A Little Bit Too Hard

A dear friend asked me to do something almost impossible. He wanted me to draw something for which he had no photo: the Mineral King Pack Station as it appeared in the 1980s. This was before everyone and his brother carried a camera around, documenting lives as if getting paid for it. (Or is it that people now document their lives because if it isn’t recorded, they aren’t sure it happened??)

I put out the word for help. It took 6 months, but I finally located a photo that I could almost see to draw from. If I knew horses and mules, this might be adequate. Barely. However, there is a lot of detail buried in shadow and the general mushy deterioration of a photo printed on a rough surface about 30 years ago.  

I soldiered on. Gotta start somewhere, so I started with what I know – the mountains in the background. Printing the photo larger after converting to black and white helped somewhat.

Inching along – good thing there is no hard deadline.

Notice the collection of erasers. This is too hard, and a friend who knows horses offered this most welcome advice: “I think the mule may need a bit longer ears still and the dark horse in the front needs a bit of work. His face seems a bit too long and narrow to me and the front hoof seems a bit too big and clubby (that’s what we call hooves shaped like that in the horse world)”. See why I need all these erasers? Very non-forgiving subjects from a very non-visible photo by a very non-horsey artist.

Mineral King Pack station in the 1980s.

I almost finished it but forgot part of a saddle. Forgot? More likely procrastinated, because it was a blob of dark shapes. Regardless of the missing saddle, I scanned it and sent it to another very horsey friend.

I await her counsel as to whether or not these horses can be ridden or if they need a veterinarian or perhaps a bullet.

Wise artists know better than to draw or paint things they don’t know; someone who does know will know that I don’t know. Wise artists know better than to accept commissions for which there are no or poor reference materials.

Kind artists tell their dear friends they will try.

Wise or kind? This is a little bit too hard for me. And,I may not be charging enough. . .

My Favorite Bridge in Oil Paint, Chapter 6

I thought about calling this “Final Chapter”, but I hope I live on to keep painting the bridge and improving with each one.

We made it through about 23 oil paintings of the Oak Grove Bridge. There were repeated views, color adjustments and exaggerations, brighter versions, muted versions, paintings with sharp clean edges, paintings that looked sort of blurry, and the last one from a completely different angle.

Then, I began working on the commissioned oil painting that combines the bridge with Homer’s Nose, a prominent landmark granite rock outcropping. The bridge felt too hard in this one, so I decided to do a smaller version of the exact same view in order to work out some difficulties.

“Difficulties”? I might be a slow learner, or perhaps a bit simple. I’ve painted the thing 23 times and still have difficulties?

Just try to be polite here, ‘kay?

Here is Oak Grove Bridge XXIV in a few steps (although it took many more than a few steps to do this).

As you last saw it. . .
Beginning to tighten things up, like the tree/shrub on the far left that overlaps the bridge, ditto on the right, and adding light and detail to the bridge posts.
A few minor adjustments remain, but it is SOLD!

There were some shenanigans by some hooligans while I was trying to concentrate.

This photo tells me that perhaps when I have finished all the commissioned paintings and drawings, I might do a bit of shelf straightening.

What Else Did I Decide?

Remember that long list of things to do a few days ago?

I began with the oil painting commission of Homer’s Nose/The Oak Grove Bridge because it wasn’t too hot yet in the painting workshop with the swamp cooler running, there will be a check when I am finished, the heat is coming and will dry my beginning layers, and it had been a long time since I had done any painting.

When the day heated up and the decisions on the painting felt overwhelming, I switched to the studio where I draw.

In spite of having an October deadline on the calendar, I chose to work on it. Drawing calms me down, reminds me that I am a capable artist, and it feels better to inch toward a large distant goal than to just procrastinate.

The tree smack-dab in the center of the photo is not good placement. I am growing another tree (also a sycamore) in a better location.

 

This gave me confidence to tackle a pencil drawing commission that is definitely too hard for me. The customer requested a pencil drawing of the Mineral King Pack Station. After learning why he wants the drawing, we determined that the pack station as it looked in the 1980s would be most appropriate. He had no photos. I asked around for about 6 months and finally found someone with photos from that era. Alas, they are almost illegible.

After showing the customer and discussing it further, we determined that only one of these has enough information to be of any value.

Whoa. This is going to be crazy hard. I did a little cropping, a little measuring, a little pre-sketching, and finally decided to begin shading the things I know how to do.

Today’s painting for sale is not a painting for sale – it is an advertisement.

Art: Inspired by Mineral King

A showing of work by 4 artists on the deck of the Silver City Store, 4 miles below Mineral King

Saturday, June 30, 10 – 3

Barn Raising

Just kidding. I’m not raising a barn, just drawing it. Well, maybe I am raising it out of the vast whiteness of the paper.

I received these 2 photos along with many instructions. The top photo is how the barn looks now; the lower one is how it looked when the customer was a child and what he is wanting me to draw.

