Trip-toe Through The Tulips

Sorry. That was just dumb. Sometimes I am just a real chucklehead. Honestly, I will try to come up with an appropriate title for this triptych, one worthy of the beauty of the scene.

tulip oil Painting by Jana Botkin

tulip oil painting by jana botkin

tulip oil painting by jana botkin

Once again I ask, “WHY is a California artist painting the tulips fields of Washington?”

Because:

1. They are beautiful

2. I love them

3. It is my hope to one day have a show called “Going Places” and finally paint and show work from my (somewhat limited) travels. I take many many photos, want to paint them, and wonder how to find a market for those subjects. Perhaps putting them all together in a show would really make a great visual impact. (Perhaps it would look like a mess of unrelated images. Maybe I’d even get arrested for visual assault.)

Meanwhile, I will continue to slowly build up my collection of non-central-valley art.

Do you think a show of China, Washington DC, Washington state, North Carolina, Oregon, and Lake Tahoe would look like a mess?

Orange You Glad I Can Paint Citrus?

Tulare County grows, sells and eats a ton of citrus. Probably several million tons. I learned to oil paint by using the subject of oranges over and over and over. When an orange would sell, I’d paint another. The last one was #103, I think. There were also a handful that I didn’t title or number in the beginning, so who really knows?

 oil paintings of tangerines and lemons photo by Jana Botkin

Tangerines and Lemons

A few years ago I was at some art thing with my dear friend D. I introduced her to another friend, one who sells ag real estate. D said, “Oh my goodness, you should be buying Jana’s orange paintings to give to your clients!” (She has been a great supporter and encourager to me in the 13 years we’ve been friends, always looking for ways to promote my work.)

Mr. Real Estate said, “That’s a great idea!” Now he and his partner have placed 3 or 4 orders for 6×6 and 8×10 paintings of citrus since then – mostly navel oranges, and some tangerines/mandarins/Clementines and some lemons. It is fun to do these – bright, simple, not too difficult. (I am THRILLED to paint simple things after Put-My-Parents-In-The Painting, THRILLED, I say.)

What else would you expect from a central California artist, daughter, granddaughter and niece of citrus farmers?

Timber Gap, Mineral King

Remember I said that Fridays are for Mineral King? If you don’t care about this place in the Southern Sierra, in Sequoia National Park, you can skip Fridays on my blog. If you only care about Mineral King and don’t give a rodent’s hiney about my art, you can skip Monday through Thursday on my blog. Okay, now everyone knows what is what, so let’s get to Timber Gap. (And welcome to my blog, you 2 hearty hikers from NY – hope you made your plane!)

It looks like this from the Mineral King valley:

A “gap” is a low spot in a ridge of mountains, a place that is the most sensible for crossing over. Sometimes it is called a “pass”.

To get there, you must endure a very steep 1/2 mile of trail with steps (“trail checks”) sized for giraffey people. It is hot, dusty, difficult. Suck it up, no whining, put one foot in front of the other, remember to breathe (if you can), and just get it over with.

There are fine views of the valley if you can focus through your huffy-puffiness:

The trail flattens out and then you are faced with a choice.

You may recall the last time I was on this trail was back in January.

There is more climbing through the groups of trees below and to the right of  Timber Gap. This is where a tram used to run, bringing ore down to the stamp mill from the mines on Empire. Here is the remains of the tram tender’s cabin near the top of that second group of trees.

Shortly after breaking out of the trees, you cross a very small stream. If you look up, you can see where the mines were. They are still there, but didn’t produce so are simply interesting historical sites if you feel like scrambling up to see them. I didn’t.

Then you are on a wide open slope that can have great flowers. Probably won’t be great this year. In fact, this year is looking a bit weird. There was a swatch of wild blue flax that usually doesn’t appear until August!

After you’ve finished skipping and singing “The Hills Are Alive”, there is more climbing to do. The top of Timber Gap is about 9600′ (or is it 9700′ or 9800′?) and you must earn it. Here is the view over to the other side.

All the landmarks I might recognize from living in Three Rivers are too far to the left to see. Just saying, in case you were curious like I am about where Moro Rock and Alta Peak are!

Mineral King is a source of much inspiration to me. That is why Fridays are devoted to the subject on a blog that is supposed to be about a California artist.

