The Visalia Times-Delta has an article in the Saturday edition about the Mooney Grove murals. This is the link. Maybe it works without a subscription. You’ll have to try it. (Thank you, J.C. for letting me know!)
Many Happy Returns (and some not quite as happy)
If you can’t see the photos, go here: cabinart.net/blog.
Three Returns
One advantage (and disadvantage) of being in the art business in the same county year after year after year, is that sometimes your art gets returned to you. Some are happy returns, some are hassley returns.
The circle is a sign, painted by me about 10 years ago. The customer was happy and now the disintegrating sign needs to be replaced, larger this time.
The citrus art was for sale at Farmer Bob’s World, and nothing sold. The customer wasn’t happy, apparently. (Who was the customer? No one.) I am happy that I can sell it in a place with greater visitation.
Many years ago when I began oil painting, a friend (because almost everyone in Tulare County is a friend, unless he is a friend of a friend) bought this painting. That friend has moved on to his reward, and the painting was given to the Mineral King Preservation Society. The MKPS brought it to me because it needed a little attention after all these years. This is not a happy return because my friend is gone, but it is a happy return because I can spruce it up.
Interruption: What is Pippin Doing?
If This Ever Gets Returned…
The customers presented this painting to the happy recipient, who got a little teary-eyed. He and I have many things in common, and we just chattered away about various aspects of this painting, such as how the idea was conceived, what exactly is in it, why I left some things out, and how much we love this view. He is sort of like anutter brutter from our utter mutter. (And if this painting gets returned, I’m hanging it in my house!)
No More Return
I returned to this colored pencil drawing. The original concept was to only use the 24 Prismacolor colored pencils in their limited set. Those stupid pencils kept breaking, so I started using lots of other colors too. It reminded me of one of the many reasons I quit using colored pencils.
I doubt if I will be returning to colored pencils any time soon.
Not Returning This Either
About a year ago after a whole lot of trouble, I finally bought a mini fridge for the painting workshop. The freezer is where I store my oil painting palette, a convenient luxury. The big box store was TERRIBLE to deal with. A few weeks ago when I retrieved my palette, it was HOT inside the fridge. Sigh. I unplugged it, pulled it off its pedestal, propped the door open, and now I have to figure out how to get rid of it. I am NOT going back to the extremely inept, incompetent, undertrained, understocked, understaffed, and apathetic big box store. Instead, I will consider it one year of luxury, now both a memory and a hassle. (Learned in June 2021, #10)
Are You Drawing With Your Paintbrush Again?
If you read this blog through an email subscription on your phone, the photos might not show up. (Some people get them, some do not.) You can see them by going to the blog on the internet. It is called cabinart.net/blog, and the latest post is always on top.
Yes, I am drawing with my paintbrush again. Paintbrushes, and the smallest I can find, treating them as if they are pencils. Wet flexible pencils are not as effective as graphite pencils, but I think this painting is getting better as a result of all this teensy work.
Remember this?
The first item of business was to complete the distant hills and grove.
Next, instead of painting around the children, I dove into the minutiae, “minutiae” in terms of size, not in terms of importance.
Boy first, because as a righthanded artist, working from left to right lessens the risk of smearing wet paint.
Since the photo of the children was taken in a parking lot, it will be tricky to manage the light in a believable manner, and tricky to make believable shadows. First, though, we need believable children.
These kids are just so cute, both in person and on canvas.
Much work remains, and it will be thoroughly enjoyable as I pursue art of Tulare County, combining my favorite subject of citrus and the mountains with the challenge of believable little people.
Familiarity Breeds Comfort
If you subscribe to the blog and read the email on your phone, the photos might not show up. (Some people get them, some do not; it isn’t a problem I know how to solve.) You can see them by going to the blog on the internet. It is called cabinart.net/blog, and the latest post is always on top.
“Familiarity breeds contempt” in some cases; in the context of my oil painting endeavors, familiarity breeds comfort. “Sawtooth Near Sunnypoint #8” is signed, sealed, and delivered, another commissioned oil painting in the archives.
This means I can move into another comforting subject, one that I love to paint, although this one has its own challenges. This oil painting commission came with much freedom. The customer didn’t care what orchard as long as it is oranges, wasn’t concerned about the foothills, and after much conversation (“Really, you must care about something specific here!”), he decided that Sawtooth and Homer’s Nose made the most sense for the visible peaks. His focus is the children, and he provided good photos.
If I were a loosey-goosey painter, this would be close to finished. Alas, I am a painter who loves detail and when this dries, I will begin drawing with my paintbrushes on this Tulare County classic view.
A New Oil Commission
If you subscribe to the blog and read the email on your phone, the photos might not show up. (Some people get them, some do not; it isn’t a problem I know how to solve.) You can see them by going to the blog on the internet. It is called cabinart.net/blog, and the latest post is always on top.
Custom art, or “commission” work might be the most satisfying piece of my business. I am painting something that someone really wants, painting with confidence that it will be loved, and confidence that it will be sold.
Artists can be so insecure. We pour ourselves onto paper or canvas, creating something that really lights our fire, getting lost in the process, and then . . . what? Nothing happens.
So, when I get a commission, particularly one of something that I am familiar with (orange groves, sequoia trees, Sawtooth, cabins, or anything Mineral King), it is a real pleasure to paint.
Beginnings
The customers chose 16×20″. I primed the canvas, assigned an inventory number, and wired the back. Pippin hung around, but wasn’t interested in the details. (And the vase of lemon geranium may have repelled the mosquitos.)
