Morning sun in the summer dries oil paintings quickly.
Orange you glad you live in California? Or perhaps you aren’t so glad – the state is way over its head financially, we have both sales tax and state income tax, our gas is almost the most expensive in the country, and it is stinkin’ hot.
But we can grow oranges, and we can paint them. That’s what California artists do who get calls from realtors who sell lots of citrus orchards. Blessings on you, Oh Realtors of Good Taste.
In case you were wondering, my favorite color isn’t orange. Besides, it looks terrible on me. Not my color. Maybe that is why it is fun to paint.
A good customer requested 14 paintings of citrus. He specified a certain number of Tangerines (aka Clementines or Mandarins), Lemons and Navel oranges.
Among the excitement of replacing paintings burned up in a cabin fire and replenishing the stock at the Silver City Store, I’ve been squeezing out these paintings.
Come on! You KNOW that was cute!
Tangerine, oil painting on wrapped canvas, 6×6″, private collectionTangerine, oil painting on wrapped canvas, 6×6″, private collectionLemon, oil painting on wrapped canvas, 6×6″, private collectionLemon, oil painting on wrapped canvas, 6×6″, private collection
I decided it was the best I could make it, so I called The Customer, who drives a big rig all over the country. After lots of phone tag, he left me a message asking me to photograph it with my phone and text it to him. Obviously, he does not know me very well.
No worries – whenever I don’t know how to do something (like kill a Snake or face a dead kitty or operate Trail Guy’s DVD player), I just call S. She knows pertinear everything! She very graciously agreed to handle this task with her great phone and great skill.
The Customer liked the painting! (I think he probably couldn’t see it very well on his magical little phone.) A few more texts came through S, and I decided to preserve the friendship and release her from the misery of being my dispatcher.
I called The Customer and he ANSWERED his phone!! We discussed the painting, and he requested less sky, a higher treeline, and larger rocks in front of the house. He also mentioned a bird house. I scrutinized the photo under my giant lighted magnifying glass and believe the bird house is a figment of someone’s long-distance memory.
The parents are in the painting, the corrections and changes have been made, and Pa’s pants have been toned down.
And here is the painting. As S said, “You can’t see the Dad’s face!” That’s correct. I cannot. That is why you cannot. If I can’t see it, I can’t paint it.
When The Customer returns to the area to retrieve the painting, this California Artist might be hiding in the back of S’s car.
I changed my mind – I don’t like a challenge after all. Nope. Don’t want to do this hard stuff. I’m an idiot for saying I’d try. I want my commissions to be easy, just flow from the brushes, paint themselves while I sing to the radio. This Put-My-Parents-In-The-Painting may cause me to stab myself with my paintbrush handles.
The truth is that I’ve spent hours upon hours upon hours tinkering with The Parents. This is the best I can do. What if Mr. Put-My-Parents-etc doesn’t like it?
No biggie – I can just paint it out. Erase hours upon hours upon hours of work. File it away in my mind under “You Knew Better” or “Learning the Hard Way Again” or “Stupidity Rerun”.
Then, Mr. Put-My-Parents can have a nice painting of the house.
That’d work, right?
I need to go lie down now. Maybe with chocolate and knitting. (That will keep my thumb out of my mouth.)
See how small and blurry this photo is? WHAT was I thinking when I said I’d try it?? But now that i see the photo with the enlarged view of The Parents, I think I’ll do more work on Pa’s shirt. And the pants only look too bright on the monitor. They really aren’t. I think. Maybe. Dang.
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.
An old friend asked me this last week. We only see each other once a year or so, so we aren’t close. I think he thinks that art is my hobby that I sort of fit in around my life. When I told him what all I do, he was very surprised. This means a couple of things: we really don’t know each other very well, and I’m not getting the word out very effectively that I am a full time professional artist.
Marketing, you say? Nope. I’m too busy working right now.
