If you call my studio during work hours on a work day, often you will get the answering machine. You might be thinking, “That flaky artist doesn’t work much!”
Au contraire!
Sometimes I just can’t get to the phone.
The phone is on the far left of the photo, atop the filing cabinet, and requires that I put down my paintbrush from my left hand, take the one out of my mouth, put down the one I am using, and climb over the cords to the speakers and to the laptop. Ain’t happenin’. Sorry.
When it is hot, I can’t even hear the phone over the swamp cooler on high and the music coming from the laptop. Sorry.
This is what it looks like while I am painting a large commission. I’ll show you more about it tomorrow.
Being an artist at a private home studio can be a silent and solitary profession. Sometimes I embrace the solitude. (Ever notice how the word “embrace” gets overused these days??) Sometimes I trap the UPS driver into seeing my work and hearing about it, because I haven’t talked to a soul all day long. I’ve tried making phone calls using the speaker-phone so I can paint while talking. The recipient of the call says “What?” so much that I’ve decided that is just not a viable way to multi-task.
This oil painting of tulip fields (still unnamed) heard a lot of music, podcasts and sermons.
Lots of times I use the painting time to listen to good stuff using my laptop and Bose speakers. (What a wonderful addition to a laptop for $100 – GREAT sound!!)
Here are a few of my favorite listening sites:
Artists Helping Artists is very very interesting, especially if you are an artist. (Thank you, Captain Obvious!) Leslie Saeta from Pasadena, California, is a working artist who used to be in marketing. She has a weekly podcast on Blogtalk Radio in which she interviews working artists and shares marketing tips. She is very upbeat, high energy, giggly and encouraging.
my pastor, Alex Garcia from the Three Rivers First Baptist Church. I listen because I miss a lot of Sundays in the summer, and I listen because I learn so much from Alex.
Michael Hyatt is one of my favorite bloggers. He is an “a-may-zing” guy, and I have learned so much from him about business, writing, getting published, blogging, leadership (as if anyone is actually following me!), marketing, and personal development. He has a great podcast once a week.
Chris LoCurto is another of my favorite bloggers. (I’ve guest posted for him 3 times.) He does a podcast about every 2 weeks, interviewing some very great business people like the head of Zappo’s, Tony Dungy, the head of Tractor Supply Co. and a number of business authors.
I Heart Radio is a new website that my sister. Melinda, told me about. (She has always been ahead of me when it comes to cool stuff.) You type in a favorite song or singer or group, and it creates a personal radio station for you based on your choice. First I put in Toto (remember them from the late ’70s or early ’80s?) and now I can listen to “Toto Radio” – it really surprised me how many groups from that time sang with very tight harmonies (like Little River Band, or even the Eagles.) Then I put in Casting Crowns, and got to hear new songs by old favorites and old songs by new singers. Then I had them make Steve Wariner Radio for me – he is my Absolute Favorite Male Voice of All Time. (Yes, he is Country – so what??)
There are other things I listen to, but this post is just getting too long. Besides, I probably disgusted half of you by admitting that I listen to Country music, and annoyed the other half by saying I like to listen to my pastor’s sermons!
If you are still here after all that annoyance, will you tell me what you like to listen to?
Last week I experienced some things that only happen when one lives in a small town. Three Rivers in Central California qualifies as a small town, with a population around 2600, and many of whom are weekenders.
(The Kaweah Post Office in this pencil drawing isn’t my post office, but it isn’t very far from home.)
As I passed South Fork Drive, a car pulled across my lane onto the highway going the opposite direction. I almost locked up my brakes to avoid him, but there was no audible squeal. He didn’t seem to notice anything amiss.
At my next stop, my very good friend pulled into the lot behind me and said, “I saw that! Are you okay??” Wow, what what a thoughtful friend she is! I was fine, and was especially touched by her kindness.
She told me who the driver was, and we both were a bit a worried and puzzled as to his behavior. We speculated about his state of mind and hoped he was shaken awake.
Back at the studio, I ripped into my mail. It included a bank statement, and I was astonished to see that I’d taken a trip to the coast. My first thought was “OH NO! Identity theft!” Then I had the presence of mind to read the top of the statement. Aha! It belonged to someone else.
I grabbed the phone book and called her. She was home, so I jumped back in the car and zipped over to her house. And, I apologized for reading her business, but hoped she had a great time over at the coast.
Where else but in a small town would you know the one whose mail you received by accident, know where she lives, and just run it over to her?
And, where else would you understand that the more experience postal clerk has hand trouble, so she switched places with the other clerk who isn’t quite as experienced with loading up the P.O. boxes?
P.S. I noticed that this is full of exuberance – “ripped into my mail”, “grabbed the phone book”, “jumped into the car” – may you all be blessed with such energy as fall arrives.
