Here is the final Wilsonia winter cabin drawing. This two-story cabin looks to be only one story high in the deep snow of whichever winter this was. As with the other two snow drawings, the photo was provided by the cabin owner because there weren’t any real winters while I was working on the book.
I found it to be quite interesting that all three cabins in snow are next to each other.
This cabin is on Mason, and is next to the cabin on Lilac.
Why are doors such an interesting subject for art?
Because they are inviting, and they suggest something mysterious or welcoming beyond. . . any other theories?
Wilsonia is a collection a great doors, in addition to being a collection of great cabins.
Do you recognize any of these doors? More coming in 2 weeks. . .
Not one-story.
I looked up “cabin” on my Mac. The dictionary on my computer has fairly useless definitions as far as our discussion is concerned.
Cabin may refer to:
- Beach cabin, a small wooden hut on a beach
- Log cabin, a house built from logs
- Chalet, a wooden mountain house with a sloping roof
- Small remote mansion (Western Canada)
- Small, free-standing structures that serve as individual lodging spaces of a motel
- Cottage, a small house
Forget that. Where’s my real Webster’s dictionary?? Mine was published in 2004 rather than 1935. Oh good grief, look at this: “A small, simple, one-story house.”
That’s it? Au contraire! (Is that how you say “You are wrong” in French?)
Too stylish to be considered “simple”.
A few folks checked in on my other blog with their thoughts on what a cabin is. One suggested “primitive”; another said a place to get away from every day life; someone else put forth the idea that a cabin is a state of mind. “Non-fancy” is a good description, and another added gave a description of an ideal cabin. She used the word “spare”, which could mean an extra home or it could mean without clutter. (I’ve seen some pretty cluttered cabins, and I have lived in a cabin when it was my only place of residence.)
To be continued next week (and feel free to share your thoughts on what makes a cabin in the comments, under “Leave a Reply”!)
This cabin steps and chair look so inviting; I never saw anyone in residence there but did meet an owner at another cabin.
Something about a chair or bench on a porch is so inviting. One of the established but unwritten elements of cabin etiquette is that if someone is sitting on the deck, it is okay to stop and chat from the road. They can invite you up or not, but it is always good to exchange greetings as you pass by folks just sitting around.
This cabin belonged to some friends of my parents, but they were no longer around when I began work on the book.
A built-in bench? Why not, if it can handle a heavy snow year.
A few weeks ago, I received an order from someone I’ve never met for several copies of The Cabins of Wilsonia.
It is always good to know how people find the book, so I asked this customer. Here is what she said:
I had been reading about your book project for awhile in the Wilsonia Times newsletter. We hadn’t been able to get to the cabin for a few years, but we were finally able to go last week. Someone bought a copy of your book to keep at the cabin and that is where I read it, which was perfect.
I love the writing and the sketches are exquisite. I like how you combined sketches of cabins with architectural details and elements of the natural surroundings. It really captures the essence of Wilsonia. I ordered a copy for myself and some for my daughters and for friends who enjoy going up there with us. Thank you so much for taking on that project and executing it so beautifully.
Aw shucks. Thank you, Lisa! Thank you for appreciating the variety in the drawings, all the efforts I put into showing details and backgrounds and getting people to tell me about their cabin experiences. My goal was to “capture the essence of Wilsonia”, and it means a ton to me that the book does that for you!
But wait! There’s more. . . chairs, that is.
There are several reoccurring themes in the book, but we’ll continue to focus on chairs for awhile.
A blog reader might reach the conclusion that folks in Wilsonia just sit around.
Brings to mind something my weird old uncle said once: “I can only sit in one chair at a time”. Brilliant observation, Uncle!
Do I have an obsession with chairs? It is possible.
Have a look at some of my favorite pencil drawings from The Cabins of Wilsonia. (The reason I have to reannounce the title of the book is so that anyone asking The Google about it will have a better chance of locating it. Tech. . . sigh.)
There are plenty more, but now I want to show you the chair in my studio. It is a recent addition, so I feel quite happy about it. It is the blue one, and the first day I sat in it to do computer work, I fell asleep! (I am quite happy about the wooden one too, but it has been here since 2002 when I moved my studio into this little building.)
My young cats feel quite happy about it too.
During the months of July and August, I don’t give drawing lessons. I do stay in touch with my drawing students, because we almost always become friends and every one of them is dear to me.
One of my students emailed me over the summer to say he attended a wedding in Wilsonia! He then told me of the delightful folks that he met who said nice things about me and invited me to return. (Aw, shucks. . .)
I haven’t returned in body, but I am slowly returning in my heart.
This is the cabin where the wedding took place. During most of my time in Wilsonia while working on The Cabins of Wilsonia, this place was referred to as “the Plywood Palace” because it was under construction.
The reconstruction obviously was finished. It is now large, beautiful (shingle siding is my favorite), and must have been an excellent venue for a wedding.
This past spring, some people I have known my entire adult life bought a cabin in Wilsonia. They already are part of a shared family cabin, but those situations are rarely ideal for an expanding family.
These folks have been a large part of my family’s life for many years. The man was in my older sister’s wedding in 1979; the couple’s daughter roomed with my niece in Visalia for several years; the couple hosted my younger sister’s daughter’s wedding at a moment’s notice (the story is here); in 2016 we all went to Israel together (part of that story is here.)
You’ve probably heard me say many times that Tulare County is very small. Yeppers, it is.
The cabin my friends bought is directly across the street from the cabin where I spent most of my Wilsonia time. It is one that has generated a great deal of curiosity through the years. The new cabin owners have the ability to make a silk purse out of a sow’s ear, and this cabin was never a sow’s ear to begin with.
I expect it will be a real show piece, a traffic stopper, and a magnet for looky-loos, one of whom will be me.
After a rough start of a missed deadline, wrong address and incorrect face of a cabin, this is the completed commissioned pencil cabin drawing of a Wilsonia cabin.
What a long long sentence. A picture is worth 1000 words.
