First Peek at Commissioned Oil Painting

As promised on May 24, here is the first peek at the commissioned oil painting spoken of in two previous blog posts.

Cowboy Bert told me he has a shirt that color. I said, “It’s called wheat”.

He said, “That don’t look like wheat to me.”

I said “It is wheat as viewed from the back of a fast horse.”

He said, “I’ll buy that”.

When cowboys say “I’ll buy that”, it doesn’t mean they plan to purchase an item. It means that they agree with you. It is the cowboy equivalent of city folk saying “Word”.

Aren’t you glad I am around to explain the English language to you?

My pleasure.

And, in case you are wondering about this painting, remember the commissioner/client/customer/friend/drawing student said she loved “loosiosity”.

Bet you can figure that word out all by yourself!

Any other words you’d like the California artist to ‘splain to you?

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.

In Which The Artist Interviews Herself About a Commission

The California artist will be discussing an upcoming oil painting commission. The interviewer will be black, and The Artist will be teal, because it is her favorite color and this is her blog.

What are you working on these days?

Oh I’m so glad you asked that question! A friend/student/customer/client/all of the preceding titles told me of seeing a painting that really rocked her world. Alas! It was already sold. Being an opportunist/artist/entrepreneur, I said, “I could paint that for you.”

What was it of?

Great question – it was a wheat field with crows flying overhead.

Is it ethical to copy someone else’s painting?

Of course not! Paintings can be copyrighted (in fact the copyright is assumed in the artist’s favor) but ideas cannot. The painting she saw simply serves as the seed of the commission I will do for her.

How are you planning to make this seed grow?

She showed me a photo of it, then I looked up the subject under Google images. I saw that the most famous painting of a wheat field with crows is by Vincent Van Gogh. Next, I looked up photos of wheat fields to understand how they flow and change colors.

Will your friend/student/customer/client like it?

I believe she will love it. She chose the size that will best fit her space, which is 30×40″. She explained that she loved the “loosiosity” of the one she first saw. (Great word, yes?) Then, we discussed the proportion of sky to wheat. After that, she decided that red-tail hawks suit her more than crows.

So it is similar but different.

You got it.

Do we get to see the sketch?

Yeppers. Try to not be overly impressed with the great effort that has gone into this project so far – I know it will just render you speechless.

Have you ever seen a painting that you wanted copied for yourself?? The California artist would love to hear about it!

From Pencil Drawing to Oil Painting

During Three Rivers Artists Studio Tour Ten, some folks saw the pencil drawing of Redwood and Dogwood. They liked it, but color sells better than black and white and shades of gray, and oil paintings have a greater appeal than pencil. I LOVE PENCIL. Just sayin’.

Something new happened to me as a California artist: these people asked me if I could do an 18×24″ oil painting of the pencil drawing! What a fun challenge – not sure of which photos I used, I just decided to rely solely on the pencil drawing as my reference picture.

When the tree and background were finished, it had to dry before I began the dogwood in the foreground. I don’t have nearly as much experience painting dogwood as Sequoia trees, so I pulled out some photos for that part.

I think the flowers need to be less cultivated looking. A few stray limbs will help. It might need some growing stuff on the right. The drawing has unidentified shrubs, so I may try to make something up. If it looks fake, I can just wipe it off.  (Didn’t want you to get worried!)

The pencil drawing of Redwood & Dogwood is for sale. The shopping cart doesn’t work on my website, so you can email me for information. Sigh.

A Painting is Born

I gave a 4×6 oil painting on a little board to my friend Carol. She has it in her den. Or is it a library? Maybe it is a family room. . . Anyway, it is on a lamp table in her home, and I don’t think she just put it out because I was coming over either! (Get that rude thought out of your head.)

 

It was this scene, but much smaller. Made me feel good that she likes it, and despite being a year or more old, I still like it. (Oh no, does that mean I have plateaued in my skill??) This is by Tharp’s Log, out of Crescent Meadow, in Sequoia National Park.

Carol requested another painting, a winter scene this time. (She thinks she is commissioning me, but her money is no good to me.) While I was there, she gave me the photo she’d like me to paint.

After spending 3 days cutting the boards, painting, sanding, painting, sanding, painting, and sanding, today I chose one of those little 4×6 boards. (If my retired husband is willing to use the table saw to make 1 board, might as well have several done at once. Next, I hope he is willing to paint and sand and paint and sand.)

This is how a painting is born:

First, I drew it on with a paint brush. The little building on the left is really just an informational kiosk, so it will  not be invited into the painting. Didn’t figure it out until I had it placed. Isn’t that a rough drawing? If you didn’t already know that I can draw, you’d probably have doubts.

