Sometimes I have the overwhelming need to share some beauty with you that is not of my making. (I hope you know me well enough to not take that sentence as if I believe all my art is beautiful. Gotta stay real and humble here.)
In Bloom
Keep Thinking
Yesterday I told you of some good ideas that came to me while I was organizing my storage shelves. Today I will tell you of two that aren’t complete. They are good ideas in terms of how to spend my time and energy with my art business, but will take more thinking on how to bring them about.
- The Cabins of Wilsonia came out in December of 2014. Many of the 200+ drawings have sold, but many remain available. It is time to offer them at a deep discount, and then shred the remainder. They are doing no one any good in storage. Now I need to figure out how to best reach the people who are most likely to want the drawings. Keep thinking.
- Sequoia Natural History Association used to be the name of the outfit that stocks the ranger stations and visitor centers in Sequoia and Kings Canyon National Parks. The name changed, the director I knew retired, and now I don’t know who to talk to about buying my prints and cards to sell in the Parks. They are doing no one any good in storage. Keep thinking.
Good Ideas
Lately I have preferred to work in silence instead of listening to podcasts, music, or the radio. I seem to need lots of quiet in order to think. I don’t have an agenda; instead, I just let the thoughts roam freely, and sometimes good ideas show up.
When I photograph my paintings on the easel in the painting workshop, I am often appalled by the state of the storage shelves behind the painting. What am I storing? Why is it such a mess? If the things aren’t useful, why I am keeping them?
Last week I went through those shelves, moving things that seldom get used to the upper levels, consolidating things, and evaluating their usefulness. I had some thoughts while doing this task, some new, some old.
- Many of my art supplies and materials have been given to me. This makes me want to give things to other people, to be as generous and helpful to others as people have been to me. A cautionary thought occurred: I should be careful to keep mental boundaries in place, so that I don’t start just handing out my work. Good idea!
- The 4×6″ paintings that I have been doing recently usually are priced at $50. I will be calling them “Show Specials” and offering them for $40 at the Redbud Festival. I’m not splitting with a gallery or a gift shop at that event, so why not? It is fun to offer something new and learn the response. Good idea!
- After making an ordering mistake several years ago, thinking I was getting 12 2×2″ canvases and instead of getting 12 packages of 5 each for a total of 60, it is time to be finished with those. They are hard to paint, because I have to hold them in my left hand, and the opening in the back is much smaller than my fingers are able to squish. So, I will be painting quick Mineral King scenes, and offering them as a Show Special when I do the art show and sale at the Silver City Store this summer. Good idea!
Thoughts on Plein Air Painting
A friend wanted to hear my thoughts on plein air painting, so I wrote to her about it. Several other friends said they hadn’t known what the words meant until I started my detour down that road. (Or maybe it will become my main road. More will be revealed in the fullness of time.)
Plein air means “open air”. (Thank you, Dan!)
There is a snobbery in the art world, an attitude that real artists paint plein air. Studio artists? Meh, anyone can do that. I had a college professor who belittled those of us who signed up for photorealism studio painting; I quit at 1/2 a semester because he didn’t teach what he dismissed as “smoke and mirrors”.
Plein air is difficult for several reasons, including bugs and weather. There are no boundaries to the scene that ultimately will be enclosed by specific borders. Artists have to be able to see and decide what they plan to paint, ignore what they will not paint, and arrange those things in a pleasing manner. In order to “erase” the unnecessary details, they squint so that nothing remains except dark and light masses. When mixing the colors, the artists come up with an average color for various areas. They simplify textures, and memorize light when it appears in order to put it in at the end. And, it is assumed that a plein air painter will finish the painting “alla prima”, which means in one session.
An aside about the art world: why the extra languages? Plein air is French; alla prima is Italian. Go figure.
In order to finish something alla prima, one has to work very quickly and finish an entire painting within 3-4 hours. Artists who are honest will tell you that many paintings are finished in the studio later. This is possible even without photos, because very little is done with tight detail. The proportions are usually in place, so it is probably just values (the darks and lights) and color correcting that happens later.
The art world loves to throw around the term “painterly”, which I have concluded simply means “messy”. Since I was 8 years old, I have worked hard to see details, to have distinct, clear edges to things, and I find it completely counterintuitive to purposely blur things. But, I am willing to learn, to try, to improve (but how will I know if I have improved or if I have added more details than are allowed?)
Painting plein air is a great skill for several reasons:
- Sometimes I need to paint quickly.
- There are many people who like the softer, blurrier paintings that lack detail but focus on shapes and colors.
- I live part time in a National Park, where being able to paint quickly could be a great business opportunity.
Since taking the 3 day workshop in Georgia 2 weeks ago, I have been able to produce many paintings. (I haven’t shown them all to you.)
So, my conclusion is that the skills are very valuable and that I will practice them: painting quickly, focusing on good composition and correct colors (not entirely perfect, just colors that look right together in a scene). Some of this will be done while looking at a scene in person; some of it will be done looking at photos. I won’t be able to paint like Laurel Daniel, but I can paint more simply than I have in the recent past and still add enough details to retain my own “voice” (and some dignity).
What I Learned in April
The summary of what I learned in April doesn’t seem to fit my normal end of month list. A paragraph will suffice.