Across The Fruited Plain

Is the Central Valley of California technically “the fruited plain”? Not exactly sure. It has been called “the land of fruit and nuts”. Take that anyway you would like. As the California artist daughter of a farmer, I take it in a literal sense.

 

The business of art requires thought and planning. If a place with a changing clientele sells a particular subject on a consistent basis, it is common sense to paint more of the same.

Here is a peek into the painting workshop. It’s kinda fruity in there.

The smalls are for Colors in Three Rivers. I’ll tell you about the larger painting of the persimmon tomorrow.

Do you think it is weird to paint the same stuff over and over again?


Definitely a Summer of Animals

This is definitely shaping up to be a summer of animals in Three Rivers and in Mineral King.

I’ve been asked more than once why I don’t paint animals. The answer is that I don’t have good photos from which to paint. It is unethical and illegal to paint from other people’s photos without their permission, so I don’t use National Geographic or calendars or even google images.  My own photos of animals rarely turn out well, and not in enough abundance to produce more than an occasional painting. And my understanding of animals (other than my cats) is limited.

Just as authors are exhorted to write what they know, artists should also paint what they know. Why? Because if you don’t know your subject, someone else will, and they will know that you don’t know it. The business of art means knowing things like this.

Authenticity is a driving force for me, and painting unfamiliar subjects make me twitch with stress about being exposed as a poser.

Back to the animals. The next door neighbors called on Sunday to ask Trail Guy (AKA Retired Road Guy) to dispatch a Snake. It was their first Snake in 9 years. Most of the Snakes come to our address. (Snake spelled with a capital S is explained here.) I’ll spare you the gory details. Suffice it to say that Trail Guy is a neighborhood hero.

And, on Monday I witnessed this in my front yard.

This is the patriarch of a flock with 12 little turkeys. Yes, I counted!

Sometimes I gobble at them. I think the last time I did that was on a walk, and I didn’t see the AT&T guy up ahead. He might have asked for a transfer to another area shortly afterward. Lost that walking partner too.

What wild animals do you have in your daily life? This rural California artist likes to hear how normal, non-gobbling folks live. 

Whatcha Working on Now, California Artist?

So glad you asked that question! Here is a peek into the current status of Put My Parents In The Painting. (I’m twitching slightly from the effort and the stress, but it’s nothing a few rows of knitting can’t cure.)

Mother’s face barely shows on the photo. I tried to see some particulars under a magnifying glass. Even tried painting under that same magnifier. All I can tell you is “don’t try this at home!”

Father’s face has no detail at all in the photo. I’m beginning to steel myself for painting them both out after Mr. Put-My-Parents-In-The-Painting sees it and his face falls to the floor in dismay. (more knitting as stress reliever ahead)

In other news, I have another odd job.

This is how I define those unusual painting or drawing requests that pop up from time to time, simply because I am an established artist who answers her phone and email and shows up and does the work on time. You can see some of those jobs here, here, here, here, here, here and here too.

The customer/collector/client (How would you like me to refer to you??) sent me an email with an image of a Scandinavian snow god.

He recently bought a cabin and wanted this image used on a round wooden sign to put by the front door. We discussed some changes (he is remarkably easy to work with and work for!) and this is the result (minus his name and cabin # because I like to protect people’s privacy):

You would not believe the logistics in painting on a round wooden sign! I could hardly believe the weird things I had to figure out.

But, I like me a good challenge. (Read that sort of wording in several blogs by Southern artists, and it tickled my word-fancy-button.) If I didn’t, I’d be turning down a lot of work. Commissions really add spice to the life of this California artist.

Summer of Animals?

This summer is shaping up to be full of wild animals for this California artist.

First, we were hiking in Mineral King and saw this:

While on that hike I thought of doing these oil paintings:

They are each 4×4″, and from left to right are a mule deer buck, golden mantle squirrel, yellow-bellied marmot, and a black bear. (They are called that even when they are brown or cinnamon or blond.)

After that, I painted this bear for the Sierra Lodge in Three Rivers:

After which, they asked me to refresh this bear:

So that he would look like this:

With all that wildlife around, particularly the ferocious bear, you might be a bit concerned about unfriendly encounters or a bit of danger. There was one small incident that ended up looking like this:

I love teal. It looks particularly striking with brown.

