Tuesday, January 27, 2009

"Camp On Stampede Trail"


"We can never have enough of nature. We must be refreshed by the sight of inexhaustible vigor, vast and titanic features, the sea-coast with its wrecks, the wilderness with its living and decaying trees, the thunder-cloud, and the rain." ~Henry David Thoreau

"Camp On Stampede Trail", 2008, Oil On Canvas, 9"x7" was a present to my dear friend Ed who accompanied me out to Bus 142 on The Stampede Trail in the Alaskan Interior. You can read about our entire journey here and also when I returned to the bus, by helicopter a week later here.

This little painting represents a very special time, one of those journeys that stays close to your heart and never far from your mind. Ed kindly offered to take me out to where Chris McCandless spent the last four months of his life in 1992, a place where he communed with nature and lived out his philosophy until his tragic passing in August 1992. Many have traveled to the bus where Chris spent his time, so for Ed to help me get there the hard way, over land, was truly wonderful. 

Ed is an enthusiastic outdoor adventurer and he loves to pack very lightly. It makes sense really, as there is less wear and tear on your body. The tent that you see in the painting did not reach to the ground and only weighed 1 lb. You can also see our sleeping bags and some of the rest of our things beside the tent. I remember the yellow orange glow of his tent against the cool greens and muted tones of the surrounding landscape and had to capture some reference. It was about 9pm when we set up camp but the sun was pretty high still and really did not entirely go down until around 11:30pm.  

We spent a good portion of our time on that gravel bar beyond the bus. We did not want to be in the way if others should visit Bus 142  while we were there. Oddly enough, when I returned on impulse to the same spot the week following my trek out with Ed, there was an army helicopter "parked" right where our camp had been. It was quite surreal and brought civilization right into this relatively remote place, 20 miles off of the George Parks Highway. 

I am not being melodramatic here when I declare that visiting Alaska changed my life. I am a figure painter primarily, and yet between visiting Alaska in August 2008 and Newfoundland in September 2008 I have been surrounded by landscapes that cannot help but be painted. I will certainly return to the figure but for now, landscapes dominate my mind when it comes to subject matter. Yet we are within those landscapes, our bodies and minds exist within that time and space, often within a visual field too large and beautiful to fully process. 

I believe that technique is what coheres a painter's work. A mountain, and eyelid and a wrench are all very different obviously, but it is HOW they are painted that connects them. I will take the same approach when painting my landscape pieces as I would to painting the folds of a sheet. 

"Camp On Stampede Trail" is small but mighty to me. It is a thank-you to Ed, a little reminder of our time spent living in the moment, paddling across a river that would sweep us away if it had the chance, climbing mile after mile to our destination...for the road is just as important as what lies at the end of it, if there ever is an end.

"Wilderness is not a luxury but a necessity of the human spirit."~Edward Abbey

If you are interested in reading about my entire journey out to Bus 142 along the Stampede Trail please check out "Journey to Bus 142" and "Journey to Bus 142: Redux" from my other blog "Heather's Paintings And Musings". 

I am going to be doing more paintings about my voyage to Bus 142 within the next year, as well creating more paintings from Chris McCandless' own pictures taken along his 2 year journey as well. It is a huge honor and I look forward to continuing these bodies of work.

Here are some sections of paintings that will appear in my solo show on Newfoundland in November at Abbozzo Gallery in Oakville, Ontario. 


I am working steadily on new pieces each day. It will be an exciting show! You can find out more information about the exhibition on my website here. One of the paintings has already sold and the show is still 10 months away! If you are interested in seeing the pieces please contact Abbozzo Gallery. The show will run from November 5-22, 2009 with the opening reception happening on November 6th from 7-10pm. I hope to see you there!
 


Have a wonderful day,

Heather

Sunday, January 25, 2009

"Anxiety Is The Hand Maiden To Creativity"

"Self With Shadow", 2008, 22"x28", oil on canvas


"The madness of depression is the antithesis of violence. It is a storm indeed, but a storm of murk. Soon evident are the slowed-down responses, near paralysis, psychic energy throttled back close to zero. Ultimately, the body is affected and feels sapped, drained."~William Styron

Recently I was asked to illustrate an article by the author and essayist William Styron, who passed away in 2006. The assignment could not have come at a more appropriate time. Styron  wrote about his personal experience with clinical depression so eloquently in his book "Darkness Visible". It made a huge impression on me, as I have suffered periodic bouts with depression and anxiety over my lifetime. 

I am honored to do this illustration, which is for a dog magazine called "The Bark". Keep an eye out for it on your local book stand in the future. It will be a portrait of a man walking his dog, simple enough, but hopefully it will have some weight given the wonderful text next to it.

