June 19, 2021

At the beginning of the week I found myself wondering what to share today. I went to the Descanso Gardens last Saturday morning, and wandered around. I did some sketching, but nothing really moved me to write about. Oh, don’t get me wrong, I enjoyed my time at the Descanso, as is my usual. They have some funny displays for summer that include a huge model of a trap door spider half buried in the ground, a larger than life oak gall that’s been painted bright red and hanging from an oak branch, life-size and oversized models of butterflies all around, and hovering/emerging from the water in the front pond is a giant dragon fly beside a dragon fly nymph respectively. Even with all those thought provoking items I found myself thinking was a children’s picture book I had started in the late 90s and early 2000s, very much like my bunny book (see 4/10/2021 post). And for some reason I thought I had given that book the title, One California Girl. Weird huh? Indeed, it would be very odd if I had used that same name over 20 years ago and only just remembered doing that. I had done some sketches and completed a thumbnail for a 40 page picture book that I was sure I had entitled On CA Girl. I had a good idea as to which portfolio I would find all of that and went looking for it. It was where I expected, and I was actually relieved that it had a different title—The Native Californian. I remember that I was kind of obsessed with native CA plants at the time and since I was also a native, it all just seemed like a good idea for a story. And I still love the idea for such a picture book. I must admit that what I wrote about then and now are very similar. For both the blog and the picture book I sketched/painted/rendered specific places in CA, told stories of my CA family as well as shared things that have always interested me about CA. However, The Native Californian was an imagined and partly real story of me as one 11-year-old CA girl. And as it was imagined as a book it had a definite beginning, middle and end. One California Girl doesn’t necessary run in such a linear way as I seem to drop myself into places and times in mostly CA, and each story is my response to a specific piece of art I have created. 

What you see here are a couple sketches I envisioned for the title page of The Native Californian. As I said, I was pretty obsessed with native plants at the time and the lettering for the title was done as native wildflowers with “Californian” as a car license plate. I know the sketch of the actual title is pretty light and might be hard to read. Sorry. I guess I never got around to inking it in—it’s still just what I wrote with a hard leaded pencil on graph paper all those years ago. The house you see here is real and can still be found in Atascadero. It belongs to my son’s great aunt. I did a couple versions of this house on the hill, and thought it would be interesting to share both. (Both were done with quite a fine point black ink pen.)

I don’t plan to share the whole story here like I did with my thumbnails for another idea I had for a picture book (see July 28, 2018, Life on the Farm: A tale of the magical reality in my CA life). I’ve always loved this house, and my son’s great aunt still lives there. You may have noticed that it looks a bit like a boat, and in fact it was constructed to look like Noah’s ark. However, it has never looked like it’s floating in a sea of sunflowers—I imagined that. Actually, on that side of the house there is a huge expanse of asphalt that leads to her basement. It’s where my son’s great aunt dries out her walnut crop each year. Once they are dry she bags them up and sells them to a variety of people as well as to the folks at farmer’s market in San Luis Obispo. Even though she doesn’t have flowers that close to the house she often has sunflowers somewhere in her garden. One year she had quite a sunflower patch on the hill behind the house. But that particular year she had also planted hot pink hollyhocks with the sunflowers. What a sight! It’s funny, I have never shown her any of the art I did for the book. I even did her portrait…I wonder what she would think of her house floating in a sea of sunflowers and hollyhocks? But she’s just another native CA girl from the country and would think that was nonsense. “Where would I dry my walnuts?”

Went to the Descanso Gardens with my urban sketching group today. That was great! It was so fun to see everybody—there must have 20 of us. There was even a 3 foot rattlesnake in the roses. (Not kidding!) I didn’t draw the snake, but did a rather nice watercolor of the roses climbing a nearby arbor. I’ll share it next time. I wonder if someone sketched the snake? Stay tuned…

June 12, 2021

In the fall of 2018 I found myself at the entrance to the Descanso Gardens, studying a large and unusual autumn sculpture made from the woody bits of palm trees, called bracts. Such bracts surround the flower spikes (inflorescence) of a palm tree and are normally way up at the top of mature and tall palms. However, such palm tree bits often drop to the ground—especially on windy days. Each bract and inflorescence can grow to be pretty long up there. And the display I was looking at had many individual bracts that were at least 6 feet in length. Each one had been spray painted a wonderfully bright color, then layered one on top of the other to form tall organic columns. On the ground and all around these colorful piles of SoCal palm tree detritus were lots of bright orange pumpkins. It was very dramatic. I wasn’t sure if I could recreate the display, but knew I wanted to do something like it for my 2018 outdoor holiday display. Once I left the Descanso I began to look around for interesting and usable palm tree parts that had fallen to the ground. Palm trees are pretty common here in SoCal, so I hoped I would find what I was looking for just laying around. That Thanksgiving I went to visit my aunt and uncle in Long Beach and saw great piles of palm tree bits in the streets and yards of their Belmont Shore neighborhood. (We had had a major storm and the wild winds snapped off just what I was looking for.) I picked through the damp mess and made a pile of bracts/flower stems I wanted to take home. As it turned out, they were pretty heavy and I had to drag the stash to my car in several loads. Once I got them home, I let them dry out and sprayed painted each one metallic gold. Then I placed them around my front door and windows. The gold was not as dramatic as the bright colors I had seen earlier, and my display didn’t look like much from the street. But, once you got up close it was much more interesting, or so I kept telling myself! In the end I had to admit that it looked quite underwhelming and I should have put all of it in the green waste after the holidays. But they were too long to fit easily into the cans, and I didn’t want to go to the trouble of cutting them down. So I tucked them away in the garage for another day of ?? 

