Really Big Oil Painting of Classic Mineral King

The day finally came to finish this painting. Well, not entirely finish, because after I photograph a painting, I usually see a long list of things to fix or change or improve. I don’t know why this becomes evident when looking on a screen; it is also true for my drawing students and other friends who paint or draw.

The tall trees were the next thing to paint, and I decided it was time to go in search of my floor easel for larger paintings. We have a lot of storage space, and it wasn’t easy to find or retrieve this thing. But, it was worth the effort—tall easel=ease of painting but ease of locating.

I cleared off the table where an easel usually sits. Whoa, I have a lot of brushes.

Then I lowered the painting so I could sit on the stool and still reach the top. I used to paint standing up. My feet used to not be numb. I’m thankful I can still paint at all.

Stop procrastinating, Central California Artist! You have a large painting to complete, so chop-chop!

First, I redid some of the background details (not so as you’d notice in these little photos, but I didn’t want you to think I was just sitting there.)

A tree grows in Mineral King/Three Rivers/on canvas.

And another tree grows.

Shrub and water time.

Now the canvas is covered. Time to let it dry.

I wondered what it looked like in real sunshine so I carried it outside for a photo. It isn’t signed and the edges aren’t painted, so it didn’t matter that the easel cast a shadow on the top.

Let’s have a little fun. . .

I think this is fun. Simple pleasures. . .

Before I put on my metaphorical critical hat, I just want to enjoy the sense of almost completion of this 18×36″ oil painting of classic Mineral King. I wonder if it will sell at Silver City, sell from my website, or hang on until the solo show in October at CACHE. . . more will be revealed in the fullness of time.

18×36″, oil on wrapped canvas, suitable for framing or ready to hang as is, Classic Mineral King, $1500

Ad-libbing, Guessing, Winging It

On my first day back at trying to be fully human, I resumed detailing this piece. This Mineral King painting was a big challenge on many levels, and I am now quite happy with it.

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Cabins below Timber Gap and Empire.

Feeling accomplished, I chose the next painting to work on, thinking it would be a piece of cake. This is a scene I have admired for decades and photographed it many times. It often looks great when I am driving back to Three Rivers (it doesn’t show on the way down the hill unless I do the Linda Blair head-twist, and no, I didn’t see the movie) There is no turnout, so it gets shot through the windshield. Very few of the photos are worthy, so it will require lots of ad libbing.

With a good start on my first 8×16, I started the next one, also a drive-by shot, that will also require some ad libbing.

I know that I might have more paintings of orange groves with mountains than there will be interested parties. But then again, maybe not. Guessing, speculating, and winging it are all part of the business of art. Apparently, so is ad-libbing. In ArtSpeak, it is called “artistic license”.

Painting Mineral King

In anticipation of a busy selling season this summer at the Silver City Store, I am painting like fury to have inventory. If I can get enough small pieces finished ahead of time, then I can return to painting larger Tulare County scenes for the solo show in the fall at CACHE in Exeter.

The most popular scene, assembly-line style for the base coats. Fret not: they will be detailed individually, and I won’t have all of them on display at the same time.

All of these are in various stages of completion, contributing to a sense of chaos and indecision as to how to proceed. It’s just part of the process when one chooses to be a factory, churning out many paintings of the same scenes.

These 6×6″ will be ready to go, once dried, scanned, and varnished.

Clockwise from upper left: White Chief, Alpenglow on Farewell Gap, View from the Bridge, Sawtooth.

This one was easier the second time I painted the scene. I’m a little reluctant to look at it side-by-side with the first version in case I decide this one is A. better or B. needs more work.

Finally, I started a 20×24″ painting of a scene shared with me by a drawing student. It looks like a weird abstract in the first pass over the canvas, but you trust me, yes? And you probably recognize the scene in the second photo here.

This one is going to be challenging but very satisfying. I messed with the photo to make it look more like we want to remember the scene rather than just accepting what the camera says. It really is a classic Tulare County vista.

Painting With a Few Interruptions

Another beautiful spring day, accompanied by the desire to just be outside and pull weeds.

Nope. It’s a workday, chica.

But wait! There’s an eclipse! I joined Trail Guy for a brief look at the weirdness of shadows and light, with the help of a colander and a piece of white paper.

Back to work.

Two paintings now drying, so that tighter detail can be applied in the next session.

How about another break to enjoy the wildflowers?

Back to work.

In spite of succumbing to a few temptations, it was a very productive day. So, here is our final reward of the day.

Happy Birthday, Mr. Stroben!

Finished Pencil Drawing of a Cabin

I sure do know how to stretch a story out. . . have you noticed how many people use the cliché “long story short”, and then proceed to make a short story even longer? I am sort of doing that here, except I break it into chapters for you, because of another cliché that applies to many blog posts: TLDR (Too long, didn’t read).

Here is scanned Minnesota cabin drawing before I scrubbed it up on Photoshop Junior.

Here it is converted to gray scale with all the chuds erased and the paper color also erased. Chuds are marks on the scanning bed—this word came from the days when I worked in a frame shop. Sometimes after you’d get a piece of art all sealed up under the mat and frame and backing, with paper secured over the back, you’d flip it over and there would be a little something under the glass. My co-workers called these little somethings “chuds”.

A few more thoughts. It was a thrill to have a stranger find me over the interwebs, because people are always contacting me to say that my Google ratings are too low and that they can help me. (No thanks, you creepy Stalking Strangers; how did you find me on Google if my ratings are too low??)

The customer was a pleasure to deal with. She mailed a check when I told her that PayPal takes a bite, she replied quickly when I asked for more information, and she even marked up the photos so I would know who was on first and what was on second.

