Get Busy

A friend gave me a sign for my studio that says something about getting busy. I’m very obedient and have been busy. Although I thought I had enough paintings for the upcoming Fall Shows and that I’d be drawing ahead for the Cabins of Wilsonia, I’m still painting for the busier selling season.

oil paintings of Three Rivers by Jana botkin

It is wise to keep paintings of Sequoia trees and of the Kaweah Post Office always on hand because I am a California artist from Three Rivers, which is right below Sequoia National Park. Part of being a Regionalist from Quainstville is always having oil paintings of my quaint surroundings available for those who appreciate such simple and beautiful subjects.

oil paintings of Three Rivers

River paintings are also fairly popular with my fellow citizens of Quaintsville. We love our little area with its familiar landmarks. When you are a California artist who lives in a place called “Three Rivers” (that actually has 5 forks of the Kaweah River), how can you not paint river scenes?

Where Are The People?

This summer I have been contemplating the fact that there are thousands of people passing through Three Rivers each year. Most of them come through during the summer, either on their way to or from Sequoia National Park. They come to see the big trees (sequoia gigantea), bears, and vast views of mountains. They come to escape the heat. They come for camping, river rafting, and to see deer and wildflowers.

in the lobby of the Buckeye Tree Lodge in Three Rivers

I know they come; I see their cars!

The big question is WHERE ARE THEY? We don’t have many restaurants, not too many stores, and very few galleries. Where are these People Who Visit Three Rivers hanging out??

They aren’t hanging out in Three Rivers during the day, but they are hanging out in the evening at the motels.

One of my favorite motels in the Buckeye Tree Lodge. It is the closest one to the Park entrance, owned, operated and staffed by friendly people, many of whom I am fortunate enough to have as friends.

I want these People Who Visit to take home an original oil painting as a permanent reminder of their trip to Sequoia, to have something of value rather than an unnecessary plastic item stamped “Sequoia National Park” or “Mineral King” or “Kings Canyon”.

Now, the lobby of the Buckeye Tree Lodge has original oil paintings and cards for sale. Gotta take it to The People Who Visit, because they don’t know where to find me.

Time will tell if this is a good move or if I am just storing art in a motel lobby. This business of art sure is a blurry route at times.

 

Only in a Small Town Like Three Rivers

Last week I experienced some things that only happen when one lives in a small town. Three Rivers in Central California qualifies as a small town, with a population  around 2600, and many of whom are weekenders.

pencil drawing of the Kaweah Post Office

(The Kaweah Post Office in this pencil drawing isn’t my post office, but it isn’t very far from home.)

As I passed South Fork Drive, a car pulled across my lane onto the highway going the opposite direction. I almost locked up my brakes to avoid him, but there was no audible squeal. He didn’t seem to notice anything amiss.

At my next stop, my very good friend pulled into the lot behind me and said, “I saw that! Are you okay??” Wow, what what a thoughtful friend she is! I was fine, and was especially touched by her kindness.

She told me who the driver was, and we both were a bit a worried and puzzled as to his behavior. We speculated about his state of mind and hoped he was shaken awake.

Back at the studio, I ripped into my mail. It included a bank statement, and I was astonished to see that I’d taken a trip to the coast. My first thought was “OH NO! Identity theft!” Then I had the presence of mind to read the top of the statement. Aha! It belonged to someone else.

I grabbed the phone book and called her. She was home, so I jumped back in the car and zipped over to her house. And, I apologized for reading her business, but hoped she had a great time over at the coast.

Where else but in a small town would you know the one whose mail you received by accident, know where she lives, and just run it over to her?

And, where else would you understand that the more experience postal clerk has hand trouble, so she switched places with the other clerk who isn’t quite as experienced with loading up the P.O. boxes?

P.S. I noticed that this is full of exuberance – “ripped into my mail”, “grabbed the phone book”, “jumped into the car” – may you all be blessed with such energy as fall arrives.

Definitely a Summer of Animals

This is definitely shaping up to be a summer of animals in Three Rivers and in Mineral King.

I’ve been asked more than once why I don’t paint animals. The answer is that I don’t have good photos from which to paint. It is unethical and illegal to paint from other people’s photos without their permission, so I don’t use National Geographic or calendars or even google images.  My own photos of animals rarely turn out well, and not in enough abundance to produce more than an occasional painting. And my understanding of animals (other than my cats) is limited.

Just as authors are exhorted to write what they know, artists should also paint what they know. Why? Because if you don’t know your subject, someone else will, and they will know that you don’t know it. The business of art means knowing things like this.

Authenticity is a driving force for me, and painting unfamiliar subjects make me twitch with stress about being exposed as a poser.

Back to the animals. The next door neighbors called on Sunday to ask Trail Guy (AKA Retired Road Guy) to dispatch a Snake. It was their first Snake in 9 years. Most of the Snakes come to our address. (Snake spelled with a capital S is explained here.) I’ll spare you the gory details. Suffice it to say that Trail Guy is a neighborhood hero.

And, on Monday I witnessed this in my front yard.

This is the patriarch of a flock with 12 little turkeys. Yes, I counted!

Sometimes I gobble at them. I think the last time I did that was on a walk, and I didn’t see the AT&T guy up ahead. He might have asked for a transfer to another area shortly afterward. Lost that walking partner too.

What wild animals do you have in your daily life? This rural California artist likes to hear how normal, non-gobbling folks live. 