In April I learned how to plein air paint. I also learned to use a cell phone, how to navigate the world of travel that is now dependent on cell phone ownership, usage, and competency, and that a green lizard in Georgia is actually called an “anole”. I learned that a small cat can have 5 kittens, that a cat with a stump of a tail can have tailed cats, stumpies, and rumpies. (We don’t know yet if the “rumpie” is healthy. Stay tuned.)
So, here is a beautiful and dramatic photo for you (because it was a beautiful and dramatic month) and tomorrow we will resume our adventures in plein air painting.
Final Plein Air Painting Day in Georgia
So many things to choose from for my final plein air painting.
And that’s all, folks. Suddenly, the carriage turned into a pumpkin. I told Laurel that the entire experience was so perfect that I’d think it was just a dream if I wasn’t sweating so much in the humidity.
So, back to the host and hostess’s home in Brunswick, rearrange all my supplies to pack for flying, say a quick good-bye (like ripping off a bandaid), hit the road for a silent drive back to Jacksonville (since I never did figure out the fancy radio), return the car, oops, go back to gas up the car (less than $3/gallon in Florida when it is over $4 now in Calif.), get a ride to the hotel, find some dinner (grits! because I was in the south), fall into bed for a 4 a.m. wake-up call. “Pumpkin”? More like a squash.
It was a fabulous adventure, a time of new sights, learning, friendships, challenges, new wildflowers, and, umm, sweating.
Sightseeing in Georgia
After class on day 2 and before class on day 3, I went driving around, looking for things, taking in all the sights. I love exploring!
The next morning I drove through the Victorian neighborhood of Brunswick, just being a looky-loo. It isn’t often I get to see such fabulous houses or such a variety of architecture, so I was definitely gawking.
Learned in March
It is possible that I didn’t learn much in March. Perhaps I spent too much time on hold with both Huge & Rude and Small & Bumbling. But now we have faster internet, so that’s a good thing.
- FWIW means For What It’s Worth. (Thank you, SD!)
- Donald Miller has a podcast and is a delight to listen to. I’ve always liked his writing (Blue Like Jazz, Searching for God Knows What, A Million Miles in a Thousand Years, Scary Close), and now he has a business called Storybrand, where he helps people market their products by telling their stories.
- I figured out a new tool for teaching people to draw. (Why did it take 25 years? I didn’t have the tech skills and equipment until a few years ago – there’s one excuse.)
- One of my new students taught me a little trick for seeing things when you don’t have your cheater magnifying glasses. Make a mini telescope with your fist, put it to your best eye, and look through it at the thing you are trying to read. It helps a little.
- I relearned that everything is harder than one expects it to be. We have Spectrum, finally, sort of. It took 5 days of visits by 6 different installers, and another visit by some sort of technician (or more–I’ve lost track). I still have no phone in the studio, but finally bought enough gizmos to bounce the internet signal to the outbuildings. The sales boy sold this to us on February 7, and now it is April 1. Am I a fool? Nope, but I’ve been fooled by Small & Bumbling into thinking the switchover would be easy.
- Posts about walks I take garner more comments than posts about drying paint (unless it is the progress of a mural).
- Getting a new book is fun fun fun! (I already knew that, but just wanted to push Mineral King Wildflowers a little bit.)
Heart Rock Walk
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.
Learned in February
Did I learn anything in February of this year?
Maybe.
- Spectrum is giving Huge & Rude a run for their money. We want to switch: landlines, television, internet. As with everything, it is easy-peasy when you talk to a salesman but muy complicated in reality. So far, we are still with Huge & Rude, and our phones have been out multiple times in 2019. Plus, the internet is too slow to send my wildflower book to the printer.
- Books are never quick. Mineral King Wildflowers: Common Names is supposed to be in hand for an April 27 signing. No matter how many times I proof or pass it to someone else to proof, another error gets found. And it got bid as a black and white book instead of a full color one – ouch.
- Parkas aren’t waterproof – nylon, goretex, nope. 4 different ones within the past 32 years. Polyester might be waterproof. Probably not. My walking buddy and I have had lots of opportunities to test various parkas during February.
- Seaglass is getting harder to find and the pieces are smaller. This decline in availability will continue. I learned this from reading The Ultimate Guide to Sea Glass by Mary Beth Beuke.
- In order to better publicize a book, authors should have a website (oh-oh, my books are hitch-hiking along with my art sites) with a media kit. It took almost an entire day to write all the little parts and pieces required for this, but now I have one on my other website, The Cabins of Wilsonia. This is all required in order to be considered to make a presentation to the Fresno County Friends of the Library about my book The Cabins of Wilsonia. Yeppers, I have a Media Kit page on that site, which will serve as a model for Mineral King Wildflowers.
- I am a Questioner. This is how I learn. Here is a question: Who wants to go from Bakersfield to Merced, or the reverse direction? That’s what California’s infamous bullet train is now reduced to. I will probably ride it, if they allow 100 year olds on.
- Did you know that corn will kill us? I got snagged into one of those click-bait websites with the line of “which vegetable do you need to stop eating immediately?” Then the dude talked forever about his various credentials before finally saying it was corn. Sure, Mr., thanks. I saved you the temptation of following that link and waiting to hear which vegetable will kill you. You’re welcome.
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.
I know nothing except that cow poo is very slippery.
And thus we conclude another February, a month that I find way too short here in Central California.