He also wanted me to match the size of the barn in this print, drawn (or is that ink with a watercolor wash or something else I don’t recognize?) by one of my art heroes.

Part of the business of art is communicating thoroughly and clearly with customers and potential customers. I realized that this job would require a sketch and approval of the sketch before I began, because there were lots of places for misunderstanding. I sketched it roughly 2″ x 3″, to match the proportions of the size the customer requested (measured in picas, so just trust me that it is proportionally correct). 

Got it in one attempt! Sketch approved, drawing begun. The photo isn’t great, nor is the printer. I am working primarily from the sketch and the notes.

A few hours later, this is where I was:

I told the customer it would be 2-3 weeks, but commissions always jump to the front of the queue. (2 poppy paintings need a final layer, there are 4 paintings in Birdland, and I still need a few more paintings of the most popular Mineral King scene because 3 more sold last week. Not complaining, just explaining.)

Do Over

A customer brought me a pencil drawing from 1995 with the request that I turn it into notecards. 

In order to turn an original drawing into a printed piece, there are some tasks to be done on a computer. First, I scan it, then open it in Photoshop, convert it to grayscale, erase anything that is supposed to simply be paper color, resize it to 600 dpi and whatever size in inches it will be printed, then convert it to a PDF and send it to the printshop, where she becomes their direct customer.

When I saw it, I thought it was a reproduction print, not the original. WHY did I draw an original on such flimsy and textured paper?? And why are all the trees on the distant hills the same size, evenly spaced and looking so distinct? Why is there no pencil on those hills? Why does no grass show between the slats of the fence? Why does that main tree look manicured?

Before I did any of those computer tasks, there was some serious pencil work to be accomplished.

Before:

After:

Ready to print: 

The changes are subtle, but important. My drawing students and I will see the difference, and I don’t feel embarrassed to have my name on the drawing any more.

List of Activity

What a boring title – “List of Activity” – I’m sure that got people tripping over the Google to find this post. 

Not.

But it has been active around my studio and art business lately with sales of oil paintings and pencil drawing commissions.

Finished and sent to happy customer:

Sold:

Sketch approved and drawing begun:

Further Pencilization

What is this “pencilization” that you’ve been saying lately?

Just another made up word by your Central California artist, who specializes in pencil art, turning photos and ideas into pencil drawings.

The print arrived from Shutterfly, so I was able to continue with the commissioned pencil drawing. An email arrived also, giving me the freedom to do what needs to be done in order to make the scene mostly accurate and pleasing at the same time.

Hurray! Freedom! (Sometimes customers ask me to do things that will make their drawings look stupid; this customer is not like that at all.)

Once the print arrived, I was off like a rocket, pencils flying. There’s something to be said for being able to see the details clearly! It is now in the happy customer’s hands (or perhaps at a frame shop).

Pencilization

A friend sent me a photograph and asked if I thought it would make a better oil painting or a pencil drawing.

Nothing to see here, folks; just move on. . .

What I mean is that there is very little color to see, so I recommended a pencil drawing. I ordered a good print from Shutterfly, but decided I couldn’t wait for it to arrive to begin drawing, because drawing is my favorite thing. Besides, this might be a lot harder than it looks, and there is a deadline.

There may or may not be a teensy structure that is very important to the friend/customer on the far right. We know it is there, but it isn’t visible. 

I can visualize where the structure belongs, but not the shape of the roof, or how much of the roof might even show. Good pencilization requires this information. This scene is a short 1/2 mile walk from home so I can meander over with a camera and see if the structure shows.

Meanwhile, keep drawing. . . one day my prince prints will come.

 

Pencil Drawing Finished?

The pencil drawing commission might be finished. I often run things by my drawing students, telling them to be as “mean” to me as I am to them. It gives them an opportunity to practice the skills of looking very critically, and articulating clearly if they see any weak areas of a drawing.

Here it is the first time. It was originally drawn to be printed in The Cabins of Wilsonia.

And here it is in its second iteration:I am more confident that the roof angles are closer to reality this time, and I think it has tighter detail. I’m guessing that the shocking difference in darkness is due to the computer preparations required for printing in the book. It wasn’t that dark in person because my pencils aren’t that dark. It almost looks like ink to me! (Nope, not participating in Inktober.)

Drawing Architecture in Pencil

Drawing architecture in pencil is my favorite thing. Since this drawing is gone, I get to redraw it. Second chances, opportunities to improve, do-overs–all good things.

This is how it looks after about three short sessions with my pencils. Cabin closing, oil painting, teaching drawing lessons, taking inventory and planning for shows, editing, book design, blogging, these things all cut into time to do my favorite thing. But, pencil drawings don’t take up a lot of room, there is no palette to secure or brushes to clean. (More reasons why pencil drawing is my favorite thing.)

Would you believe these roofs all belong to the same structure? This cabin in Wilsonia contains some of the most interesting architectural oddities and details of any of the cabins. I hope to see it up close and personal next summer!