Lisa’s Lake House #4

Nope, not the fourth lake house of Lisa; it is the 4th pass across the canvas.

In my opinion, the sky, clouds, lake and trees are finished. However, my opinion is subject to change, and if I see something to improve, pass the paint brushes and step aside!

The roof, the porch and steps all seem finished to me, but Lisa has the final say.

I’ve resized and repositioned the windows until they finally look right. (or perhaps I have commission fatigue? Lake house fatigue? Lake house painting blindness syndrome?)

Lisa’s Lake House, 3

Lisa is enjoying watching her painting develop as this California (cabin) artist paints a Minnesota (lake) house. Apparently she isn’t squeamish. Because there is no one photo that says it all, she needs to be involved.  For example, in most photos that she provided, the trees look very thick. But, she wants to see the lake and remembers how it looked when they had those trees thinned out for the lake view.

I sent her this photo after my third pass over the canvas.

The very tall tree on the right of the house is too tall for the width of its branches. I wanted to add much wider branches at the base. Lisa asked that I simply shrink the tree. It probably needs both things to happen.

As I looked through all the photos, some on paper and some on my computer, I saw a picture of the house that shows a tad bit more of the right side. It looked better to me, so I scooted things around a bit. I also increased the size of the windows to be more accurate and began adding detail to the porch area.

I love detail. I LOVE DETAIL. I LOVE DETAIL!

(Do you believe me?)

Lisa had asked me to remove one of the birches on the lower right. I did. She asked me to put it back. I will. I’m just easy to get along with that way. 😎

Let’s get through these decisions so I can get to the detail sooner – I can’t wait!!

Lisa’s Lake House 2

Lisa reviewed the progress from painting session #1 and sent me some more information. It is rather astonishing to realize the amount of words and communication necessary to create a painting from someone else’s photos. There isn’t a single photo that says it all, so many photos with lots of explanation is the only way to understand it well enough to paint it.

Here it is after the 2nd painting session.

More paint to cover the orange (WHY do some artists think that it is good to paint the canvas orange?  Furthermore, WHY did I listen to them??), evergreens thinned (fewer of them and fewer branches than before), horizon line raised (it didn’t show in the photos where the lake sort of peeked through the trees so I guessed, and guessed wrong)

I think the painting looks fairly good now if you view it from the back of a fast horse.

Lisa’s Lake House, a Commissioned Oil Painting

Lisa’s family has a lake house in Minnesota, somewhere northern and treed and lakey and gorgeous. She asked me to paint it.

After briefly considering a request to be flown there to see it with my own eyes, I came to my senses and said “Yes, of course I can work from your photos.”

(I have yet to find a customer who will fly me to her lake house in Michigan or Minnesota, family estate in South Africa or Brazil, beach house on Cape Cod or the Outer Banks, log home in Montana or Colorado, et cetera. What am I doing wrong here??)

Lisa wrote me some very thorough notes. We emailed often when she was at the lake house. She took photos. We spoke on the phone. We wrote a few more emails.

Then, I did a sketch for her.

We emailed a bit more. She mailed some more photos. I took copious notes.

Then, I primed a canvas in the orange that was already on my palette. Orange is in the middle of the dark to light spectrum, so it is rumored to be a good priming color.

I emailed her a photo similar to this and warned her not to be scared by the sloppiness. I’ve heard that watching a painting happen is similar to watching sausage being made. Couldn’t prove it by me; however, I do know that my paintings begin their lives looking a little loosey-goosey, sloppy-woppy, ugly-bugly.

Put on your rose-colored glasses, willya for Pete’s Sake?

(Who is Pete?)

Responding to the Voices in My Head

That’s a scary title, is it not?

“Sisters” took a long time to paint. The customer hired me because she liked my precision, and she gave me all the time necessary to complete this to both of our satisfaction.

When I paint, I listen to lots of things. There is music, podcasts, talk radio, books on tape, and voices in my head, including my own.

An aside: Someone said we should talk to ourselves the way we talk to our best friends. You know how sometimes you say things to yourself like, “How could you be so dumb?” (Maybe you don’t – please just play along for a moment. . .) If your best friend did something dumb, you’d be more likely to say, “That’s okay – stuff happens and we can learn from it.” Or, “Don’t worry about it – it is a small thing that can be fixed.”

This is what I have chosen to believe and follow:

  1. I am a studio painter who works from photos.
  2. Good paintings take a long time to finish.
  3. Precision and accuracy are attractive.
  4. I love detail.

Here are what the voices in my head have been saying, and here are my new responses in light of my recent decision (see the September 12 post):

VOICE #1 – “You are drawing with your paintbrush”.

Me – “So what?”

VOICE #2 – “If you paint standing up, you’ll paint with more energy.”

Me – “If my foot hurts, I will paint with more pain.”

VOICE #3 – “You need to listen to cool music while you paint, jazz or classical”.

Me – “This is a great time to listen to talk radio, podcasts about the business of art, interviews with artists and authors and inspirational speakers, sermons I’ve missed from my pastor, and audible books.”

VOICE#4 – “Real artists don’t paint from photos.”

