A Little Painting on a Big Painting

 

English is a strange language. In the title, the first “painting” is a verb; the second one is a noun. This makes for a fun title, and perhaps it incites a bit of curiosity on the part of you, O Blog Reader.

I painted “Yokohl Oak” in 2020 and showed it in two separate solo gallery shows. People liked it, particular local bike riders, who told me, “Hey, that’s the Bike Tree!” To me it was simply a beautiful oak tree along Yokohl Drive, and I wasn’t even sure I’d be able to recognize it if I drove past it again.

Alas, it didn’t sell. I put it in the 3 other galleries that regularly and steadily sell my work, and it didn’t sell. One astute friend told me it was lacking in my normal amount of detail. Really?? This looks excessively well-detailed to me.

Oh. He meant on the tree itself. It is too smooth for an oak tree. My drawing students agreed when I took it back home for a touch-up. I often run things past them, because they always tell me the truth. Besides, it lets me know if I am teaching them to be discerning, to truly see things accurately.

This got called “The Bike Tree” by a few different people, so I figured I’d just go with that theme.

Then I started adding more texture to the bark on the tree.

After that, I tried to photograph it.

The light was wrong, making shiny spots and making the color wrong. I rotated it multiple ways, cropped it, edited it with the photo program on the laptop, and finally decided it will have to wait to be photographed another time. 

In the meantime, this is the new and improved “Yokohl Oak”, after I did a little painting on this big (24×24″) painting.

P.S. Yokohl is the name of a valley in the foothills just east of Exeter in Tulare County. For awhile, there were big plans to turn the area into a self-contained town, but the combination of local protests and drought shut that down.

If you came here for Mineral King news and are disappointed, you can check the Mineral King website to see if anything new has been posted.

 

Loser to Best

This little painting was a loser because it wasn’t good enough for anyone to part with his hard-earned dollars, despite the fact that my works sells for prices that won’t scare anyone.

It is titled “Tulare County’s Best”, and although it shows what I believe to be the best that our rural Central California county offers, it wasn’t my best work.

It was my best plein air work at the time, because I was new to that style of painting.

But plein air painting isn’t my best work. 

Shut up about “best”!

I repainted it, and here it is, now deserving of its title.

Tulare County’s Best, 8×10″, oil on wrapped canvas, $125

OF COURSE IT LOOKS BETTER IN PERSON.

Painting in Silence

One day we had no internet. This also meant no cell service (because we don’t have cell service at our house the cell phone works off the wifi) and no landline. So no podcasts, just concentrating on the current painting in silence.

 

I remembered my stereo and popped in a CD when I got tired of my loop-di-loop thoughts. Just sat and drew with my paintbrush and listened to music while painting this classic Tulare County scene for the Long Way Off show.

 

New Motivation to Paint

After goofing off for most of the month of May instead of painting and drawing, I found a new motivation to return to the easels: a solo show to prepare for! It’s a long way off, but I want it to be the best work I have ever done. 

An orange grove painting is supposed to be destined for the dining area of my house, but since I hung this painting of Sequoia trees, there isn’t an empty space nagging at me. However, it might be good in the Long Ways Off show, and I’ll need to paint many larger paintings, so it is TIME to go back to work.

This is how it has looked for months. (I cleaned off the spider webs for you.)

Better sky and distant hills first. 

Then I began working my way forward.

 

When I got to that distant curving road, I flipped it over to better focus on the correct shapes.

Finally, I was tired of mosquitoes and my knees hurt, so I sat down to work on the dirt. 

There are still miles to go. I actually took twice as many photos as you see here but deleted every other one so you wouldn’t fall asleep.

Things learned:

  1. Morning light in the painting workshop is better for photographing the work.
  2. Mosquitos are a real hindrance to concentrating. 
  3. After not painting for weeks, my knees hurt after standing a few hours.
  4. With the doors opened for better light, sometimes my photos blow onto my palette.