I spent a very productive week at a cabin in Wilsonia, a private community within Kings Canyon National Park. The idea was to talk to lots of people, to learn and write down their stories, impressions, memories and thoughts on cabin life there. I was fairly certain that I had all the photos I needed and that the design of the book, The Cabins of Wilsonia, was almost cast in stone.
Not the cabin where I stayed, but a very visually appealing cabin in Wilsonia that I keep photographing over and over and over. . .
But. . .
. . . While there, I finally had the opportunity to work uninterrupted on the book. (When I’m in my own studio, there is so much painting to do that the non-urgent business of the book collects dust. I want to work on the book, I reallyreally like working on the book, I wish I could just work on the book every day! Okay, I think you believe me now.)
Redesign: Each day I walked through Wilsonia with my camera and continued to photograph things for a second and third time. OF COURSE I kept finding new things to photograph.This meant I needed to re-evalutate which were the best choices for each street, and continually redesign each section.
Rebalance: I began to realize that there was an imbalance. How many pages have I allotted to each street? (called “Lanes” in Wilsonian) How many cabins are there on each Lane? Had I given the most populated streets the greatest number of pages? This took quite awhile to discern and then to redesign.
Quote Gathering: In addition to the photography and redesign, there were many conversations with people, which was the point of the visit. It is interesting that folks assume I am compiling the history of Wilsonia. Their first response to knowing that I’d like to include quotes from the cabin community is to give me a list of previous owners of their cabins!
This is most likely due to my own inept interviewing and inadequate explanations. I’m an artist, not O’Reilly. (It probably isn’t a good idea to bark at them, “This is a no-spin zone!”) I’m now realizing that gathering quotes will take a long time, lots of conversations, lots of getting to know people gradually. When Jane Coughran and I did The Cabins of Mineral King in 1998, we simply sent forms in the mail requesting stories, and magically, they got filled out and returned. Doesn’t work that way any more.
Eating an elephant: It is time to face the fact that this book is going to take at least 2 more years to get to publication.
That’s not the pathetic part. I’ll tell you that part tomorrow.
Usually I begin a blog post with a relevant photo. There must be a reason it seems relevant, so I ponder why you might want to see it.
Attention to detail not only makes better blog posts, it makes for good pencil drawings. This is one of the cabins of Wilsonia from my upcoming book “The Cabins of Wilsonia”.
The thoughts begin flowing, and boy of boy, I LOVE to type because the words can keep up with my thoughts. I type fast, I make mistakes, but they are easily corrected. (Got fired from a typing job once – still smarts.)
After the thoughts are recorded, I reread them for flow and understanding. If anything makes me hesitate or wonder what I meant, or if it could mean two things, then it gets changed.
Next, I remove unnecessary words, such as beginning a sentence with “So”, which is a current speaking trend that I hope to avoid. (Has anyone else noticed this?) I also remove sentences after asking myself, “Does anyone care?” (if the answer is NO!)
Sometimes I think about SEO. That means Search Engine Optimization, which means using certain words in certain ways so that Mr. Google can find me (for certain).
Then I check for typographical and grammatical errors. Typos make me twitch. They jump out of other people’s blogs, out of menus, library books, the newspaper, signs, and anything with the written word. Websites with typos do not look trustworthy . . . nosirree, if that company can’t even make their website correct, then they won’t care about my order.
Finally, I do all the technical stuff like putting in key words and tags (geeky stuff), filling in the SEO all-in-one-pack (more geeky stuff) checking categories, and finally, I schedule the post.
Now that you know my routine, you can join me in wondering “Does anyone care about this blog post?”
Maybe they don’t explain these things because they don’t know. Maybe they don’t explain because there are too many conflicting opinions. Maybe they don’t want new painters to know the secret information. Maybe they think that no one cares, or everybody already knows.
Whatever the reason, there are many things I’ve wondered about in the past 6 years of oil painting.
1. Why is the word “medium” used to mean so many things?
It can mean that your painting is neither small nor large.
It can mean the stuff you are using to make your painting. “What medium do you use?” “Thanks for asking [see how polite artists can be?], I use oil”.
Finally, it can mean the stuff you use to mix with oil paint to make it flow better. “What medium do you use?” “Good question – I prefer linseed oil”.
2. Why are you supposed to use expensive artist’s linseed oil instead of a big can from the hardware store? Let me guess – it is a plot to keep art supply companies in business.
3. Does anyone truly wait an entire year before varnishing a painting? I’m not making this up – it is what the books and websites and varnish cans advise. A YEAR?! The customer wants the painting now – you think he’s going to mail it back to me from Illinois in a year so I can varnish it??