It was near the end of the day, and I was in danger of falling into Idiotville, where Stupid, Sloppy, and Careless reside, so I set it aside for the day.
And this is how it looked after the next painting session:
Yeppers, this time in oil paint instead of pencil. Not sisters this time—a brother and a sister, different grove. And no deadline, so I will spend oodles of time make this piece of Tulare County art perfect.
Oodles, I said.
Maybe, Maybe Not
When I look at a finished painting in person, it seems truly finished. This painting signifies the best of Tulare County to me, and I am not always objective.
However, when I look at a photograph of the painting on my screen, sometimes things appear that weren’t all that noticeable in person.
Here is a progression of the untitled painting that is finished, or maybe not.
Tuesday morning overview.
Tuesday morning lower right corner, unfinished.
Wednesday morning lower right corner, finished (but in shade so hard to tell what is what).
May I be finished now? Better put it in the sunshine for a truer color photo.
Now may I sign it, and then paint the edges? 
Maybe, maybe not. Better let it mull a bit, study, scrutinize, put on my truth glasses (just a figure of speech) and try to be objective.
Or maybe I should show the customers and see if they think I am finished.
Maybe, maybe not.
Mired in Detail
After spending a good chunk of an afternoon drawing with my paintbrush, perfecting the detail on the 50th Anniversary Floral Bouquet oil painting, I had a real hankering to return to the commissioned oil painting of my favorite subject. “Slamming out” some quick small paintings for the Redbud Festival just wasn’t lighting my candle.
This painting was calling my name.
I began texturing the distant hills. 
Then I built a few roads.
If this wasn’t a commissioned piece, it would go in my dining room. I can paint another for myself, but there is enough other (PAYING) work that it is not a priority.
So, I will enjoy the process of being mired in detail for someone else’s happiness. Snow, GREEN, poppies, CITRUS. . . the very best that Tulare County has to offer. (But remember, we have bad air, high unemployment, diabetes, teen pregnancies, high welfare, no Trader Joe’s or Whole Paycheck grocery stores, and a severe lack of education. Just sayin’ in case you were thinking of bringing some big city values to our little piece of California’s flyover country.)
A Few More Orange Groves in Paint
Here is the rest of your tour through Tulare County’s finest scenery, as interpreted in oil paint.
This was a commission, the very first time I painted a citrus grove with hills in the background.
In the Orchard (sold)
Tulare County’s Best (24×24″, available, $1000)
This was a thank you gift so it didn’t need a name.
Citrus Sunset (sold)
This was a commission.
Another commission. 
And the latest with the appropriate title of “Citrus and the Sierra”.
Citrus and the Sierra, 10×20″, oil on wrapped canvas, $350 (plus tax if you live in California)
P.S. I thought this piece was spoken for, but I didn’t put the size on it and the intended customer’s intended wall is not wide enough.
Orange Groves in Oil Paint
These are several oil paintings of my current favorite subject: orange groves with foothills and mountains in the background. Looking at these (and showing them off) helps me regain my confidence as an artist after the tiny face show-down.
Citrus Cove (sold)
Looking East (sold)
Lemon Cove (sold)
Picking Time (10×10″, available, $150)
In the Orchard (sold)
If you have a hankering for a painting of this type of scene, I am available for commissions. Just tell me the size, which mountains you want visible in the background, and anything else you’d like in the painting. Then, I will put your project in the queue.
There. Seeing all those “sold” signs, and knowing there is a queue all helped repair the ding to my confidence after the face trouble.
Searching for a Bridge
Three Rivers has one river, the Kaweah, pronounced “kuh-WEE-uh”. Four forks come together into the Middle Fork, but apparently only three mattered when it was time to name the town. (No, I don’t know which three.) Middle, Marble, East, South, and North are the names of the various branches.
A week or two ago, I learned that the brother of two of my former drawing students took on something called a “bridge project”. He was commissioned to create four 2×2′ tile mosaics to decorate a new bridge somewhere in the county. I asked around and concluded it must be the bailey bridge at the upper end of South Fork Road. So, Trail Guy and I went exploring.
You can see evidence of the SQF Complex fire that burned a lot of South Fork, threatened Three Rivers, Case Mt. and Mineral King
Here is the bridge, going in just upstream of the old bailey bridge, and still just one lane wide:
You can watch Nate Norman talk about making these tiles on this YouTube video. (You might want to fast forward past the first few minutes of someone talking about Arts Consortium business and get right to Nate’s presentation.)
I did a screen shot from the video to show you one of his truly beautiful mosaics. As someone who has experimented with tile mosaic in the past, I can assure you that this was no small undertaking. 
We drove up near the bridge, but it was being worked on so I just took a couple of photos. I am guessing the tiles will go on each of 4 main pillars, one of which I have circled the spot in red for you.
The bridge is about 11 miles up South Fork Road, and I think the campground is one mile farther. We didn’t cross the bridge, but headed back down. It was such a beautiful day that I almost forgot about August. And heat. And smoke. And smog.
There were poppies, but they were closed up due to the overcast day. However, I did get this poor photo of a few wildflowers by kneeling in the mud on the side of the road.
You are welcome.
I do what I can to find the beauty in Tulare County, but not so much that people will flock here. Remember, we are uneducated, poor, unemployed, fat, and diabetic. Oh, and there is that bad air filtering down through the Altamont Pass from the Bay Area for which we get penalized. Further, there is no Trader Joe’s and never will be.
Just keeping it real.