I wonder how long this new motivation will hold. That show is a long ways off: October 2024. 

 

Better Painting

After I took a plein air (on location) painting workshop, I tried to incorporate some new techniques into my normal studio method of painting. I didn’t like the results, and apparently, no one else did either, because those paintings didn’t sell.

This one in particular was troubling, because I thought the subject matter would overcome any difficulties.

After goofing off for weeks, I decided to warm up to painting by improving this little loser.

Better sky

Better snow

Better distant mountains and hills

Better Painting

 

 

When it is dry, I will scan it so we can all scratch our heads in bewilderment about how I could have ever thought the painting might sell in its earlier state. 

Guess I was blinded by love for the subject matter of Tulare County’s best features.

P.S. I didn’t mess with the orchards or wind machines because they look fine.

 

Six Meanderings

  1. Tulare County roads department is supposed to finish making the lower part of the Mineral King Road passable this week. Whether or not it will be open to the public is not known.
  2. When it is hot, the cats lie on the concrete of the front porch.
  3. Front to back: Pippin, Jackson (whose tail is always up), Tucker.
  4. When the heat backs off a bit, I hope to return to this painting. Yeah, yeah, I could use the swamp cooler, but you may have noticed that I’d rather be gardening. When I actually do work on it, you will get to see some photos.
  5. This place has the most beautiful views of Moro Rock and Alta Peak.
    6. So does this place:

It is good to live in Tulare County this time of year (but remember, you don’t want to move here because often we have terrible air, we are all fat and undereducated, and there is no Trader Joe’s or Whole Foods.)

Why I Almost Fell Asleep

I almost fell asleep at my drawing table one afternoon because:

I got up really early to go walking.

Here is the lower Salt Creek crossing on the BLM land; I turned around here.

It was so beautiful out, not hot yet, and I was moving enough for the mosquitos to not catch me.

There are a few Farewell-to-Spring flowers alongside the road, along with Common Madia, and some Elegant Clarkia. (Just practicing the names so I don’t forget; only the Farewell-to-Spring show in this picture.)

We went to see the river.

Trail Guy and I walked to see the river, which is flowing fast and full.

The March floods took away the measuring stick. Since I didn’t know what those increments actually referred to, I don’t miss it. Yes, feet, but so often the river wasn’t touching the stick at all, and it still had measurable water in it, so go figure. . .

The buckeye are in bloom.

Rocks.

And then we moved a pile of heavy rocks. No photos.

And that’s why I almost fell asleep drawing for fun.

 

 

How I Finished the Oil Painting Commission

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The large oil painting commission has taken quite a bit of thought and time. It feels very important to make it the best I possibly can. This is difficult for a non-perfectionist, whose main drive is to complete projects rather than do things perfectly. However, as a grownup, I am capable of overcoming my natural bent when it is the right thing to do.

I photographed the painting while it was upside down on the easel.

Then I flipped and cropped the photo, enlarged it to fill my computer screen, and studied it.

This is a weird phenomenon, one observed and used by my drawing students and me. Things often look fine until you see a photograph on a phone, camera, or computer screen. Suddenly the flaws appear.

The result of my study session is a red oval around each part that didn’t look quite right.

Then I mixed up the right colors and began making minuscule corrections. My plan was to photograph the corrections for you, but all wet paint was shiny and looked terrible in the photos. So, never mind that plan.

I lifted it off the easel to sign it and saw that the bottom looked terrible.

Then I looked out the painting workshop door and felt happy in spite of the little hitch in my git-along.

 

Here it is on the easel, ready for the official photograph. In spite of looking tiny in this setting, it is way too big for my scanner.

Wait! You haven’t seen the edges yet!

Finally, paint the bottom of the canvas, and the painting is finished. (Still wet)

I think you need to see it in person to truly appreciate this commissioned oil painting of my current favorite scene of Tulare County to paint for the very patient and accommodating Mr. Customer.

