Fix ’em Up, Make ’em Better Than Before

Yesterday I told you that the paintings retrieved from Silver City will be heading to Exeter’s Mural Gallery, which reopens September 19 (TOMORROW!) after a summer-long renovation. (I don’t think they have a website, but their physical address is 121 So. E Street (next door to the former Wildflower Cafe, at the edge of Mixter Park, home of Exeter’s first giant outdoor mural.)

These 5×7 oil paintings on panels got freshened up and will be sold with little easels. I didn’t photograph the process out of respect for my readers who have no interest in miniscule improvements to paintings.

And here is a table full of Mineral King paintings. I painted them quickly, in order to hustle them up the hill for the usually excellent selling month of August at the Silver City Resort. Alas, we had a thunderstorm which caused a lightning strike which began the Coffeepot fire on August 3. So, I brought them home.

They aren’t terrible, but I studied each one and found at least one thing to improve. I started at the bottom left, and here is a photo for comparison. Prolly a useless exercise for you to discern what got improved, but here goes anyway.

And now the entire table-full has been renovated.

You’ll just have to trust me that they are all a little bit better than before. By the end of the day, the light has changed significantly enough that they look different in photos, whether or not they’ve been retouched.

Now they must dry and I must rescan them in order to have a good record of each painting, because OF COURSE they will sell.

Drawing a Pennsylvania Dog in Pencil

Pencil Pennsylvanian? Pennsyl Pennsylvanian? Pencil Pencilvanian?

Never mind.

His name was Elvis, and some friends of his former owner commissioned me to draw him.

Almost done

All those inferior progress photos were taken with an inferior phone camera. Here is the finished drawing, scanned, photoshopped, ready for delivery.

Elvis in pencil

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, 2

The Minnesota customer replied quickly and thoroughly to my inquiry about the two different versions of the cabin. I couldn’t tell if there were actually two gable ends, slightly different, or if some changes had been made. She said the cabin has been a work in progress and changes get made regularly. The three rows of shingles beneath the upper gable window is the most current. She also sent this helpful set of color coded photos.

We had a rainy day, which is perfect for drawing. I went to the studio where the distractions are limited and the heater works well, and was psyched for a day of pencil, my favorite art medium, drawing a cabin, my favorite type of subject.

See the edge of my laptop? There is NO WAY I could have done this almost impossible drawing with this degree of detail without viewing the photos on my laptop. I lightened the shadows of the very dark places, enlarged the photos enormously, and even flipped the summer view of the gable end horizontally so I didn’t have to guess how all the angles would look. You can see the potential for tying one’s brain in a knot here:

I worked from top to bottom, left to right. This is the best method for a right-hander to not smear. (Left handers can work top to bottom, right to left.) Actually, smearing happens anyway, but it is less of a problem when the paper is covered in this systematic method.

And, I finished the drawing!

Come back tomorrow if you want to see it. Same Bat time, same Bat channel. (I never actually watched Batman because we only got 2 channels, not the third one that had Batman on.)

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. . .

Cabinart = Art of a Cabin

Drawing cabins in pencil is the way I started my art business. Now I spend 90% of my artmaking time as an oil painter, so when I get asked to draw a cabin, I am really happy about it!

Someone from Minnesota found me on the internet and asked if I could draw her parents’ cabin in spite of not having clear photos of the entire structure. I told her to send them to me, and I’d see if I could make sense of the photos.

Want to see the pictures she sent?

I knew you’d be interested.

These presented a real challenge. I did three little sketches and emailed the potential customer. She was delighted, and asked me to wait for an answer (yep, dealing with a deadline here) because she needed to consult with her sister.

Which one did they choose?*

Tune in tomorrow. . .

*If you read my blog on April 11, you know the answer to this question.

Some flowers, a painting, and a lost and found sketch

A couple of weeks ago, a friend and I decided to ride bikes in Lemon Cove, because there are flat roads down there. We parked at the Lemon Cove Woman’s Club (I think that is the odd way the name is spelled), and we were just slayed by the orange blossom scent and the incredible Lady Banks rose at the clubhouse.

As wonderful as it all was, it was still a workday, so we headed back up the hill (in a car with a bike rack—remember, we were seeking flat roads to ride.)

Kaweah Arts sold a painting on their opening weekend, and I needed to replace it.

Sequoia Siblings, 6×18″
No, really, it will be good!

It was a bit of an overcast and chilly day, so I moved into the studio to begin a commissioned pencil drawing. (I’ll tell you more about this one later, as the details unfold.)

After studying 5 not-so-great photos, I made 3 sketches for the customer to determine if I could capture the Minnesota cabin for her parents’ anniversary gift. Then, I lost the sketches. Good thing I scanned them —HEY! I BET THEY ARE IN MY SCANNER!!

YIPPEE SKIPPEE, SURE ENOUGH THEY WERE!

Alrighty then, let’s just calm down. I worked off the laptop to start the drawing (because I couldn’t find the sketches).

About an hour later of checking angles, drawing, measuring, erasing, and repeating the dance several times, I ended up with this mighty impressive foundational drawing.

Gotta draw the dog before you draw the fleas. . . and this dog has many challenges. Never fear—I am up to the task.

Fast or Good?

My drawing students are used to hearing me tell them, “You can be fast or you can be good; I get to be both.” Everyone still laughs, in spite of the obnoxiousness of the second part.

This is an indisputable truth, when it comes to the highly detailed, accurate type of drawing that I teach.

Alice worked on a drawing of her Desert Painted Sheep, nicknamed “Oughtie”, for several years. (Hey Alice, I didn’t mean THAT S L O W!) But things take as long as they take*. She was very meticulous about every shape, every texture, every value, and she did a fantabulous job.