Me – “Okay, I’ll be a fake artist.”

VOICE #5 – “You need to step back from your painting to see how it reads from a distance.”

My – “Thanks for the reminder. I am so into the detail that I forgot!”

Loves Cotton, Loves To Knit, oil on wrapped canvas, 8×8″, $100

 

New and Improved Farewell Gap

Last year I did an oil painting of a standard Mineral King scene, Farewell Gap. It didn’t sell.

No big deal. I took it to shows and put it on my website. It didn’t sell.

What gives? I took it back to the Silver City Store this year and everything has sold so far except that painting.

Finally, I showed it to my friend Tall Cathy, who has been going to Mineral King her entire life, which is about 10 years longer than my life, plus she started at an earlier age. (i.e. Tall Cathy is a bona fide Mineral King Expert.) I asked her, “What’s wrong with this painting?”

She said, “Little Florence is too low”.

I said, “Shoot. I was afraid of that. Guess I’ll take it back to the studio and redo it.”

Little Florence is the peak on the left side of Farewell Gap, and it is lower than Vandever, which is the peak on the right side. Sometimes when you see it from a place other than the bridge, it looks very much lower. With 20,713 photos on my computer, I’m not going to look for the exact one I used for the painting. You can see the concept here:

 

Aside from the fact that normal people don’t lie in the grass to take photos, this is not the normal way that normal people view when they normally view Farewell Gap from the bridge. (There – have I successfully destroyed the word “normal” for you?)

Here it is in its new and improved version. Last year I photographed my paintings. This year I scan them. The color isn’t true either way. Look at the heights of the peaks – this is more of what people expect when they think of Farewell Gap.

Do you agree with this?

Poppies For You!

Poppy I, oil on wrapped canvas, 4×4″, $35

Poppy II, oil on wrapped canvas, 4×4″, $35

Poppy III, oil on wrapped canvas, 4×4″, $35

Poppy IV, oil on wrapped canvas, 4×4″, $35

Or, special deal – buy all four together for $125!

How to Decide if There is Enough Contrast

When I worked exclusively in pencil, a drawing had to have contrast. My friend Debbie used to say, “Remember, black is your friend.” She was right.

Without contrast, a drawing is flat, plain gray and boring.

Paintings can sometimes get away with not very much contrast. They don’t look great, but the color distracts from the lack of value range. (Values are the darks and lights – “value” is a good Artspeak word to know.)

But, I am very aware of contrast and value because of my pencil days.

I painted this little canvas of Timber Gap in Mineral King. It didn’t look very good to me.

 

 

I converted the photo to black and white which confirmed my suspicions of not enough contrast.

There really weren’t enough lupine either, but that’s not the main problem.

Have a look at the redone painting in black and white.

Neat trick, eh?

Here is the finished piece in color.

Timber Gap, oil on wrapped canvas, 6×6″, $50

 

Business Decisions Are Hard Without A Crystal Ball

Maybe they are hard with one too.

I’ve been getting the message from several sources that my prices are too low.

My subject matter is Tulare County, and most of my customers are here. Because we are poor, fat, undereducated, breathing bad air, and accustomed to frugality, I price my art work accordingly.

Common art marketing wisdom says that if your prices are too low, people will not value your work.

Common sense says that if your prices are too low, you will stay poor.

Contradictory common sense says that if your prices are low, you’ll sell more and more people will buy your work and then you will raise your prices and have a following who are willing to pay your new prices.

Common sense is uncommonly confusing.

(“Too many cooks spoil the stew” or “Many hands make light work”? “Absence makes the heart grow fonder” or “Out of sight, out of mind”? See what I mean?)

This little 6×6″ painting of Sawtooth is $50 plus tax. It is an original oil painting that took me about 2 hours to make. (First I had to buy the canvas, brushes, turpentine, linseed oil and paints.) When it sells at the Silver City Store, they keep a percentage, of course. That means I am earning a sorry hourly wage, particularly when you take the giant self-employed bite out of it.

Does this matter?

Not to me. I paint Mineral King because I love Mineral King.

However, I do need to earn a living.

I just looked up other oil painters. For 6×6 oil paintings, they charge $26, $65, $80, $100,  $125, $150, $175, $190, and $325.

Holy Cow. Excuse me, I need to go do some more thinking. Might need to knit a few rows to calm down, have a hit of chocolate, pace, rock back and forth while banging my head on the back of the chair, perhaps even put my thumb in my mouth and curl into a little ball.

Making People Cry

My dear friend Natalie moved to Texas about 18 years ago. I still miss her. We email, write letters, talk on the phone very occasionally, and every so often we find a way to visit each other.

Natalie is such a great person that her boss and co-worker decided to buy a couple of paintings from me for her birthday. They chose Mineral King as the subject, because that is where Nat and I met back in 1986.

I think it was because she was so surprised, so touched and maybe a little bit tired that these paintings made her cry. I don’t think it was because she was so disappointed!

I love you, Nat!! I’m almost wishing I’d driven to SLO for a stranger’s wedding last month so we could have had a 2 hour visit. Might have been a little rude to the bride. . .