. 
  2. We have access to some fantastic oranges, which are very fun to glean and to share.
  3. Sales of my paintings continue.
  4. Our three cats are still alive and well, 4 years for Tucker, 3 years for his nephews Jackson and Pippin.
  5. My catalytic converter hasn’t croaked.
  6. The wildflowers are terrific.
  7. We had some snow and rain.
  8. We have fantastic friends who step up during times of difficulty to help.
  9. The daffodils are steadily blooming and will continue for awhile including in places that I forgot I planted.
  10. Knitting is a great pacifier, a healthy and productive alternative to smoking. I started and finished one sweater, finished another sweater and a baby blanket, and began a new baby blanket. 

Now, let’s just enjoy some spring time in the foothills of Central California.

The poppies are barely visible below Comb Rocks but I know those are poppies and not fiddlenecks. (In case you care about such details).

Not on Purpose

Remember in the olden days when we took photos and didn’t see them until our film got developed?

We have gotten used to looking at them instantly, which is great in theory, but what happens when you are outside in the bright sun and cannot see the screen? Cameras rarely have eyeholes, and the ones that do are small, blurry, inadequate, scratched, or just dirty.

Additionally, if you cannot see the screen, you cannot see the controls on the screen. Sometimes this creates accidents.

A little over a week ago after a storm (not the snowstorm), everything was so beautiful that I laid down my paintbrushes and headed out with Trail Guy to see some natural beauty. The wildflowers!!

THEN, without knowing it, I had a camera accident.

How would I know? I couldn’t see the screen. When I put on some glasses and moved into the shade, I realized that the color was absent, so I randomly pushed the controls until color appeared again.

This flowering pear is the first to bloom in the neighborhood (mid-February) and the last to lose its color in the fall (sometimes late November). This photo might have looked okay in black and white.

It took quite a bit of button pushing when I got home to restore the normal settings. I don’t know how it switched to black and white and doubt if I could make it do that again, at least not on purpose.

Now I am going to experiment with something called “colorize” on Photoshop Junior. This is an opportunity to learn.

Schizophrenic Weather

Recently I have been enjoying the green, wildflowers, and daffodils, sharing them with you all.

Wednesday morning, February 23, this was how our yard looked.

I heard a radio announcer say, “The Sierra is celebrating much needed snow”. I’m unsure how a mountain range “celebrates”, but I know we are very very thankful for any and all precipitation here in Three Rivers. Probably in all of California other than the upper north end of our bizarrely diverse state.

It is too dark to photograph snow around here. It only looks great when the sun comes out, but the snow disappears almost immediately.

Trail Guy has such a soft spot for Pippin.

My flowering pear is in bloom at the same time we get snow? THIS is why I love February!

The yard doesn’t look quite as sittable as usual. I’ll just stand—thanks for asking.