This is the first layer. Not a bad start, but I will layer and layer and layer some more. Seems the smaller a painting is, the more care it requires. The larger it is, the sloppier I can paint, and it still looks tight and almost photographic. I don’t know if that is good or not good, but it is how I paint. And Jack White said we should all paint the way WE paint, only better.

Hunh? Well, I got it, and it made me feel more confident in my painting.

This is in Yosemite National Park. I am a California artist, so I paint California things. (Thank you, Captain Obvious!)

(Captain Obvious has to speak these things so Mr. Google will find me.)

Signed, Sealed, Delivered. . .

. . . it’s yours!

Some artists don’t like to do commission work. Maybe they don’t like to eat, either. Or maybe they aren’t very good at understanding what other people want. Maybe they are rebellious adolescents trapped in the bodies of adults.

I like commissions.

It is a fun challenge to make a visual representation from a person’s verbal description. It is very gratifying to have a happy customer at the end of a job. It is a wonderful thing to have a sale without all the will-she-won’t-she.

During the Three Rivers Artists Studio Tour Ten, several folks asked me to paint specific things for them. As a California artist, naturally I was thrilled to receive confirmation that California poppies and giant Sequoias are always a popular subject.

These poppies were unfinished, sitting on the easel, looking like little butterflies when Amy spotted them. She asked if she could buy it before it was completed. I think I said, “Um, sure!” (Hopefully I was more polished that that.) This was painted from a photograph that my very generous mailman brought to me; he’s just thoughtful like that.

Christine asked me if I thought I could get inspired to paint a Sequoia in the snow. I said, “I’m always inspired if someone wants something.” (Hopefully I was a little more polished than that.) I went through my photos, picked one, and happily dove in, well inspired and eager to do my best for Christine. She now has it and is very happy.

That’s the goal of commissions in my little business.

Committing Commissions

 

This is not a commission. It is a do-over. I painted this when I was new to oil painting, and recently I figured out how to do it better. I painted right over the top, so I didn’t have to figure out any shapes or placement.  (Three Rivers is gorgeous in the spring. I know I keep saying that. But, really, the unemployment is terribly high, the air is nasty in the fall, and we are all fat, so don’t move here, ‘kay?)

This sequoia oil painting has better detail than the previous view. Why am I painting a sequoia in the snow when it is spring? Because CS wants it! And this California artist accepts commissions in oil. Pencil too.

Committing more Commissions

I painted three pomegranates for a nice lady of impeccable taste that came to my studio during Studio Tour Ten. She asked for one, and I painted three so that she would have choices and I would have more to sell at the Redbud Festival.

I also began this sequoia in snow for someone else. This is 2 layers of paint. A third layer is coming with more detail.

And this is the beginning of a new experience for me – painting in oil from a pencil drawing! I am purposely not looking for the reference photos, because I want to stay true to the drawing. That is what the customers requested, so that is what I will deliver!

Notice the California poppies in the background. They now have another layer of brilliant color on their little butterfly-like petals.

Isn’t this California artist-like? Sequoias, pomegranates, poppies. I like it here. 😎 (But you’d probably hate it because  there is no Trader Joe’s or Whole Foods. Maybe that’s why we’re all fat.)

Peeking into the painting studio and eavesdropping on conversations

Um, would you paint something  just for me?

You betcha! I’d be happy to paint something for you! What did you have in mind?

How about a pomegranate?

How about 3 of them? Then you can decide which one you like best.

Would you ever be willing to paint a sequoia in the snow, say, 8×10″?

Would you be willing to buy it when it was finished? If yes, then yes.

What about doing an 18×24″ oil painting from your pencil drawing of  “Redwood & Dogwood“?

I’d love to do that for you! What a great idea, you brilliant patron of the arts!

If you finish that 6×18″ painting of poppies, I’ll buy it.

Really? I knew that one was a great idea. (Thanks to my mailman for bringing me the photo!)

 

If you were to commission me to paint something for you, what would you request?

Odd Jobs

Oh-oh, here comes that interviewer again.

Hey California Artist, what are those?

They are Giant Sequoias, aka Big Trees, or for those Rangers out there, they are Redwoods.

Yes, I can see that, but that doesn’t look like canvas to me on that easel.

Me either.

So what is it?

Redwood. Those are redwoods on redwood.

Are you kidding??

Now don’t get your knickers in a twist – it is salvaged wood, not savaged trees.

But what is it?

Keep your shirt on – more will be revealed.