These oil paintings have their first layer down.
These paintings are dry, scanned, and delivered to their stores. (And in the category of Wishful Thinking, perhaps they are sold.)
These paintings have some minor items added to make them a smidge better.
And writing the longest blog title ever.
Does this look finished to you? It’s not. When I was driving home a few evenings ago, I really studied the way the ridges change color as they recede into the distance.
So, I messed with them again. The differences are subtle, and now that I see it on my screen, I think it might even want a bit more adjusting. (The painting that never gets finished. . .)
Now there are oranges on the trees.
The blossoms popped out on the trees, and there are a few added in the border embellishment.
Now the smudgepot has been refined, the ground is lighter, the fallen oranges are a bit more visible, and there are two more smudgepots in the far distance, too small to see in this photo.
All that remains is a wind machine.
Maybe.
This is representative of Tulare County’s best features, according to me. The weird part is that I compiled the original pencil drawing using photos taken in Lemon Cove and Pauma Valley (in Sandy Eggo County.) I’m not showing you the pencil drawing again in case you are going to tell me all the ways I didn’t match it exactly.
Because it is raining while I write this, I am thinking about water. A few years ago, we had a very wet winter after several dry ones, and I became obsessed with watching flowing water.
Here are some of the results. I was quite pleased with the drawings and pretty proud of the titles too. (There were more, but they sold.)
All the unframed pieces are 9×12”.
I’ve had these too long, and this is a slow month. So, for the rest of the month of March, THESE ARE NOW ALL HALF-PRICE! (half of what is written beneath each one here on the blog) See? Reckless.
(Oh hush up, snobby Art World who says art should never be discounted! I’m in Tulare County, and I’m the boss of my art.)
They aren’t on my website, so you’ll have to talk to me in person, text me at five-five-nine-561-7606, or email me at cabinart-at-cabinart-dot-net (both written this way so the cyberjerks don’t mess with me.)
Yes, there will be sales tax.
If they don’t sell, I might just shred them. Ooh, feeling really really reckless!
“Reckless” is a weird word. If one is feeling reckless, one might not remain wreckless.
More leaves, maybe a few more oranges, and definitely some orange blossoms are all that is needed to complete this little improvement project.
Whenever I have a show, no matter how many pieces sell, I bring home the rest and wonder why they didn’t sell. Then I think about the ones I’ve had the longest, pieces that I have improved on each time I show them again. How can I make these pieces better?
I did this scene as an 8×10 to test it out. It was the beginning of my phase of painting orange groves with hills and snow-covered mountains, which coincided with my beginning forays into plein air painting. This type of scene embodies the best parts of Tulare County—rural, citrus, foothills, snowy Sierra.
It was fun, but of the quality that caused my dearest and closest (and most honest) folks to ask if I was finished with it. So, I touched it up again, and it Is better. But it still hasn’t sold.
In spite of this little painting’s lack of success, I still love this scene. I painted it again, this time 24×24″. (Sometimes I actually do paint what I love instead of just what I think might sell.)
Now we’re cooking with gas! Brighter colors this time, because as I develop my skills and “voice” as a painter, I gain more freedom to exaggerate and embellish (but within reason, because I am still a leading citizen of Realville).
Three shows in good galleries (well, come on, I know this is Tulare County, so they are non-profit galleries rather than big city pushy money-hungry galleries) and it hasn’t found a home.
Think, think, think, AHA!
First, let’s try a little better living with technology, and tiptoe into the AHA. Using Photoshop Junior, I combined Tulare County’s Best II with a detail from a more recent painting of the same genre.
What do you think now? (almost said, “How do you like them apples?”)
Yeppers, Tulare County’s Best will get even better.
*NFS means Not For Sale, because it isn’t finished yet.
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.