A Big Fat Zerio in Indio

San Jacinto Mountains

Oil on canvas, 10x10

Argh. I had such high hopes for the show in Indio, California. And the reality dashed them all. Not one painting sold. Not. One. 

It was the first show of the season! I have wonderful new work! It was in California!  

But the fact was that people weren't buying. Not just not buying my stuff, but not buying, pretty much in general. So I will do my best to not take it personally, and I will get on out and paint, which is my main purpose in being here, anyways. 

I did make some new artist friends, and that was great. Here's Judy, who had one of the booths across from me. She makes leather bags, wallets, backpacks, etc., and they are just gorgeous. When she's on the road, she sleeps in her utility trailer! She has a sewing machine in there, too. She'll be at the show in Tubac, along with Charlene, who was beside Judy and directly across from me. 

Above are some of the glass pieces Charlene made

I did have a weekend of sunny and warm - even hot - weather, and that was also great. I met some nice people who responded well to my art - they just didn't buy it. 

And I made this painting, which I love. Indio is at the base of a couple of mountain ranges, including this one, the San Jacinto. The mountains are steep and big and tall, and beautiful. Today, I'm planning on driving through them, on my way to the Pacific, which I think I should see, as long as I'm out here. 

Here's the view of the mountains I painted during the show. 

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Mountains on the road from California to Arizona

I saw beautiful road art on the drive from Arizona to California. I think these were near Phoenix

A sign in the lobby of the scruffy hotel where I'm staying...

LaQuinta is the next town up, and it's very pretty

The sky Friday night, just outside the show grounds. 

In the East, I'm one of the artists with big work. Out here, I'm not - by a long shot! 

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Dog of the Day

Dogs were not allowed in the show, but I found this one just outside of the parking lot. She spent the day in air-conditioned happiness in the artist's trailer, with the artist's husband...

On the High Road to Patagonia - and in the Town, Too

On the High Road to Patagonia

Oil on canvas, 10x10

What a great day I had on Monday! I was set to go to Tucson to get my Arizona tax ID number (somehow my application got lost... ) - and then I remembered it was Martin Luther King Day, and all the government offices were closed. 

So instead, I painted. I headed to the Patagonia/Sonoita area, a hilly region with mountains in the background, and in the foreground, the amazing yellow grass that I love so very much. 

Also, my dad and Paula and their hiking group were out in the Sonoita hills, so we made plans to meet at a restaurant in the cool little town of Patagonia. 

If Peter and I lived out here, Patagonia is where we'd live. There are about 900 people there - a metropolis by Wachapreague standards!  There are two galleries - one is a community-centered gallery with tons of programs. There are a number of shops, two grocery stores (looks like one is an organic/coop kind of place), at least two restaurants and a hotel. There's a post office, a police station, a radio station, a yoga place, a bakery and what looks like a building being renovated, with room for studios and shops and the like. There's a school, a bird sanctuary, and heaven knows what else. 

As I waited for my dad and Paula and the group, a feisty Chihuaha - an unneutered male - pranced up the sidewalk. People were calling to him, and reaching out for him, but he eluded all of them. And eluded me and my camera. A couple of kids came by and said his name was JoJo, and that he gets out all the time. Eventually, the dog catcher came by, asking if anyone had seen JoJo. 

A while later, a guy drove by on a four-wheeler, holding a white dog in his lap. They both looked pretty happy. 

I had a great time painting, taking photos and meeting the friends of my dad and Paula. Today, I head to Tucson, and tomorrow, California! 

Here's my painting in the landscape

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THANK YOU, EVERYONE, for weighing in on the Instant Claim idea. Some of you liked it, but more of you wanted to see all the paintings before choosing. So we will stick with the original plan! Next time, maybe, we'll try the instant claiming. 

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 Best Gas Station Ever! It's in Patagonia. 

 Here's the walkway in front of the Gathering Ground in Patagonia, where I met 

Dad and Paula's hiking friends. 

More Patagonia

Beautiful cliffs and gnarly trees on the way to Patagonia

Here's some of that gorgeous yellow grass. Look for this one to become a painting some day.

A house in Sonoita 

More of the mountains and grasslands near Patagonia

He's waiting for someone inside...

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Dogs of the Day

 

He's Bandito, though his owners call him "Bandit" when the Border Patrol is around! He's about 4, and was born and raised right in Patagonia. And he was a great dog! 

St. James Church - and the Last Leg of the First Leg

 St. James Church, oil on canvas, 10x10

Here's my painting in the landscape

After getting the oil changed and tires rotated on the big van, I had planned to leave Las Cruces Saturday in time to reach Tubac before dark. But I got on the wrong street, and when I turned the van around, I saw a church that called out to me. So I stopped and set up my easel and did the first painting of the trip. 

It felt great to paint! It felt like the beginning of restoring my self to myself, after all those days of driving. 

So I finished the painting and got back in the van and headed west. In an hour or so, the land opened in front of me in a cascade of blue mountains, under a blue sky with long thin clouds. I was mesmerized watching it, and thinking how beautiful it was. Then it occurred to me that - DUH! - I'm a painter, and I should stop and paint!  And so I did. 