I didn’t take any photos of the process, or more accurately, I don’t remember if I took any photos of the process. We discussed various background ideas, tried some different textures, and ultimately, she decided that the drawing is finished.

During the process, I learned that goats’ tails go up and sheeps’ tails go down. She made some good friends to play pickleball with. (My drawing students have varied interests and are some of the nicest people you could ever spend time with.)

Here is the final outcome, scanned, but not yet scrubbed up with Photoshop (the junior version).

The artist forgot to sign the drawing before she sent it home with me to scan, so she emailed me a few signatures. I chose one and placed it on the scrubbed-up scan.

My classes are full but you are welcome to get on a waiting list. If there are four people waiting who can all meet at 1 p.m. on Tuesday afternoons, I will add that 1 p.m. class.

*How’s that for a quotable truth?

Drawing in Pencil for the Joy of It

A few months ago I started this pencil drawing, simply for the joy of drawing (and to prove to my drawing students that I can draw). I worked from photos that I took in Mineral King last fall. The light, Audra’s hat, the lack of dealing with a face or an actual complete horse all caught my interest, along with the dynamics between the woman and the horse.

This horse was the last one to get loaded for transport down the hill. Audra was so patient, just waiting for this recalcitrant horse to follow her into the trailer. “Recalcitrant” because he spent most of the summer outside the corral with a couple of mules. The others just watched while staying in the boundaries. Then, sure enough, this guy was not interested in joining the herd to head down for the winter.

Because the hat seemed to be the most important part, I started with it. If I can’t get the most important part to look right, there’s no need to waste time on the rest of the picture.

I had a little bit of difficulty with some of the shapes, so I made corrections and showed those to my students to demonstrate how to repair problems (and to stay humble). But I didn’t photograph the corrections—they were for my drawing students to learn from. (Do you want lessons? I have a waiting list, and you are welcome to get on it!)

Drawing lessons were suspended in December, because that’s the way we roll. I was occupied with many things, some work-related (painting, blogging, participating in a little bazaar, resupplying my vendors, filling calendar orders, sending Christmas cards to my students, sending out 2 newsletters—are you on that subscription list? —planning a solo show for Autumn 2024, ordering supplies, doing some year-end bookkeeping) and some non-work-related (you don’t need a list of this stuff).

As you have recently read here, I was a little flummoxed by how to proceed on several paintings, so I used the excuse that it was too cold to paint in the workshop and went into the studio to finish this drawing. (I love to draw in pencil—did you know that?)

Because I wasn’t showing my drawing students along the way, I didn’t photograph or scan any of the rest of the steps.

Here it is almost complete. “Almost”?? Yeppers, because when I scan it, the white paper scans as gray, and the pencil has a brownish cast.

This is unacceptable, so I use Photoshop Junior (actually Photoshop Elements) to erase the margins.

The drawing is simply titled “Audra”, not “A Girl and Her Horse” (she’s a grown woman and it ain’t her horse), not “Big Hat, No Cattle”(no cattle in Mineral King because it is National Park, not National Forest) or “Wranglers Are For Women Too”. . . wait, that one is pretty cute. Maybe it should be called “Wranglers Aren’t Just For Cowboys”.

Nah, the hat is more important.

The Business of Art: Notecards

“Margaret’s Poinsettia, package of 4 cards and envelopes, 4.6×7.2”, $20. Inside message: Wishing you Christmas joy and blessings in the new year!

Through the years I have designed, printed and sold hundreds, nay, THOUSANDS of little cards. “Notecards”, as I refer to them, are perfect to say “thank you”, “hi”, “just one more thing”, “I appreciate you”, or even “I’m sorry”. If you write real big, you can get by with just one sentence.

“Sun Kissed”, pencil and colored pencil drawing, package of 4 notecards and envelopes, 4-1/4 x 5-1/2″, blank inside, $10

Designs come and go; sometimes I redraw something and then get rid of the older version. Other times, it seems as if a design has run its course and needs to be retired. Sometimes I have too much inventory, so I let a design run out for awhile. And sometimes a design that really grabs me just doesn’t speak to the buying public.

“Oak Grove Bridge #28″, oil painting, package of 4 notecards and envelopes, 4-1/4 x 5-1/2”, blank inside, $10

I used to sell my cards in many stores around the county. Most of those stores are now closed. Even if the stores were still around, my costs are so high that if I sell them at a wholesale price to a retail store, there is zero profit for me. This means that I am working for free. That’s just dumb business.

Sawtooth and wildflowers, pencil and colored pencil drawing, package of 4 cards and envelopes, blank inside, 4-1/4 x 5-1/2″, $10

Nowadays I sell the cards here on my website, occasionally when I do a bazaar or if I am having an art showing or exhibit (what’s the diff? I dunno), and on consignment at a very few places. “Consignment” means that they pay me after the cards sell, which means a lot of checking in, rewriting lists to keep current on supplies, making bills, sending the bills, paying attention to what has sold and what needs to be restocked.

Farewell Gap in Mineral King, pencil drawing, package of 4 cards and envelopes, blank inside, 4-1/4 x 5-1/2″, $10

It’s all part of the business of art, which involves many decisions. Most of those decisions would be better if I had a crystal ball. Lacking that, I look at the history of sales, look at the current economy, look at the venue and think about the customers. If consignment, I look at the store’s record of payment, if the cards are getting shopworn and need to be repackaged, or if the store hasn’t been displaying the cards in a manner that the customers can see them.

“Sawtooth”, oil painting, package of 4 notecards and envelopes, 4-1/4 x 5-1/2″, blank inside, $10

The business of art is a complex and delicate blend of science, art, and guesswork.