Summer of Animals?

This summer is shaping up to be full of wild animals for this California artist.

First, we were hiking in Mineral King and saw this:

While on that hike I thought of doing these oil paintings:

They are each 4×4″, and from left to right are a mule deer buck, golden mantle squirrel, yellow-bellied marmot, and a black bear. (They are called that even when they are brown or cinnamon or blond.)

After that, I painted this bear for the Sierra Lodge in Three Rivers:

After which, they asked me to refresh this bear:

So that he would look like this:

With all that wildlife around, particularly the ferocious bear, you might be a bit concerned about unfriendly encounters or a bit of danger. There was one small incident that ended up looking like this:

I love teal. It looks particularly striking with brown.

P.S. The bear on the flag of this California artist’s state is a grizzly, not a black bear. I’m happy to report we don’t have them in California any more. This is not an environmentally correct view, but I am more concerned with personal safety than being correct. This might make me a pig. See? animal summer!

Extras from Bear on the Roof

While I was painting the bear at the Sierra Lodge in Three Rivers, several things came to mind.

1. There is always more to a job than first meets the eye. In this case, it was the scraping of peeling paint that I didn’t anticipate.

2. Whoa! Who knew that painting on a roof would cause one’s shoes to get all sticky with tar??

3. What a nice place to work – the staff was hard-working and friendly, both to one another and to me. Eric, the maintenance guy wouldn’t leave until I was safely off the roof. Ruth offered me cold water. Nice thoughtful people!

4. You can see the place is maintained and cutened up like crazy! (I KNOW it isn’t a word, but find me a better one, ‘k?)

5. I love views from rooves. (I know that isn’t a word either – can’t seem to help myself today.)

6. I sure get to live and work in a grand place! (that is Three Rivers, Tulare County, California, in case Mr. Google is listening to this conversation.)

7. Commissions are certainly full of variety and challenge. There isn’t a single thing about my job that is boring except for the bookkeeping.

Have any good made up words to share with me?

Should I paint this?

There is a small waterfall on a trail not far from my house in Three Rivers. If I want to go far on that trail, I drive the first mile. If I don’t want to go further than 4 or 5 miles, I walk up to the trailhead.

The stream that makes the falls is seasonal. It scares me to go there after the weather turns warm because there are Snakes. Rattlesnakes is what is meant in Three Rivers when one hears “The Snakes are out” or “I saw a Snake yesterday” or “We had a Snake in our yard”.

Notice the capital S on the word. In German, nouns are capitalized. Snake isn’t German, but it needs to get your attention. I don’t like Snakes. A Snake caused me to break my camera a few years ago.

I digress.

The waterfall is beautiful. It doesn’t photograph that well. If the sun is on it, it is all washed out brightness and deep black shadows. I mess with the photo on iPhoto, and it gets okay. But okay isn’t great, and I need great to make great paintings. Maybe one day I will be skilled enough to make great paintings from okay photos. This is not that day.

See what I mean?

Maybe I should add redbud. Ignore that sandy “beach” with the weed-covered well thingie.

What is your opinion of this scene? of this scene as an oil painting?

Great Poppy Year

The year was 2008, and the California poppies were stunningly abundant in Three Rivers. People still talk about it.

This is one of my photos from that most memorable year.

My postman brought me some photos he took, and I painted from them. You saw the results of one such painting here.

I promised to show you this when it was finished, and I keep my promises. If I remember. This larger version contains more detail than the 8×10 version. The mailman’s photo was easier to paint from than mine, because the solid mass of poppies almost makes my head spin. Hard to paint with an almost-spinning head.

Great Poppy Year©, 16×20″, oil on wrapped canvas, $360

Redbud Festival in the Olden Days

This past Redbud Festival in Three Rivers got me reminiscing. (I love that song by the Little River Band. I love the Little River Band.)

The very first one I ever participated in was in 1987. I shared a space with my friend Katie. She sold silk-screened tee shirts with a Redbud logo of her design. Her boyfriend had just broken up with her, and she had to keep leaving our space to cry. (That ex-boyfriend visited my booth this year – we have remained great friends, but sad to say I’ve lost touch with Katie.)

I took no photos. I traded one drawing for our rent, and another for a pottery lamp. (George, can I please PLEASE have that drawing back? I’ll give you 2 lamps for it!!)

The next time I participated was in 1990. The show was still at Ardfarkle’s, the former restaurant at the Three Rivers Golf Course. I took a photo of some hairy good-looking guy sitting in my booth.

I think I sold some things. I also learned that shows are often about making contacts more than making sales. I definitely learned to NEVER put pencil drawings framed under glass in direct sun. Now I only do outdoor shows if I am in shade. Those pop-up tents weren’t invented back then, or perhaps they were just too expensive. That hairy good-looking guy built me an awning, which worked when the sun was at the exact right angle.

Things remain constant in my life, with small changes:

I’m still drawing (and now painting) the same subjects: The Kaweah Post Office, Farewell Gap, cabins, the Oak Grove Bridge, and even the old Mineral King Store. I borrowed that round table so much that my Mom finally gave it to me. (It is now used for propping up easels while I paint.) And that (somewhat less) hairy guy still picks wild iris to enhance my booth each year I participate in the Redbud Festival.

Is your life consistent? or is it just me?

Very truly yours,

The Consistent (Central) California Artist