Check out this list from the other day:
I posted to my blog. While in the house on the puter, the phone rang. My neighbor/friend works at a local motel. She was calling to say some people from New York were stopping by the studio in 10 minutes.
Raced to the studio (after brushing my hair – sort of forgot to do that or figured it didn’t matter). The New Yorkers were a no-show.
While in the studio I put together a bank deposit and read the mail.
The mail included a Call For Entries form for an Ag Art Show. It has been 4 years since I last entered, and the rules have changed. It seems worth considering again.
Went through my photos and compared them to the categories of the Ag Art Show. Calculated the cost. (entry fees, mailing or driving 200 miles round trip to deliver the pieces, returning to Madera to see the show, returning again to retrieve any unsold pieces) Got some good ideas, decided to do the show.
Painted three 4×4″ oil paintings.
Remembered I was supposed to go to the Sierra Lodge to get another bear to paint. This one had to be delivered to my studio and I was supposed to show them the way, so I walked/jogged over.
Upon returning with the bear delivery guy, I painted a fourth 4×4″ oil painting.
Chose the sizes for each of the paintings to enter into Madera, added them to my inventory list, put the wires on the back.
Remembered the bank deposit, trotted to the house for my keys, remembered the keys were hanging in the studio door, trotted back to the studio to lock up and then back to the house to lock it, and then drove to the bank. Figured I might as well hit the Post Office and the grocery store while I was out. Tried not to run in the aisles. Tried not to make eye contact with anyone who might want to have a lengthy conversation.
Returned home to photograph some completed work and some works in progress.
Began working on the (in)famous Paint-My-Parents oil painting commission.
Wrote 3 more blog posts in my head while painting.
Suddenly it was almost dark, so I had to photograph Paint-My-Parents, close up the workshop, and go home.
Wrote those blog posts on the computer before I forgot them while something that could sort of pass for dinner was burning on the stove.
Apparently, I’m too busy to paint or do marketing. (the kind that gets the word out about business, not the kind that puts groceries in the frig so I can burn them for dinner while I work on the puter.)
Preparing canvases for 5 paintings for the Ag Art Show
It’s time for an interview with the California Artist. There are questions out there about the commissioned oil painting, and the interviewer is very curious.
Why did you accept the commission to put the parents in the painting?
I am not exactly sure – because I wanted the job? Because I like challenges? Because how will I learn if I don’t attempt it? Because I took a blow to the head in some distant past that damaged my ability to say no? Because he was very insistent and I am weak under pressure?
Did you charge him more because it involves a portrait?
Nope.
Did you just say “nope”?
Yep.
For Pete’s sake, why DIDN’T you charge him more?
Ummmm, because I have a price list based on size, not on difficulty. Because it might not turn out. Because I am weak. Because I was unprepared. Because I don’t paint portraits and didn’t have a plan.
You aren’t really that desperate for work, are you?
Never desperate, always eager. I want to make hay while the sun shines, strike while the iron is hot, and any other cliche you can think of that means GREAT OPPORTUNITY TO LEARN WHILE GETTING PAID!
But what if the parents don’t turn out?
I have an escape route! I told Mr. Put-My-Parents-In-The-Painting two important things: 1. He MUST tell me if he doesn’t like them because I MUST have happy customers. 2. If he doesn’t like them and I can’t fix them to his satisfaction, I get to paint them out.
Won’t that look like a mess?
With oil paint, it is fairly easy to cover over mistakes. In pencil, after a certain amount of erasing, a shadow often remains and is hard to cover.
How is the painting coming along?
I’m so glad you asked that question! Have a look at the progress:
Mr. Put-My-Parents-In-This-Picture also wanted to discuss price and size of his commissioned oil painting. Since I am tuned in to the business of art, I have a price list based on size. It doesn’t include added surcharges for rush jobs or requests to put one’s parents in the picture. Instead of negotiating for a price, the decisions are in the hands of the customer. How big? Then it is this much. Easy!
