Navels in the Orchard is actually just navels on canvas, another oil painting of Tulare County citrus.
I painted the details working from the back to the front, which means first I painted the items which are the farthest away from the viewer.
Usually I wait until the painting is dry to photograph it. But look at the weather —the sun wasn’t shining, making the wet parts sparkle.
At The Four-Way, right next to the Chevron station, there is a classic red barn with an enormous Valley oak tree, quercus lobata. It’s just part of the landscape, and one day while I was getting gas, I realized that this barn could just tumble, or the excess pavement near the tree could prevent it from getting the water it requires and BOOM, gone-zo. So, I took a photo to paint from, realizing there would need to be some severe editing and a liberal application of artistic license.
I started painting it one morning when I was a bit short on time but eager to get rolling. A friend stopped by to visit and kept me company while I started. I felt pretty optimistic about the painting by the end of the session.
Then I looked at this photo and realized the barn’s proportions were completely whackadoodle. So, I erased the worst parts.
Then I drew them in correctly. (How/why did I skip this step initially?? Never mind about having a friend hanging out. . . I used to be able to talk and draw.)
Back on track. . .
I realized that the orange trees needed to be different shades of green from the oak, so I mixed new greens and fixed up that grove.
Then I started working on the tree.
There was too much sky, and it needed hills and mountains.
Those clumps of leaves seemed to take forever.
It was a good day painting, and when I finished, I sat across from it with my critical hat on (metaphorically speaking because I wasn’t actually wearing a hat), I made a list of about 10 things to correct or add.
Want to see the photo that I snapped while I was getting gas?
You can see that severe editing was required to turn it back into a real countrified scene. And you can probably see about 90 things that I can do to make it be a better painting.
On my first day back at trying to be fully human, I resumed detailing this piece. This Mineral King painting was a big challenge on many levels, and I am now quite happy with it.
Feeling accomplished, I chose the next painting to work on, thinking it would be a piece of cake. This is a scene I have admired for decades and photographed it many times. It often looks great when I am driving back to Three Rivers (it doesn’t show on the way down the hill unless I do the Linda Blair head-twist, and no, I didn’t see the movie) There is no turnout, so it gets shot through the windshield. Very few of the photos are worthy, so it will require lots of ad libbing.
With a good start on my first 8×16, I started the next one, also a drive-by shot, that will also require some ad libbing.
I know that I might have more paintings of orange groves with mountains than there will be interested parties. But then again, maybe not. Guessing, speculating, and winging it are all part of the business of art. Apparently, so is ad-libbing. In ArtSpeak, it is called “artistic license”.
By “large”, I mean 18×36″ and 20×24″. By “iconic”, I mean these are familiar and much loved vistas of Tulare County.
I bet you can guess the subject of this 18×36″ painting.
Paintings start out so sloppy, but I am finally used to it and not worried when I start a new one.
This was too tall for me to reach the sky, so I flipped it upside down.
Sometimes I wonder why I even look at photos anymore when I paint this scene. Then I do something complicated such as trying to combine two different photos, and then realize that one was taken in morning light and one taken in the evening. This doesn’t work out well.
When beginning a new painting, shapes keep getting corrected and moved and resized. Eventually there is wet paint over the entire canvas, and anything I attempt just smears. When that happens, I move to another painting.
Lake Kaweah is VERY FULL right now. VERY FULL.
I enjoyed mixing the colors of the clouds and the distant mountains. They were fun to detail, but I know they aren’t good enough. Yet.
Although I am using a photograph, I might have to do some altering in order for the clouds to be believable. The sky needs another layer too. I wonder if the lake could use a houseboat or two or seven. Lake Kaweah with Moro Rock, Alta Peak and Castle Rocks in the distance is a very iconic scene in Tulare County. It wasn’t on my list to paint for the upcoming solo show until a friend showed me a beautiful photo she took on her way home from work in Three Rivers a week or two ago. She graciously offered to let me paint from it, and I started this painting the very next day.
Stay tuned. . .
In anticipation of a busy selling season this summer at the Silver City Store, I am painting like fury to have inventory. If I can get enough small pieces finished ahead of time, then I can return to painting larger Tulare County scenes for the solo show in the fall at CACHE in Exeter.
The most popular scene, assembly-line style for the base coats. Fret not: they will be detailed individually, and I won’t have all of them on display at the same time.
All of these are in various stages of completion, contributing to a sense of chaos and indecision as to how to proceed. It’s just part of the process when one chooses to be a factory, churning out many paintings of the same scenes.
These 6×6″ will be ready to go, once dried, scanned, and varnished.
This one was easier the second time I painted the scene. I’m a little reluctant to look at it side-by-side with the first version in case I decide this one is A. better or B. needs more work.