4. What are you supposed to do when your box cutter slips as you are unwrapping a new unpainted canvas and it cuts a hole in the canvas? I asked Mr. Google and came up with multiple answers from just do an easy patch to NEVER TRY THIS AT HOME!
We used to write to people to ask them for answers to questions before Mr. Google came along.
Because I just began year 5 of blogging, I decided to repost some of my earlier blogs for my newer readers.
When my art studio was in Exeter and I lived in Lemon Cove, people assumed I lived in Three Rivers. I’m guessing this was because of my occupation of pencil artist. (Given the choices of of towns in Tulare County, this is a reasonable assumption.) Now that I actually do live here and have become a painter, I recognize a multitude of reasons that any artist would want to reside in Three Rivers.
We are surrounded by beauty that takes no effort to see. There are incomparable views from my yard, studio, mailbox, and even from in my neighbor’s pool. The beauty continues as we go to the post office, the Memorial Building, the golf course, or maybe even from the dentist’s office!
Then there is the beauty that might require a little more effort to take in: the North Fork, the South Fork, Kaweah River Drive, and the Salt Creek area of BLM land come to mind. If you are able to walk, there is so much more that becomes visible.
Another great enticement to living in Three Rivers is the shorter drive to Sequoia and to Mineral King. In less than an hour you can be among the big trees and in a little longer than an hour, you can be in a valley that I have heard resembles the Swiss Alps.
Everywhere I look there are subjects to paint. The wildflowers could keep my brush flying for several seasons. The gates alone could occupy my pencils for a year. I could produce an entire series of drawings and paintings simply of loading chutes. Curves in the road, bends in the river, the autumn leaves, light on the rocks, Moro Rock from every possible angle, Alta Peak from every attainable viewpoint, sycamores all around town, the grand oak trees of every variety, the assortment of fence styles – every one of these subjects could be depicted in pencil or paint.
It is true that there is beauty in almost any location if one learns to recognize it. I certainly had plenty of subjects available in my former locations. Now, the accessibility of paintable scenes is almost overwhelming!
The Kaweah Post Office V, oil on wrapped canvas, sold
Today, April 16, I begin year #5 of blogging. There are many reasons that I blog. Since lists float my boat, here is the list for you:
1. It is fun. Remember Show-and-Tell in grammar school? For some kids it was a chore (and a chore for the rest of us to listen). For others, it was the highlight of their day. I tried to only participate if there was something I was really excited about. That is how I feel about blogging. Every day!
2. It keeps me accountable. Ever tried to work alone, day after day, week after week for 19 years? How did that turn out? Unh-hunh. You HAVE to show someone. You HAVE to tell someone your progress. (Pity my UPS driver and the mailman!) The blog takes out some of the party-of-one-ness and forces me to produce even when the distractions are oh so very inviting.
3. It gives my work credibility. Published, even if it is online and even if it is self-published, is public. If it is worth putting Out There, it is Real. It counts. (Remember Steve Martin getting all excited about seeing his name in the phone book? It is sort of like that.)
4. It provides a record of my work. (No, I don’t want to keep a journal. The more stuff I own, the more stuff I lose.)
5. It allows me to connect with those who like my work. They can tell me what they think, and I can learn from them. “They”? Who is this “they”? It is YOU!
6. It is a bit like an online brochure, continually being updated, always available. That is a business thing, or perhaps a marketing thing.
7. I am building a platform. Doesn’t that sound fun? No hammer and nails required. It has to do with developing followers so that when I have something to share, there are people to participate.
That is why I blog. I’d love to hear why you read it. Not so I can gather compliments, but so I can learn what is interesting to you and what I should skip!
Completed pencil drawing for upcoming book The Cabins of Wilsonia
When do the husbands of California artists retire? How about after 37 years with Sequoia National Park. That’s a lot of years of getting up at dark-thirty, putting on green pants, driving miles on mountain roads in his own pick-em-up-truck (called his “rig”), and then driving big yellow machines. Faithfully going to work. Faithfully serving the public. Faithfully supporting his California artist wife. Persevering, persisting, day after day and month after month and storm after storm.
When does Michael The Road Guy retire? TODAY!! (Not officially because he works for the federal government and everything with those people is very complicated but don’t get me started because this blog post is about Michael The Road Guy, not those people.)
Impressive, yes? (thank you John Elliott of the Kaweah Commonwealth for this photo and the next)
I am not kidding about the miles on his rig. This was last year.
Doesn’t he look tired?
Thinking with a marshmallow on your head is really hard work. And working when you’d rather be hiking takes a tremendous amount of discipline.
One with the Stream, oil on wrapped canvas, 24×30″
Congratulations, Michael Botkin! No more dark-thirty, green pants, marshmallow head or big yellow machines!