Mr. Put-My-Parents-In-This-Picture (PMPITP) pointed to a painting in my studio and said, “That’s what, $200? You can do it that size, right?”
Umm, no, it is $500.
Mr. PMPITP: “Well, could you do it for $300 if I paid you cash up front?”
Am I selling used cars here?? Umm, no. And I’d only like half down, thanks.
Mr. PMPITP: “What size can you do for $300?”
First, how about if we settle the issue of putting your parents in the picture? I’ve never painted a face, and when I accept portrait commissions, I charge a TON of money because it is REALLY REALLY hard to capture a likeness. And, I NEVER draw a face smaller than an egg.
Much discussion ensued. Here is the result so far:
Oil painting commission in progress
This is after 2 days of fretting and sweating. Things always look terrible the first several passes over the canvas. More will be revealed in the fullness of time.
Have you ever regretted accepting a challenge? (I’m not saying I regret this. I think.) Want to share here?
Commissions are a challenge. They are a main component of the business of art, so unless you like a good challenge, you may want to rethink a career as an artist in a rural place like Three Rivers.
Back about 6 years ago, a man asked me to draw his parents house in pencil. No problem. That’s what I did (and still do). Then he asked me to paint it in oil.
Since I’d been painting about 10 minutes when he asked, I thought it prudent to refuse. But, being helpful and knowing lots of people, I referred him to a well-established artist.
He was happy with the drawing. I never heard from him about the painting until the Redbud Festival in Three Rivers in May. He said he “hated it”. I asked if he discussed it with the artist, and he said he hadn’t because he figured it was a done deal.
Being an opportunistic artist, I told him I could paint the house for him now. He liked the idea.
A week later, he came to my studio and laid out 6 photos. He wanted to know which I wanted to paint.
I said, “umm, well, I need to look and absorb and think a bit”.
He wanted an immediate answer. I felt pressured. I picked one, and he said, “That’s the view you drew, remember?”
Actually, no, I don’t. It was 6 years ago and a few drawings and paintings have passed through my hands since then. “A few?” More like several hundred!
Then, he pulled out a photo of his parents and said, “Will you put them in the painting?”
I almost fell over. Or, as they say in the South, “I like to died!”
I explained that my experience in painting people is limited to the back views.
To be continued. . .
Sisters, an oil painting commissionWalk This Way, oil on board, private collectionOne With the Stream
One With the Stream, oil on wrapped canvas, 36×24″, $800
Would you allow yourself to be painted or photographed from the backside?? Tell me the truth here!
This list of comments was started just after Mother’s Day weekend, when I was recovering from the Redbud Festival. Now that I read them after a snowy Memorial Day weekend, I’m slightly climatically confused. Just sayin’ (which is the popular vernacular that means “I talk to hear the sound of my own opinions”)
It is hard to do weekend festivals and really hard to do shows when it is hot and REALLY hard to do shows with low attendance. But I’m merely commenting, not complaining.
Kodak’s online gallery is going away and I have to learn how to use Shutterfly. I’m trying to keep this in perspective, but am really in a state of semi-despair. All the of books, cards, calendars, and other cool photographic projects I’ve made will be gone. GONE! I can recreate cards in Shutterfly, but they don’t put any info on the back. Shall I order anyway and use a rubber stamp?? That is kind of tacky. I might have to do it that way. Perhaps that is fitting for a Regionalist from Quaintsville.
When an artist does a show, there are more benefits than the immediate sales. Here is a list: new friends, new customers, potential commissions, potential new drawing students, seeing old friends, meeting other artists, sales that happen after people go home, new blog readers.
A long time ago, I did a variety of shows. Had to do them all to learn which ones worked. Redbud Festival has been here the longest and is now the most enjoyable and best organized. They have generous booth sizes, good food, good music, and are kind to their exhibitors. (Even when it is hot.)
Doing shows in the heat and then painting 30×40″ commissions with an unaccustomed style of Loosiosity is most exhausting. But I’m merely commenting, not complaining.