Blue New Mexico Mountains
Oil on canvas, 10x20

                                          

                                                          Balloons in the sky over Las Cruces Saturday!

I pulled off the highway, and turned right. The pavement ended in 20 yards, and the road turned to dirt, and went off into the distance, disappearing into the prairie. I set up near some sort of utility building surrounded by chainlink fence topped with barbed wire. I'd just started painting when a guy in a car came along, wanting to know what I was doing. He said he lived down the road, in a house I couldn't see. 

It was fine that I was where I was, he said, but if I was there near dark, I should think about leaving. 

"Strange stuff happens here," he said. "Bad stuff like drug deals and stuff." 

I painted quickly. 

***

 

The sun, the sky, the rich colors of the landscape in New Mexico took my breath away. 

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Good to know that I can get STUFF at the Continental Divide. It would hardly be 

America if I couldn't! 

Really? Mom and Pop's Pyro Shop? Think this is a good idea? 

I saw this very close to the Continental Divide. If I go back the same way, I'm stopping in. 

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The dust storms along the highway in New Mexico are pretty monumental. Last year, I had to get off the road, the visibility was so low. My father tells me that every year, there's usually at least one enormous multi-car pileup because of blowing dust. 

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I think I was in Arizona when I took these last two photos. The grass in the high meadows is a marvelous shade of soft, buttery yellow. This photo comes close to showing it, but doesn't quite capture it. There's a lot of it in Sonoita, and I believe I am going there today to paint. 

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Sunset in Arizona was especially beautiful, as I knew that the longest leg of driving 

would be done by day's end.

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Dog of the Day (Night)

At a rest area in Arizona, I met Angie, who was a real sweetie. She and her human were from Fairfax, VA! Amazing! They were moving to California - well, they were moving for a month, to try it out, see if they liked it. It's a small world, indeed. 

I Saw Miles and Miles of Texas - 636.1 of Them, to Be Exact...

I spent Thursday night in Tyler, Texas, and spent the entire day Friday, a long day, driving across the Lone Star state. I drove all day, from 6:30 a.m. to 7:30 p.m., with an extra hour added in for a time change - so, 13 hours in Texas, with a frothy few 30 minutes or so in New Mexico. 

According to Wikipedia, there are 3,239.7 miles of interstate highway in Texas, and they are all maintained not by the USofA, but by Texas. YIKES!  The longest segment of Interstate Highway in Texas is I-10 at 878.6 miles; I-20 is 636.1 miles long. And I drove each one of those miles. 

People have asked how I stay awake, how I am not sleepy while I'm driving. Partly, I think, it's adrenaline. I'm excited to be traveling, I'm looking forward to seeing my dad and Paula, and I'm eager to get painting, and to start the shows. 

I listen to the radio, to my own tunes, to books on tape. And mostly, when it's safe, I look at the countryside. I watch for interesting things, wildlife, signs, people, cars. There's an awful lot of Texas that is straight and wide, and so the driving is easy. 

On some trips, I will get off the road and paint, or get off the road to take photos. I only did that once on Friday, to get the photo below. And it's still so far away that you can't see these birds. I think maybe they are sand hill cranes, but I couldn't tell. All I know is I've never seen birds like them. They're a little larger than Canada geese, and their necks are longer and thinner. They are a blue-gray color, and they're wary. 

***

Every time I have driven through Dallas, I've been delighted by the feel and the look of the highway overpasses. They are airy and soaring, and decorated, like this one. 

 I SPENT MUCH of Friday wondering why I have negative feelings about Texas. 

 

If I take it apart, bit by bit, it has a lot going for it. It is pretty in places - the Hill Country, for example. It's strong - Western Texas. It's bold in places, it's filled with beautiful colors. The sky is big and open, the vegetation is interesting. 

 

But in the middle, there is a lot of nothing - and it's not particularly enchanting nothing. I mean, I like landscapes with nothing in them except a strip of land and a strop of sky. In Texas, I think that part of the problem is that the nothing just goes on and on and on and on for hundreds of miles. And there's an incredible amount of trash. 

 

***

 

I SAW SOME signs that I couldn't manage to get photos of - they flew by too fast. But I made notes - 

 

The Silverado Cowboy Church. Yes! Really! 

 

A BILLBOARD purporting to be from God, telling us to "Stp ur txting and pray." 

 

I agree, we shouldn't text. But does God care? And how does whoever put up the sign dare to tell us that he knows what God wants? 

 

AND THEN, THERE was this one: "Auditions this month! Actors Models Talent for Christ"

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 OK, Do not Exit. That was followed quickly by the sign below.  

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I saw a fair number of junkyard-type places in Texas... the sort of place that would delight 

a person who makes art out of pieces of rusted metal. 

In western Texas, I whooped when I began to see the mountains of the West. It was pretty exciting to see them loom up out of the flat, open spaces around I-20. 

Here's a house in a pretty setting on the eastern side of the state. 

And a ranch. Doesn't everybody in Texas live on a ranch? 

I saw trains in the state that seemed to go on forever and forever. 

And this, I thought, was interesting - two crops, the old and the new. Hay and wind power. 

I thought this field was pretty beautiful, rich with color and texture. This will become a painting 

one of these days

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Dog of the Day

Love the shearling-lined vest!