Fast forward to spring break April 2021. Some of my climbing plants (specifically my moonflower morning glory) had greened up and were looking for something to climb. I found myself again looking at the palm bracts/flower stems that had gathered quite a bit of dust in my garage and decided they might be interesting to use for just that purpose. I brushed them off, got out my saw to cut each one down a bit, then I placed them near the climbing morning glory. Looking at the art I have shared here today, you may have guessed, something unseen by me, must have also been looking for a place to climb.  

I didn’t see the chrysalis for this specific monarch butterfly until the 8th, but there it was nonetheless. Once I see something that’s so bright and obvious I am astounded that I didn’t notice it earlier. But maybe it’s best if such events are not always evident to us mortals. We don’t need to see or know everything. However, once I caught on that monarch caterpillars from a nearby milkweed plant might be looking for a place to climb I monitored this very palm tree flower spike daily. 

And guess what? On May 19 I saw another monarch caterpillar that had clearly climbed the same palm tree flower spike. It had attached itself to a spike tip that was very close to the first chrysalis. However, this one had not yet magically cloaked itself into a sparkly green shell, but by the next day it had changed. I am pleased to report this one finished its metamorphosis just as the other one had. But I didn’t get to see this one crawl out its chrysalis skin. As I said, I don’t need to see or know everything. I was just thrilled the caterpillars had found a safe place to continue their life cycles—sending yet other lovely monarch butterflies into the world. I guess I’m glad I didn’t bin those palm tree flower spikes after all.

However, I must report that one of my squirrels and her two babies seem to enjoy climbing the palm tree bracts against a post, across from the chrysalis. It appears that with this additional height, a leap into the air could result in contact with the bird feeder, which might result in a bonanza of sunflower seeds on the ground. I’ve hear them banging around out there, trying to launch themselves from the golden holiday palm bracts. I already know too much about what’s going on, I can’t look…

June 6, 2021

Artistic cats and random COVID masks…

This is a painting I did of a friend’s kitties in 2016. (Their names were Matisse, Picasso and Georgia—yes, Georgia as in Georgia O’Keefe.) I saw it hanging in their house the other day and realized I had never taken a photo of the finished piece (oil on birch panel). So, I took it off the wall and took this picture for my records and to share here. If you have been following my blog this grouping may look a little familiar. Before doing the painting I did a finished sketch as well as a quick color test sketch. I always do a finished sketch for a painting, but don’t always experiment with colors the way I did for this one—see November 1, 2020.

I don’t have much to say this week, other than my usual highs and lows with global, local and personal events. Suffice it to say that I spent much of the week and yesterday trying to perfect the perfect boule using Nancy Silverton’s starter recipe. And I was still trying to get the bread to properly ferment last night at 10 pm so I could set it to proofing. It did neither and I went to bed. Then the power went off for several hours this morning, so I went to the Descanso Gardens to reflect on all things not related to bread and the possibility of food spoiling in my frig.

However, looking at this piece of art makes me happy. I distinctly remember having great fun working out how to render the fur of these three lovely silverpoint Siamese. And believe it or not, there is a connection between the art and the following photo.

I used some kitties and puppies at a birthday party themed fabric to make some masks at the very beginning of the pandemic. This was back in the days before they were as common as they are now. The pattern I used was from a New York Times article I found online (from March 31, 2020). I made a couple more with this very fabric, but only had enough elastic on hand for this one. I had to make cloth straps for the others. I gave the non-elastic strapped masks to the owners of Matisse, Picasso and Georgia. (I ordered more elastic and later updated the masks for my friends.). And before getting vaccinated, and we found ourselves at an appropriate distance apart, we would wear our “kitty” masks. I will miss those days. Do you think I really mean that? Am I crazy? Of course, there is nothing I will miss about worrying, staying a measured distance from my friends and wearing a mask where ever I went–even one made with such cute kitty and puppy fabric.