Still More Painting in Church

After having the audacity to mess with someone else’s art, I returned to the endless mural at my church. (It would be a real blessing if someone else messed with this one for me.) This blank right side needed to be finished. 

Weird color because the big stage spotlights are on.

I started by defining and filling in the different segments from farthest away to closer (called “planes”, which is a word you might recall from geometry.) Boulders seemed like a good solution. It is better if the two “wings” aren’t symmetrical, which means that they don’t mimic one another. That wouldn’t look natural, as if it is natural to have a giant mural of a fake Sequoia meadow on the stage of a church. (I love Three Rivers, with all our original authentic uniqueness. Sometimes it seems as if we use our location as permission to be mavericks.)

I found a different setting on my camera to show the colors more true. After 5 hours, I dropped off into Idiotland, where I began to get sloppy and stupid. It isn’t good to get sloppy in a place with carpet and painted areas that have no touch-up paint available.

Am I finished?

Maybe, maybe not.

It will probably take a month or two of Sundays before I decide. 

Maybe I just won’t sit where I can see this, and then I won’t pick it apart. It looks fine from this angle.

So there.

I mean “Amen”.

P.S. The drummer gave me a wonderful compliment about the mural extensions. He said they looked so right, so perfectly continued from the rest of the mural that he didn’t notice that they were there.

 

 

Quick Quick, Can You Help Us?

The Mineral King Preservation Society has 2/3 of a room at the Three Rivers Historical Museum. We call it The Mineral King Room, in spite of sharing it with another exhibit. 

A few years ago I painted some murals in that room.

Recently, the room started getting a facelift, or perhaps “makeover” is a better word. I was at the museum for something, went in the Mineral King Room, and saw the beginnings. My first thought was that it was colorful and spiffy looking; my second thought was that the blue didn’t match the sky in the murals, and my third thought was that the supposed Mineral King peaks did not look like Mineral King.

Several weeks later, another Mineral King person stopped by and said, “That color of blue is doesn’t look like a Mineral King color, and I don’t recognize those peaks.”

Thus, I got a phone call, asking if I could change the color of blue and fix the line of mountains.

Aren’t you just dying to see what I am talking about?

An incidental thought about that blue: it is a great color, kind of a turquoise or teal, something I have quite a bit of in my wardrobe. It just doesn’t happen to match a sky in Mineral King. It might look better with the rust than the sky blue, but reality has to take precedence.

Painting in Church, Again, Chapter Three

After leaving this unfinished mural extension, I returned, rested and ready to complete this little section.

Branches to the left of the door are now mostly completed.

Better now. There were a couple of parts that looked wrong. I also messed with the trees, ground and background.

Now this side might be finished. 

If you sit out here:

You will see this (the parts that aren’t hidden behind musicians):

Next week, I will tackle this side (Lord willing, the Creek, etc. . .):

For now, this concludes a peek into my little church in Three Rivers. 

Painting in Church, Again, Chapter Two

Yesterday’s “Painting in Church” post ended with Music Man turning on the stage lights for me. He also said it was as if I had read his mind in how the mural extension should look, and he had a suggestion for extending the ridges that was altogether excellent.

I felt a little bit stuck. Maybe a few branches extending to the left of the door are in order.

This is hard. I don’t know what I am doing.

That’s it for Day One. I was getting sloppy and stupid, a dangerous state, particularly when combined with having slept poorly the night before, skipping lunch and being a little bit lazy.

I really thought I could do the left side in one morning and the right side in a second morning?

Fall down laughing.

Tune in tomorrow. . .

Painting in Church, Again, Chapter One

In 2015 I painted a mural at the front of my church, inside the sanctuary. (in Three Rivers)

Two years later, I added snow covered mountains in the distance.

Yesterday, I began adding to the left side, thinking a few trees would do the trick.

First I studied the wall, then I added 2 lines where I thought it needed trees.

Inadequate. It needs more trees and some ground so the trees aren’t just floating, or sprouting out of the carpet.

Wholly inadequate. The meadow needs to be extended.

The Music Man came by and turned on the stage lights for me. This showed me that I didn’t know what I was doing, and it was too dark to mix the greens correctly. Should have had lunch. Wish I’d slept better the night before.  

I thought I’d do the left side one day, the right side a second day.

Fall down laughing.