 

Lunch on Rocky Hill

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Rocky Hill is private land, in the hands of several people. One of those people is a friend, and she arranged for us to go to the very top. I had asked her if we could have permission to climb it with The Farmer and Hiking Buddy, and she said she has access to the top and can take people, and yes, she would love to take us up. Then Tulare County had a flood.

After things settled down from the flood, we learned of a tour to see the pictographs on Rocky Hill. Our friend was part of the tour, and she suggested that we go to the top for lunch after the tour. You betcha!

Get this: there is a paved road to the very top of this big rocky hill, and by “big” I mean 5 miles in circumference and 3 miles in diameter (not sure where that got measured). Friend has a key, of course, and we loaded up chairs, a table, lunch, and ourselves, and headed up. And up. And up some more. 2.4 miles, specifically.

Friend had laughed to herself when I asked if we could climb it. She later told me she wasn’t having any part of climbing but was happy to drive up with us. 

It was so very very perfect. Very very very perfect. A perfect way to spend the afternoon. Perfection.

Shut up, Central California Artist and show some photographs!

At the base—the hill sloping into the frame on the right is Rocky Hill.

That blue line is the Friant-Kern Canal. The wildflowers are mustard.

This is looking west.

And this is the unparalleled view of the Sierra. (Lots of people say “the sierras”, but it is the Sierra Nevada Mountains; thus “the Sierra” is the correct shortened term. You’re welcome. P.S. My dad taught me that.)

The tiny blue piece of water is actually called “Hamilton Lake”, and only appears in wet years.

The creek in the distance is Yokohl Creek, which did some real damage during the flood. People used to be able to remove sand from beneath the bridge, but some other people made them stop (for very petty reasons). Since then, the sand has piled deeper beneath the bridge and as a result, the creek flows very close to the underside of the bridge, which means debris builds up quickly during high water and then the water finds its way around the bridge, washing out the approach. Water always finds its way. (Ever heard of “unintended consequences”?) 

The cattle were curious, as cattle can be. (Remember this? – scroll down to see)

Friend provided an excellent picnic lunch, so very generous, oh so good.

Through this tree is a black cow fixin’ to deliver a calf soon.

This was the only larkspur we saw.

What a perfect day! Thank you, Friend, for sharing your beautiful piece of Exeter and your heritage with us (and lunch!)

 

A Day on Rocky Hill

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Rocky Hill is on the edge of Exeter, California, in Tulare County, a well-known, well-loved landmark. It is the only convenient non-flat place to walk, run, or bikeride in the area, and there is a perpetual stream of foot and bicycle traffic up the road. The entire hill is private property, so all the activity takes place on the county road that goes over the saddle between Badger Hill and Rocky Hill.

Rocky Hill has many many Indian pictographs (and lest you get your knickers in a twist about “Indians”, the Native Americans I know prefer to be referred to as “Indians”). On the south side of the hill, 30 acres belong to a conservancy, and occasionally there are tours to view the pictographs. We had the privilege of participating in a tour on last Thursday.

Alas, it is forbidden to post photos of the pictographs on the interwebs. So, you get to see some scenery instead.

Rocky Hill is very rocky. It could be called Boulder Hill.

These are not pictographs; they are mortars, so I am showing you. (so there)

This is the fruit of a wild cucumber. The seeds provided the binders for the pigment used to paint on the rocks.

Lichen isn’t paintings so I photographed it.

Clover. I love wildflowers.(Did you know that?)

Boulders.

The view of Moses Mountain distracted me from the paintings.

The Farmer and Trail Guy were good listeners. Or maybe they were wondering when we could go eat lunch. We are not used to traveling in a pack or being told to stay together. Hiking Buddy was there too, along with other people we know and a few we did not.

I liked this view out from one of the caves we entered.

And then it was time for lunch, which was a private party that I’ll tell you about tomorrow.