Alas, I learned something the hard way. A few months ago, I raised my prices for pencil drawings. It had been years (decades??), and it just seemed like a wise move. BUT I DIDN’T RAISE THEM ON MY WEBSITE. Sigh.

Someone could use a business manager, an administrative assistant, a Girl Friday, a right-hand man. Hmm, I guess that’s the problem: my man is left-handed!

P.S. If you are curious about my prices, you can see them here: Pencil Drawing Prices. I only show the smallest and the largest, because sometimes it is all just too much information and too much work. (I’d rather be drawing.)

Drawing a Cabin in Pencil

Which of the three sketches of a Minnesota cabin did the two sisters choose?

They chose A! (The exclamation mark is because that was the one I was hoping for.)

I cropped all the extraneous cold stuff. The sisters asked if I could show a bit more porch, and the best I could say was, “I’ll try.” There just wasn’t much to work with.

I spent an entire hour struggling to place the cabin so that there would be room for part of the wings on either side of the gable, in order to squeeze in a hint of the porch. It took a very long time to get the angles exactly right. This sounds excessive, but architectural subjects are not forgiving, and if you don’t get the skeleton down correctly, the parts don’t fit.

Finally, I was able to begin. (The picture of the drawing below is accidentally cropped—it actually has a 1″ margin around the image on this sheet of 9×12″ archival smooth expensive paper.)

Oh no! When I look at the photo I am using, the window size in the winter photo doesn’t quite match the summer photo that shows the gable end. Further, on the summer view of the gable end, there are 3 rows of shingles beneath the upper window.

Time out. I need some instructions, please!

So, I emailed the sisters.

What happened next??

Tune in tomorrow. . .

The Other Day. . .

. . .I walked into the painting workshop, looked at all the paintings in their various stages, and just wanted to walk back out.

Why?

Because it was so beautiful outside and because I couldn’t figure out where to start.

Wet and finished
Wet and finished, wet and unfinished
Which to begin on?

The simplest solution was to start where I stopped the day before.

Wet, obviously unfinished

So, I did.

Some friends brought us lunch and we sat together in the front yard, then took a walk. YEA! I got to enjoy the perfect spring day with excellent people!

After lunch, I just dove into those embryonic Mineral King paintings. Knowing my heart wasn’t in it, I just took a handful of the paintings a short distance. When it required too much concentration, I stopped, and began another.

That’s enough on this one.
This used to be my favorite subject to draw and paint before I got completely enamored by orange groves with hills and mountains in the distance.
That’s enough on this. It is just as hard as I remember.

Suddenly the day was finished. None of the paintings were, but four new Mineral King paintings are closer to being finished than they were when I arrived in the morning.

A Good Painting Day

What makes a good painting day? So glad you asked. It is a day where I make visible progress on paintings, the kind of progress that makes me like the pieces I am working on, and the kind of progress that brings me closer to putting the paintings on the DONE list of Tulare County’s prettiest places.

I didn’t photograph this one after putting on the final touches, so I’ll just tell you that I fixed the branch in the center that is too light and too straight. I also added a few branches hanging down in front of the main tree with leaves and a hint of olives. Then, I signed it!

The road is dirt now. Yeah, yeah, I know that Dry Creek Road is paved, has a center line, and feels like a freeway compared to the Mineral King Road. But this is my painting. So, moo. I also tightened a few details on the barn.

This one needs to dry so that I can add wildflowers. Looks as if that leaning tree on the left could use a bit of straightening. It didn’t look weird in the photo, but it isn’t translating well here. When the flowers are in the painting, I will do a post showing you all the photos that I used to make this scene, which is the best representation of my memory of walking this trail on a very early morning last spring. The photos just don’t tell the story.

This painting is another compilation, or perhaps amalgamation is a better word, of many photos. I know how it looks in person, the camera doesn’t tell the story, and so I mess with the photos on Photoshop to see if I can make the different elements work together. Then I use that to create the scene I remember.

This was so fun. It felt as if I was painting for an hour or so, and suddenly, the day was over!

Little Things Mean a Lot

It often just comes down to the little things, the details, those finishing touches on a painting that bring the most satisfaction. Here are five paintings that I added little things to on a single morning of painting.

Tucker wanted to know if I was going to be there for awhile.

Big Oak: I studied this painting for awhile and decided the dirt patch at the bottom might be too large— “might be” was enough to make me go back to touch it up.

I signed it too. Wow. Was that worth the effort? Maybe.

Square Orange Grove: I thought this was finished but maybe I wasn’t convinced, because I didn’t sign it. Trail Guy asked me why I hadn’t put orange blossoms on the close trees. Ummm, I forgot. . .

Excellent! And now it is signed too. All it needs is a title (I’ve been calling it The 16×16″), photography, and varnish.

Take Me Home: I tried to put a single leaf in tight detail on the road. It looked dumb. So, I put in texture to resemble dirt, rocks, sticks, and basic dirt road debris. Then I signed it. I don’t want to work on this painting anymore. (But I will if someone tells me something that would make a measurable difference.)

Homer Barn: I had forgotten to put the trees on top of the left hills, and the road wasn’t quite right. I worked on the shoulder of the road and added a layer to the field on the right.

Now I have to decide if it should have cows on the right, which will mean it needs a fence. I’ll just wait on these decisions until the road and other new parts are dry.

Dry Creek Wildflowers: more lupine and leaves on the skeletal tree were needed.

This could be signed now, but then again, I might keep “polishing”. I might want to keep this one. . . maybe I’ll just keep working on it so it isn’t ever quite ready to sell.

Yeppers, Tuck, I was here long enough to bore you to sleep.

And thus we conclude another tour through painting the prettiest places in Tulare County.