Come back tomorrow to see the progress once the stage lights were on.

Little Do-Over

This little 4×6″ oil painting has been around for a few years. I thought it was quite charming, but apparently I was alone in my opinion.

A friend is leaving Three Rivers, so I gave the painting a do-over to give to her.

If it looks familiar, it is because it is the fourth time I have painted this scene.

I don’t remember the order in which I painted them. And here is my normal disclaimer: they ALWAYS look better in person.

I will miss my friend. She will miss her river in real, but at least will have this little painting.

A Busy Weekend

Redbud in 2019

Last weekend began with setting up the for the Redbud Festival on Friday, taking photographs of how everything fit together, then packing all the merchandise into boxes and moving it inside the Memorial Building for the night.

On Saturday morning, I went to a memorial service for the father of a dear friend. It was a bit of a reunion, but instead of hanging around with old pals, I jetted off to Arts Visalia to teach a drawing workshop.

I was sort of hoping that no one would sign up so that I could just hang around with my old buddies, but a few days before, 4 people signed up. When I arrived at the gallery, I learned there were 6 participants. Then I learned that the drawing pencils were no longer in the closet in the workshop room. Well, oops.

So, the gallery director got a short list together, disappeared for about 45 minutes, and reappeared with some drawing pencils. We made do with the other supplies I had brought along, and the class of 6 was a compatible, enjoyable, personable group who did very well!

Redbud, indoor booth in 2017

Meanwhile, some friends were working our shared booth at the Redbud Festival. The show organizer called me at the end of the drawing workshop to ask if I was okay with leaving all my merchandise outside overnight underneath the patio overhang where we were situated. I thought that the overnight security sounded secure, so I agreed. That way my friends wouldn’t have to take it down, pack it up and schlep it all inside, nor would I need to reverse the process on Sunday morning.

This is how it looked before the beautiful slab furniture, felted purses, knitted hats, and tie-dyed baby clothes were added. The tables looked great sitting beneath the paintings, and the colorful fabric items were on a table to the left.

Redbud Festival hasn’t happened for 2 years, and this year it was organized at the last minute. We no longer have a newspaper in town, and there are so many methods of communication that it is a wonder anyone can learn anything at all. As a result, there weren’t many vendors, and not many visitors, but this allows for longer conversations with the visitors and opportunities to get to know the other vendors a bit more than usual.

I walked to the Memorial Building on Sunday morning and learned that sales were steady on Saturday. Sales were slower on Sunday, but also steady. The number of packages of cards that sold was astonishing, particularly since they are now $10 a package. I joked that next year I will just rent one square foot and bring my card spinner. Yes, paintings sold, but they require the screens, which makes the set-up and break-down quite time-consuming, and I get a little bit older every year. (Thank you, Captain Obvious.)

Breaking down the show was the easiest it has ever been. Because we were on the patio, I simply lifted everything up to the driveway, with the Botmobile very close at hand and Trail Guy there to use his master packing skills.

The screens almost blew over on Saturday. Someone had some rope and tied the whole apparatus to the vertical pole. 

Now, I need to get some new paintings done to sell at Silver City Resort. Chopchop!

She Loves Flowers, Chapter Two

After obsessing over the wildflowers on the hillside behind my house, I headed to the painting workshop to paint some of my own wildflowers.

But wait! There are other flowers in bloom in the yard, and they also deserve attention. I picked some Lemon Geranium to put in a vase near my work station, because it keeps mosquitos away. (in theory)

Wait! I can’t work on that piece today. It doesn’t have the tight deadline that the Redbud Festival is pressurizing me with. IT IS TOMORROW, 10-5 at the Three Rivers Memorial Building and SUNDAY, 10-4.

Get to work, Central California artist! Chopchop.

I love this view of Franklin Creek, at the upper crossing, below the dam.

Mineral King Wildflowers, 6×18″, oil on wrapped canvas, $165 (plus that pesky California sales tax).

Then I finished this 6×6″ poppy. 

I have more finished little paintings for the Redbud Festival but you might have to go to the show to see them.

Maybe I’ll show you those other flowers in the yard on Monday’s post. Or maybe I will tell you that I sold everything at the Redbud Festival. Or maybe nothing will have sold and I will invite you to a bonfire.

JUST KIDDING!

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.

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.