Noticing Again

Heading up to the Eagle/White Chief junction.

Instead of hiking, I am taking short walks of about 2 miles round trip.

I thought I was seeing a new flower; after some careful study (about 5 seconds), I realized that it is sulfur flower as it is aging.

Sulfur flower, young-ish

sulfur flower, aging

I love the intense greenery of the thimble berry bushes that grow so faithfully across the Spring Creek bridge.

This might be known as Eagle Creek.

You can count on fireweed in early August at Spring Creek.

By the Honeymoon Cabin

The Honeymoon Cabin sits at the beginning of that trail, the tiny museum of the Mineral King Preservation Society. There is a tree that confounds me each time I paint it, and I decided to study it. It is a large juniper, with a smaller (comparatively speaking) branch coming out of it on the side, not 2 separate trees. In between the 2 parts is a weird growth, with a board on top of the weirdness.

The big old juniper just downstream has a wonky top. My friend said there used to be a footbridge across the creek in the vicinity, and we both thought that when the juniper falls, there will be a footbridge again.

This time when I tried to photograph my mystery flower, I had a dime in my pocket for comparison’s sake. And I decided it made a nice photo of greenery with a blurry Farewell Gap in the distance.

Why can’t my camera see lavender??

Still Far Away

I am far away but like to keep these blog posts coming for my tens of faithful readers. Here are a few photos for you with my usual chit-chat.

Farewell Gap in the morning light looks much better in real life than with my PHD* camera.

Ditto in the evening light.

With the short season, I’m guessing in the time that I am away that this stream will have diminished in its flow.

This is the Oak Grove Bridge. It is supposed to eventually be closed to cars with a new driving bridge installed up the canyon a ways. Looks like an impossible engineering feat to me; I’ll believe it when I see it. Meanwhile, I will continue to enjoy my favorite bridge on the Mineral King Road, my favorite bridge in all of Tulare County. We may not have a Trader Joe’s, but by golly we have the Oak Grove Bridge.

*PHD = Press Here Dummy. Although I truly enjoy the convenience of editing my own photos and not changing film canisters, I will always miss the manual options of an SLR 35mm camera and the ability to actually see through the eye-hole instead of a screen that goes invisible in bright sun or requires cheater-readers to see. Yeah, yeah, I know there are SLR digital cameras. . . I’ve owned 2. Together they lasted less than half the time I owned my film cameras. So, a PHD that fits in my pocket is fine.

Trail Guy Went to White Chief Again

In late July on a non-smoky day, Trail Guy went to White Chief. He hasn’t hiked much this summer; it might be my fault because my feet won’t let me go. On the other hand, he might just be busy, always helping cabin neighbors. Whatever the reason, when he has a chance to hike, he chooses White Chief.

When the steep stuff ends, you break into this canyon. The patch of snow is called “Bearskin”, because when it is fuller, it resembles a bear skin. (Some folks call it “Bear Patch”).

Trail Guy met Mitch from Bellingham. They quickly learned that they are on opposite ends of the political spectrum but unlike most people these days, they had a civil discussion, listening to one another. Thank you, Mitch!

Trail Guy doesn’t stay on the trail; often, he is Off-Trail Guy.

Being off trail leads to this pond, a favorite spot. NO, IT’S NOT WHITE CHIEF LAKE!

Timber Gap is visible in the distance.

The swamp onions were thick.

I wasn’t there but he brought me his camera. (Maybe one day I will grow accustomed to numb/burning/tingling feet and return to White Chief. Shall we have a pity party?)

Because this is my blog, supposed to be about my art, here is my latest painting of White Chief. It is for sale at the Silver City Store, at Silver City Resort.

White Chief I, oil on wrapped canvas, 8×8″, $145 (plus sales tax if you live in California, plus shipping if you don’t.)

Noticing, Neglected, and New: New

New

Although Sequoia National Park in Mineral King appears to be understaffed, with many things in a neglected state, things that are under the purview of private individuals are getting spiffed up. Cabin life is often about maintenance, and it is excellent to see this taking place.

This was rebuilt and is waiting for more siding.
A new roof!
New paint on the trim!
New steps!
New paint on the cabin!
Newly painted!

Finally, the Honeymoon Cabin has been painted!

Yes, many exclamation marks are in this post, because it is very heartening to see maintenance and care given to a cabin community’s tangible assets.

Noticing, Neglected, and New: Neglected

Neglected

Sequoia National Park appears to be seriously understaffed, particularly when it comes to Mineral King.

These are a few things in Mineral King that I noticed.

Falling apart sign
Abandoned pack station
Falling apart sign
Trail Guy picked it off the ground and used a rock to get it back in place
Someone did a makeshift repair at the ranger station
Propping up a sign rather than actually setting it in place is sort of a repair.
Campground closed??
Cold Springs bridge
If the campground ever reopens, I bet it won’t be $12 per site.

But wait—there’s more! A trail crew has done a bit of work on the Nature Trail.

The signs on the nature trail have never been replaced.
Looks brushy but it has actually been cleared a bit.
A trail crew placed a warning on this bridge. Are we suppsed to wade
alongside rather than walk across?

Along the road, oh my goodness. I shot these photos through the windshield one morning while heading down.

This poor little cabin belongs to the Park.

HOWEVER, someone has worked on the water troughs and Redwood is now flowing.

Understaffed. Definitely understaffed.

Noticing, Neglected and New: Noticing

This begins a series of posts: Noticing, Neglected, and New. Today’s post is NOTICING.