Finally, I started a 20×24″ painting of a scene shared with me by a drawing student. It looks like a weird abstract in the first pass over the canvas, but you trust me, yes? And you probably recognize the scene in the second photo here.
This one is going to be challenging but very satisfying. I messed with the photo to make it look more like we want to remember the scene rather than just accepting what the camera says. It really is a classic Tulare County vista.
Well, not exactly regular, because it involved gathering paintings from Kaweah Arts and pricing them for the Redbud Festival. But that is all part of the business of art in the life of your Central California Artist.
I started 3 new sequoia paintings so that Kaweah Arts has back stock.
Then it was time to drive to Kaweah Arts to collect paintings that might sell at the Redbud Festival. I gathered all except one, because it was hanging on a hanger that I couldn’t figure out how to operate.
I piled all the paintings according to size and attached price stickers. No matter how I do this, they don’t stay on. I did it anyway, because someone(s) else would be minding my booth for me on Sunday and I wanted it to be easy for them. Sunday mornings at the Redbud Festival have historically very low attendance, but it would be wrong to leave my booth unattended while I attended to my responsibilities at church.
This doesn’t look like very many, does it? There are about 30 here, stacked on the desk.
Something happens when I am seeing them all together and studying them up close and in good light: suddenly, none of them look quite good enough. Sigh. I hate that.
It was a beautiful day, and I worked with the studio door open.
Then I painted some more until it was time to set up for Redbud.
The plan was to get all the structures in place and then take the paintings and other merchandise on Saturday morning. It was so very windy that we just unloaded the display pieces and headed home. I didn’t take any photos of the wind for you.
About the paintings: if I mix up and paint each color across three paintings at once, it goes a bit faster. It’s a continual struggle to not spend too much time on paintings, because the prices have to be sensible for the tourists, and the stores keep 30%. I often hear that my prices are “too low”, but it is good to be realistic about Tulare County. Besides. . .
As I study some of my paintings and live with them, I see ways to make them better. So, I touch them up to improve them.
Just another peek into the work of a Tulare County artist, bumbling along here in Central California. Sometimes you just can’t tell on a computer screen because they photographed differently. Guess you’ll just have to trust me.
As I plan for the solo show at CACHE in autumn, there are a handful of paintings that I want to improve. Finesse. Polish. Tweak. Pick your word.
I love this scene! It’s one of the earlier pieces of my obsession with orange groves, foothills, and snow-covered peaks, titled “Tulare County’s Best”. Why hasn’t it sold?
I changed some of the colors and tightened some details on Alta Peak, along with making it stand out a bit more.
I painted this one with the intention of enjoying it in my dining area for awhile before putting it in the gallery (the show isn’t until mid-October). After living with it for awhile, I saw a way to make it better. So, back to the easel.
I have a few more to puzzle over and figure out how to improve. But, I’m in Texas right now, so the other Tulare County paintings will have to wait.
A few weeks ago, I went to Tulare. As usual, I chose back roads. There were orchards in bloom, greenery everywhere, and snow on the Sierra Nevada. There is often snow there but it isn’t always so visible from the flatlands. (Smog comes down the Altamont Pass from the Bay Area and collects in the Central Valley.)
Agriculture is the biggest industry in Tulare County, and there is more to ag than citrus, although you might not know that if you look at my art. I don’t get out very often, so when I saw this field of some kind of grain (prolly for cattle to eat or perhaps for dairy cows) with the silos and the mountains beyond, I pulled over.
The end of the day has low light, so I took it outside to get a better photo. The color is weird on the silos and buildings, not just because of the low light, but because the mountain blue/lavender paint got mixed in. That is a risk of painting wet into wet. (Sometimes I live out on the edge, painting wet into wet or pulling over on the side of the road for photographs.)
All that remains is to get those mountains right and correct the color on the silos and buildings. I left off a giant house because it didn’t seem important. I’m the boss of my painting, not the photographs or reality (unless it is a commissioned piece).
P.S. There won’t be any wildflowers.
We left off with this painting of a fabulous view from a special place in Tulare County at this stage. Everything remaining to finish falls under the category of Drawing With My Paintbrush.
Whether drawing or painting, I often turn things upside down in order to see the shapes accurately. If things are right side up, our brains talk to us about what we think we see. If we flip things over, we are forced to study the shapes and proportions as they really are. So, this method was helpful in copying the shapes of the mountains correctly.
Next, the valley below needed detailing. I didn’t try to make it exact, because no one cares. (It ain’t the Sierra!)
I added more detail to the closer hills, then put in the oak tree on the right.
Finally, I put more detail and contrast on the rocks.
It isn’t signed because after all the greens dry, there will be some wildflowers. Never miss an opportunity to put in wildflowers!