Central California.
Salvation.
Life as an artist.
A good husband.
Perkins, my last cat.
Family.
Friends.
Health.
Safety.
Knitting.
My blog and blog readers.
Color.
Photography.
Sunlight.
Dark chocolate.
Good books.
THANKFUL!
Learning and Growing
My drawing students really impress me. They sign up for lessons, come for an hour a week, and produce wonderful pencil drawings. Most of them begin knowing nothing. They persist, they do the work, and they learn to draw.
I show them the way, but they do the work and grow in their knowledge and skills. Some of them go to other workshops on the side, like watercolor painting or oil painting, or knitting. They come from a variety of backgrounds, and most have much more formal education and are far more travelled than I am.
Got me to thinking – do I make an effort to grow? Am I working on self-improvement, personal growth, being a life-long-learner?
I don’t take any classes and in fact, I’ve quit many of the classes I’ve tried.
That admission makes me look like a sluggish quitter.
But wait! There’s more!
Currently I am forcing myself through something called the hundred pushup challenge. Really! Weenie-armed, never-done-a-pull-up or a boy push-up, girlie wussy me. Even if I don’t succeed in the 6 week time frame, I will certainly be able to do more than I could before I started!
My great friend in the Seattle area gave me a 6 month subscription to a site called Lumosity. This is a brain training site that claims to be able to improve your abilities in the mental areas of memory, attention, speed, flexibility and problem solving. Over the past several weeks, I have grown mentally in all areas. Or not – perhaps I’m just better at playing the games. Whatever the truth is here, I’m having a great time!
While I paint or draw, I listen to podcasts by Michael Hyatt, Chris LoCurto, and Artists Helping Artists. Okay, sometimes I just listen to music, talk radio, sermons, or talk on the phone, or savor the silence, but often I take the chance to cram more knowledge and wisdom into my brain.
7 years ago I learned to knit.
6 years ago I began learning to oil paint, and a few weeks ago I took a portrait painting workshop.
I’ve learned how to train for long power walks and done a 5K, a 9-miler, 2 1/2 marathons, and a 21-miler. I’ve also learned about Plantar Fasciitis, dang it, and all the various treatments for it, dang it, including acupuncture, which is finally bringing some relief.
I have learned to blog, update my own website, to comment on blogs, to use LinkedIn, Adobe InDesign, Paypal, Pinterest, and Daily Paintworks, all in the past several years. (no smart phone, Twitter or Facebook – gotta draw the line somewhere!)
I LOVE to learn new things, especially things to do. (These are just the ones I remember, because according to Lumosity, my memory is the weakest part of my mind.)
What are you learning? How are you learning it?
Bowlafruit Critique
Last week I showed you this watercolor painting by Jim, who asked me for a critique.
This is what I told him:
“Wow, you are a get-‘er-dun kind of guy! Love the title too. . . (I’m puzzling over what to call my painting of the same scene that isn’t too dumb, obvious and boring)
“Your shapes look great, the textures are convincing and the colors of the fruit are bright.
“3 suggestions for a little better results (just to push it up a level):
“1. If the background part of the reflection is darker than looking out onto the grass (wow, so cumbersome to find words when if we were together I could just point!), then it will have more impact. This is because the contrast will be greater both between the inside and outside of the window, and between the reflections of fruit and background.
“2. Edges of reflections and shadows should be fuzzy EVEN IF they appear sharp in life or in a photo. It helps the viewer know which is real and which is an illusion (bring to mind that poem at the end of Nights in White Satin by the Moody Blues – I loved that song in 8th grade)
“3. I know nothing of watercolor so this might be useless information but here goes. . . the shadows on your lemon and lime look as if you just put black there (could be the monitor, the photo, the airwaves between your town and Three Rivers. . .) When I want a shadow in oil, I mix a darker version of the same color. Often shadows will show in a photo as black, but we have to disregard that visual information and make the color be a real color. (stupid deceptive lying sneaky cheating photos)”
And here is Jim’s reply:
“Thanks so much for your quick response…I understand everything you said, and I appreciate it, especially about the shadows on the fruit. I didn’t know that, so, wow, that’s valuable information. I really thank you, also, for your encouragement. I want to get to the point where I call myself and artist and BELIEVE it.
Blessings, my friend,
Jim
“Oh, and feel absolutely free to use any of my stuff on the blog; that’s the purpose, right? Even throw your suggestions to me on there if you desire. There’s so much we can all learn from each other in this world if we’re honest.”
Jim is smart, nice, funny, hard-working, and talented. (Forget it – he is married!)
Bowlafruit
A man named Jim took drawing lessons from me. His real desire was to learn to paint with watercolor, but he is a very smart guy and knew he needed to hone his drawing skills first. After several private lessons (in which the student learns at an accelerated rate), he was off and running.
Jim saw my photo of the Most Beautiful Fruit Bowl I’ve Ever Seen and asked permission to paint it. I’ve got a strong attachment to all my drawing students, both past and present, and it is my goal to help each one further their art skills. Besides, I was flattered, so of course I said yes.
He sent the painting to me and asked for a critique. That sort of request can be weird between people. If you don’t know the person really well or haven’t established an honest relationship, it can be a real sticky wicket. (No, I have no idea what that expression really means.) Does the asker just want reassurance that his work is good? Does he want suggestions?
It is a very important part of my drawing lessons that we are honest with one another. Your mom and your best friend and your little sister will say “Wow! That is beautiful! You really draw good!” If you overlook their grammar and manage to resist the effort to correct them, you can bask in the praise.
It feels good but it isn’t very helpful. When you are among people who draw, people you trust to be kind while speaking the truth, and you are able to hear the truth without resisting and arguing, you can really improve your art and your skills.
You can learn both from being the critique-er and from being the critique-ee. For that reason, I frequently ask my students to let me have it about my own work, and we all enjoy the process.
Jim and I established that sort of relationship when he took lessons from me, so I felt comfortable telling him the truth about his painting. Here it is for you to see, and next week I will share the conversation we had about it.
Bowlafruit, watercolor, by Jim
Redwoods, Redwoods, Everywhere
I still have a very large commissioned oil painting of redwoods to complete. Redwoods are sequoia gigantea, not to be confused with California redwoods. We grew up calling them “the big trees”, and I had no clue what a privilege it was to live so close. (I might have been a bit of a twit.) I choose to call them Redwoods now because I went to Redwood High School, and although I will skip the upcoming reunion, I have retained enough loyalty to hang onto the name. But, I digress.
The customer liked a similar painting that I made for someone else, which was based on the pencil drawing called “Redwood & Dogwood”.
You can see the drawing, plus a photo of a sequoia on my laptop. The reason the palette is on the floor is because I was kneeling there to work on the lower portion of the tree. You can see the primary colors running across the top of the palette and the redwood colors running down the side.
But wait! There’s more!
Sheesh. This California artist has a thing about redwood trees. On the left is half of the pair of doors to the painting studio. I had to open them because it is sort of dark in there. Then, the swamp cooler had to be on high, so the doors were blowing around.
It’s rough being a California artist in the heat of summer.
Wah.
This is how it looked at the end of the noisy, dark, overheated day of painting. It should dry enough overnight to begin adding the dogwood flowers on top of the redwood tree. I mean layered in front of the tree, not up at the top of the painting. You knew that, right?
Why I Sometimes Don’t Answer the Phone While Painting
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.
September Eleventh
Remember.
What I Listen To While Painting
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.
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?
Only in a Small Town Like Three Rivers
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.
Productive and Pathetic in Wilsonia
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.
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 really really 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.
More tomorrow about my work week in Wilsonia. . .