Noticing

“Noticing”? Yes. Since my hiking is severely curtailed, I am walking with my eyes peeled for things I may not have noticed before. When hiking, one tends to focus on the next step. When simply walking, there is more of a meandering attitude.

Instead of heading up with neighbors, I drove up. This meant I could stop for photos, and it had been awhile since I photographed the bridge.

My favorite bridge (I wasn’t walking)
The gas pump at Silver City has been painted. (No, I wasn’t walking, but this is too brilliant to ignore.)
Evening light on the cottonwoods by the bridge at the end of the road is always worth noticing.
Another dam
Why is the grass squished here?
Arnica grows by water.
Nude buckwheat – the name makes my 6 year old neighbor giggle
Foxtail pine cones look like smaller Jeffrey pine cones.
The grasses are very tall.
Two foxtail pines with a red fir squishing its way between.
Trail Guy kindly and patiently meanders along with me instead of always burning up the trail.
Goldenrod is early this year. Those are corn lilies behind.

I found a new flower, then discovered it is in my now sold-out Wildflowers of Mineral King as an unknown flower at the end of the purples/blues chapter. (The book was published 5 years ago so I am allowed to forget some things.) It took 4 different attempts to get a single photo in focus, because my PHD* camera focuses on whatever it wants to focus on.

Columbine
Ranger buttons

Gooseberries

*Press Here Dummy

19 Oil Paintings Sold in May, June and July

Kaweah Arts in Three Rivers (now located in The Dome) and the store at the Silver City Resort 4 miles below Mineral King have been selling steadily for me so far this summer.

When times are slow, it is easy to start thinking: “I’m a has-been. My prices are too high/too low. I’ve saturated the market. It’s all over. I feel fat—maybe I should start singing.”

When sales are brisk, it is easy to start thinking: “It’s about time. I wonder if I should raise my prices. Finally, I’m starting to figure this thing out.”

The truth is that there are feasts, famines, surges, and ebbs. The economy is up, then the economy is down. (Mostly in Tulare County the economy is “downer” than in the rest of the country.) Sales are seasonal. It’s all part of the business of art.

All I can do is continue to paint the best I know how, and when sales are surging, keep producing for the wonderful stores that sell my work.

P.S. The sizes aren’t shown in relativity to one another. They vary in size from 6×6″ up to 6×18″ and 12×16″.

Another Mineral King Report

It was a smoky several days in Mineral King.

I stopped by a friend’s cabin for a quick visit and was struck by this timeless cabin scene.

The smoke did not prevent or hamper the 39th annual Mineral King Preservation Society’s Picnic in the Park, featuring our own Trail Guy.

He told of his three winters spent in Mineral King in the early 1980s, a story that held people’s attention for an entire hour.

Even little ones didn’t get restless, which is mighty amazing in this age of devices.

This one had a companion with her, besides me, her current MK BFF.

These are some of the very few artifacts remaining from the end of Trail Guy’s third winter (although the photos weren’t in the cabin when it went the way of all flesh.)

When the ordeal of public speaking was behind Trail Guy, we gathered with our neighbors in the evening.

The next day we went for a walk with some of our neighbors, in spite of the smoke.

Trail Guy loves to show people his favorite flower, the tiger lily (more accurately known as a leopard lily because it has spots, not stripes, but we have discussed this previously. . .) How thoughtful of those ranger buttons to disguise the face of his hiking friend.

The flowers were excellent, something I was almost resigned to missing in this hikeless summer. But some of the wildflowers are accessible even if one is only in walking mode.

Glacial daisy

This is Soda Springs, where water bubbles out of the ground with a hint of carbonation. Some people like to mix it with powdered lemonade, but I’ve never thought that was better than plain water. The water bubbling up tastes metallic. Some of these places are called “iron springs”, some “soda springs”, although I’ve never learned the difference, if there is such a difference.

The air cleared out in the evening when the winds shifted direction.

Thus we conclude another report on a series of days spent in Mineral King. Thanks for tuning in!

Continuing to Paint in Summer’s Heat

Summer lasts a little bit too long for my liking. In early July, I was tired of it. That is an unpopular view, and I accept my status as a weirdo in this regard. However, I soldier onward in the heat, thankful for the inadequate swamp cooler in the painting workshop, and the inadequate wall unit in the studio. When I am finished painting for the day, I stagger into the house and cool off in the most totally excellent central air conditioning.

Sometimes I go walking in the mornings with my good friend. Occasionally we see a garbage bear.

Then I come home and paint.

I added wildflowers to the 8×8″ oil painting of Franklin Falls in Mineral King. They are mountain pride, arnica, and Indian paintbrush. Although they were not in either reference photo, I’ve seen them all at Franklin Falls. Being the boss of my painting, I took artistic license. Here it is, drying on the wood pile stack.

Having finished the smaller paintings destined for the Silver City Store, I returned to building up a body of work for the October-December show at CACHE.

Like most of what I have chosen to paint lately, this isn’t easy. Look at my reference photo, taken from inside the car. Traffic stopped briefly so at least it is focused.

The working title is Keep Right. Although that is very good instruction to drivers heading to Giant Forest in Sequoia as they approach the Four Guardsmen, I am doubting my ability to make the sign look good. Besides, we live in times when people tend to be highly sensitive, spring-loaded in the offended position, so out of deference to those folks, I will think of another title.

Or you can think of another title. . . I’m not easily offended, and love to hear good ideas from my tens of readers, most of whom are friends in real life.

I wasn’t kidding when I said it was hot. Look what happened while I was painting.

Wow. What a sensitive little snowflake. It was only 103° that day.