P.S. The bear on the flag of this California artist’s state is a grizzly, not a black bear. I’m happy to report we don’t have them in California any more. This is not an environmentally correct view, but I am more concerned with personal safety than being correct. This might make me a pig. See? animal summer!

A California Artist Goes to Washington and Gets Inspired

When I went to Washington (state) in April, the tulips were in bloom. That is the reason I chose April for my visit. They were stunning.

While at the Redbud Festival in Three Rivers, I saw a lady wearing a skirt with a tulip print. The tulips were progressively larger as they got closer to the hem.

It gave me the idea to paint the tulip fields as a triptych. Triptych is Artspeak for three paintings that are meant to be seen as one scene. I have no earthly idea why this looks so cool, but it does. (It is pronounced “trip-tick”)

Turn your head sideways, squint a bit, and imagine these as a triptych. The top piece has more layers than the other two, but you probably figured that out all by yourself. And pay no attention to the gingko leaf in the upper left.

Occasionally this California artist has to take a trip. On this one she got a tych. But not a tick.

Ever seen an entire field of the same flower in bloom at once time? You can share it here.

Is There An Echo In Here??

What is the visual equivalent of an echo? A shadow? A reflection, perhaps. . .

Is there a reflection in this studio? A reflection of Mineral King, to be exact? Because I see an awful lot of Mineral King Oil Paintings drying on your wall!

Seems that way. Mineral King is de ja vu all over again.

Same scene, different viewpoints.

Same bridge twice, different paint jobs, different directions.

Same cabin, different times of day, different times of year.

Same place, favorite view, over and over and over. Mineral King oil paintings, on miles and miles of canvas. Mineral King, Farewell Gap, over and over and over. Instead of the California artist, I am the Mineral King artist. Perhaps I should change my tagline in this blog.

Nope. Oranges and poppies don’t grow in Mineral King.

Are you tired of this view yet? (that question is for you, the reader, not me, the California Artist!) Tell me about it here.

Interview with California Artist about Commissioned Oil Painting

The process of executing a commissioned oil painting is an exciting event to watch. In this second interview with myself, you may find yourself on the edge of your seat. The interviewer will be in boring black, because the California Artist prefers teal. A lighter teal this time. Pretty, isn’t it?

How’s that commissioned oil painting coming along?

Just dandy – thanks for asking! (This California artist is unfailingly polite and always thanks and compliments her interviewer. You may have noticed this in previous interviews.)

Had any trouble?

You mean besides stabbing the canvas with a box cutter when opening the package? Nope.

How does one begin a 30×40″ painting?

Thanks for asking – only the canvas was stabbed. No blood was shed. I ordered a new one. It was really expensive.

I said, “How does one begin a 30×40” painting?

First “One” secures it in a large floor easel. Preferably said One would attach a hanging wire to the back, but sometimes “One” doesn’t have large enough hardware or strong enough wire for oil paintings of this size. Then “One” tapes the reference sketch to the easel above the canvas. In the future, could you please refer to me as California Artist, or simply as “The Artist”? 

What next, oh California Artist?

This California artist squeezes out the paint onto her palette. She works in the “double primary palette” as explained by Jack White and Mikki Senkarik here. Okay, mine is a bit modified, but it suits me. Notice the use of the word “palette” twice, each with a different meaning. Art is confusing that way, as I explained here, but using the word “medium”, which is also an irritating 2-use word in Artspeak. Those old artists didn’t make full use of the English language, but they didn’t ask my opinion because I wasn’t born yet and neither was Mr. Google.

This is titanium white, cadmium yellow light, cadmium red pale, alizarin crimson, phthalo blue (try to pronounce that – the irritating Artspeak continues), french ultramarine blue and a mix of alizarin with french ultramarine. Jack and Mikki call that color on the far right “MUD”. I call it “Jack White Purple”. 

When do we get to see the painting?

Next week. On Tuesday. I’m going silent for Memorial Day Weekend. It is a good time to reflect on the meaning of war and peace, sacrifice, freedom, and other patriotic subjects. I suggest you join me, and if you know a veteran, thank him. Thank his family. Thank her. Thank her family. Thank God for them all.