Once again we ventured to a favorite hide-away in the Klamath Mountains, on the Trinity River between Redding and Eureka, if you know the area (or even if you don’t). We loaded the van with all our art-making materials, including Anne’s portable press. It’s portable because it can be lifted, though it takes both of us, unlike her main one which never leaves the studio.
For a view of the area we were in, here’s a painting made this time but from a photo shot last time we were here, then in the fall season.
This time, being winter, we came prepared with chains, what with rain drenching the state, and in the mountains, snow. But we never used them and the drive in was spectacular, like here passing by Whiskeytown Lake.
A view from our lodging, a not-so distant ridge, snow covered, drenched in light. It’s no wonder they call these mountains the Trinity Alps.
It’s also no wonder that, when we tell friends where we stay, that they’ve never heard of it. We never saw the 38 people.
We had rain more than snow, including some days with neither. Either way, our cottage was cozy.
Almost every day I found new places to hike. I never saw anyone else.
But, on the first day, setting up, there was a problem; we’d not brought the press bed, here shown without it. The bed is the long board that carries the substrate (the paper) and necessary for the press to function.
Confident that there’s a solution for every problem, and that, near by, I found an old board at an abandoned shack and, with a borrowed table saw, cut it to size.
Now it works, the press with its newly configured bed (the blue board), ready to go.
Anne at her press, preparing to put a new layer on one of her pieces. She was at it eight or ten hours a day, for the two weeks and a day we were there.
Across the room is my half of the “studio” with the beginning stages of a new piece.
One day I invited the grounds man in out of the rain. Recently from Ethiopia, he was delighted to see the painting I was working on, a girl from Ethiopia!
As Anne would make progress on a piece she’d set it out to dry, or tape it to a wall.
Here’s Anne’s work table, with her portable cabinet for inks and brayers and linoleum linocuts and everything else.
Only one day did we go out, for a post office run at nearby Junction City, a place with one store and no other occupied building at all.
While there we had “dinner out,” dining on a styrofoam bowl of chili (“world famous”) at the only restaurant table in town.
The one other building in town seems to be permanently closed. Too bad, what with lots of character.
We saw almost no one the whole time, but when we did they tended to look something like this.
Or this.
I painted mostly on unstretched canvas, taped up to a board. The board was also a find at the abandoned cabin where I found what became the press bed.
Of the 24 paintings I made during the time, four of them were these large floral pieces.
For me, the key to getting much done was the schedule I made for myself ahead of time. The I filled it in, journal-like, each day as I went.
Every day I took a hike, sometimes long, one day worrying Anne when I was gone so long. I didn’t know when I left that I’d be attempting to find the top of our mountain behind us. As it turned out, there was no top, not that I could find. Anne was much relieved when I finally returned.
Here’s a very brief overview of the work Anne accomplished and shown on the last day.
And here’s a short video of my work.
Until next time.
