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.

Distracted Drawing

Because I teach people how to draw, it is prudent for me to keep in practice. I have no commissions right now, so this means I can draw whatever I want.

I began a drawing that was full of challenges, showing my students that I follow the same steps that I teach them. Then I had some interruptions to my work life and just set it aside for awhile. When I returned to the drawing, it was hard to focus.

Flowering pear

I pulled out the drawing and decided EVERYTHING was wrong. So I stared out the door for awhile.

Finally I went back to the drawing, following the advice I would give one of my students to see what, if anything was wrong. I discovered one part that was easy to correct, and then decided that I wasn’t focused enough to work on detail. So I went to the blurry, dark, somewhat unimportant background. “Unimportant” in that its accuracy was irrelevant, but important in that it be a support to the main part of the drawing without drawing attention to itself.

I didn’t document the earlier phases of the drawing because it didn’t seem like a potential blog post. The hat was the most important part to me, so I did it first, figuring that if it didn’t look good, I could just toss the drawing without having invested too much time.

You can see a serious erasure under the horse’s chin. That was the easy-to-fix part, and I hope I can bury the messed up part in some background.

I walked back to the house after this bout of serious focused work (fall down laughing). Told you this was distracted drawing, didn’t I?

Tucker and the deer don’t really care about each other.
Jackson isn’t bothered either.

Back to the studio. . .

Finally, back to the drawing board.

Oh my, those stripes are going to be a challenge.

Old Drawing Leads to Family Reunion

This blog post is just a short report on a personal topic. Trail Guy and I attended a 99th birthday party for his great uncle. The invitation came over the phone, so I didn’t hear the address or the time. I knew Great Uncle lived next door to a friend’s house, which I drew a number of years ago, figuring that Trail Guy had the address in his head or written somewhere.

He asked me what time we needed to leave because I wanted to do two errands while we were down the hill. I thought that because it was a lunch party that it was at noon, so I did some calculating, built in a little buffer, and said “quarter to eleven”.

After the second errand, he said, “Now what do you want to do?” I said, “We have the right amount of time to find the house, because we don’t know which side of our friend they live on”. Indeed, more than plenty, because the party was at one! Oops.

I thought he had the address, and he thought I knew the time.

So we went to CACHE and spent some time looking at the exhibits and the art.

Drawn so long ago that the landscaping was different. (2008)

When we decided to head toward the party, I followed my memory to the house I had drawn. Alas, it had been 15 years, and the signature birch trees which were to be my landmark were nowhere to be seen. We drove around the block, and then parked near the house that I was fairly certain was the right one. (Silly me, all that assuming, and I even didn’t look at the drawing first either—simply relied on memory). A neighbor came out on one side and asked if we were lost. Turns out that we weren’t lost after all; the party house was on the other side of the house that I remembered. By then, all we had to do was watch to see where cars pulled up with people we knew.

Great Uncle’s wife of perhaps 10 years read a sweet poem she wrote, and then Great Uncle recited a poem he wrote. What a story: engaged, then broke up because he didn’t want to leave a fiancé behind when he served in WWII. They married other people, and when both were widowed, they reunited and finally got married.

This photo was completely unposed and does not do justice to this handsome couple.

After the toasts and poetry, Trail Guy and I joined up with his favorite cousin outside. Favorite Cousin’s son had driven his mom and her husband to the reunion. He and I sat on the edge of the pool with our feet in the cold water and got acquainted. He was a delight to talk with! He said something profound, that first he attributed to Banksy, and then after looking it up (EVERYONE has a phone), we decided his version was clearer and simpler.

Everyone wants to be an artist, but no one wants to learn to draw.

-Cousin Jake

P.S. Happy Birthday, Laurie!

SOLD (Took awhile. . .)

For several months, I had no work. Instead of worrying about it, I enjoyed guilt-free time at the cabin. Well, guilt-free except for the fact that the road was closed, and other people couldn’t enjoy Mineral King this past summer. Life is a series of good things and not-so-good things; we do our best with what we have been given. Or I do. Most of the time. I don’t know what you do. Maybe you just complain. . .

My point, and I do have one, is to show you that I did have a few sales. One must pay closer attention when times are a little hard, because the negatives are often much louder than the positives. Here are my positives from that slow period plus a couple of months beyond.

I am guessing on the titles and some of the sizes. Closies count. . .

Pencil, 6×9″, a commmission drawing
Pencil, 11×14″, a commmission drawing
Oranges, 5×7″, oil on panel
North Fork, 10×10″, oil on canvas
Navel, 6×6″, oil on canvas
Sawtooth, 8×8″, oil on canvas
Unspiced, oil on canvas, 6×12″
Alta and Moro After a Storm, 6×18″, oil on canvas
Craig’s View, 6×6″, oil on canvas, a commission painting
Orange Pair, oil on panel, 5×7″
Big & Tall, oil, 6×12″
This is acrylic on a 1’x3′ panel.