There is still a lot of stigma attached to mental illness. I suppose it is rote to expect an artist to suffer some sort of psychological affliction if they are to get anything of substance accomplished. I have not asked many of my colleagues but I would bet that the incidence of depression and anxiety is no larger in them than in the general population. Of course this is pure supposition, but my own experience with depression and anxiety is acutely real.

I write about my own history with inner turmoil here because I think writing and sharing is cathartic. It gives one a sense of lightness to discuss what ails you. Perhaps some readers can identify with me. 

In terms of its connection to creativity, many would argue as T.S. Eliot does that "anxiety is the hand maiden to creativity". I do think that anxiety can be helpful in that you tend to get things done simply out of a nervous freneticism, but when it reaches its zenith you suffer and are literally frozen by your worries. Personally I find that when anxiety reaches this point I literally cannot paint. My mind sabotages my entire being and I am quite helpless until I figure out a way to overcome the situation. It is a battle, and I wish desperately that I did not have anxiety but I do think we are hardwired psychologically to a large extent. I know that there has been a hereditary link drawn with depression for example. So the question is: how to prevail over it?

Thus, if our minds are to a large extent as unique as our fingerprints, and as intractable, we really have to get creative if we want to overcome what haunts us. Exercise is my mental panacea. It distracts me. That is imperative with anxiety. I talk to friends; I take myself out of isolation, because that is where it really gets a grip on you, when you are alone. You can see a pattern here as, being an artist, I spend a heck of a lot of time alone. Ironically too, I cherish my solitary time, but this is the price I pay.

I have created some artwork while in the midst of turmoil. Two pieces are included below as examples. However, most of my work is not as overt, the inner strife is hidden behind the faces of my subjects, myself included. I do this because as I have said before, I want the viewer to wonder, to not have answers provided. Therefore they have to instill their own individual experience into the painting by providing personal context.

"Self-Portrait, Poignant", 2008, 8"x6", oil on canvas


"Self-Portrait, Between", 2005, oil on canvas, 16"x20"


With anxiety and depression the key is to get on top of the circular thinking, the what-if scenarios, and stop the thoughts in their tracks so that I can get on with doing what I love to do: creating art.

I realize that I will probably always struggle with anxiety, and depression to a lesser degree. If it must be however, I will equip myself with the strongest tools possible to get through it. Tireless support from loved ones is invaluable. Thank-you. You know who you are. I suppose I should be thankful and embrace these trials of the mind really. They are who I am, and I wouldn't want to be anyone else. 

"Do not anticipate trouble, or worry about what may never happen. Keep in the sunlight."~Benjamin Franklin


Here are some snippets of paintings that will appear in my solo show on Newfoundland in November at Abbozzo Gallery in Oakville, Ontario. I am working steadily on new pieces each day. It will be an exciting show! You can find out more information about the exhibition on my website here. One of the paintings has already sold and the show is still 10 months away! If you are interested in seeing the pieces please contact Abbozzo Gallery.




On another note, Bravo! Canada filmed a special profiling my work in 2007. It will be airing on Bravo! Channel all across Canada on Monday, February 9th at 8:30am Eastern Standard Time. I hope you are able to catch it! It is on at an odd time but thank goodness for PVRs.

Have a wonderful day,

Heather

"Every experience is a paradox in that it means to be absolute, and yet is relative; in that it somehow always goes beyond itself and yet never escapes itself."~T.S. Eliot


Tuesday, January 20, 2009

"Wyll, Madison Avenue"

"My friends are my estate"~Emily Dickinson

Emily Dickinson said it best. As a reclusive woman, her friends were very important to her. As an only child, my cousins and friends are my siblings. 
"Wyll, Madison Avenue", 2009, 12"x16", oil on panel, is a painting of one of my dear childhood friends who I have known since grade 7.
I have painted Wyll three times over the years, and I have included these paintings below. 

True friends are separated by neither time nor geography. They simply are a part of you, and you of them. True friends are weavers; when you meet after a long absence the threads of your lives are quickly woven together so that soon your dialogue flows freely and your only enemy is the clock, indicating when you must part again. 

There's a certain comfort in spending time with someone with whom you share a history. Its like a secret that you both carry with you as you walk along the street, as Wyll and I did leading up to the reference shots for this painting. It is as though your combined force can take on the world, that this bond is greater than the relationships of the multitudes who pass by on the street.

Wyll and I used to work on a ranch together, leading trail rides and relishing our time with the animals there. We worked for nothing, simply the freedom of having our own hour of time at the end of the day to ride whichever horse we chose. Money was irrelevant.  We were young, fearless and acutely alive.

But here we are now years later, in the depths of winter in Toronto. We walked up a side street off of Bloor and I took some shots to consider for paintings. I edited out some elements that I did not want to paint in the finished piece. It was freezing that day but we were warm, and the energy from our conversation over lunch sustained us, keeping the cold at bay. 

I used a lot of blue in the rendering of the snow. I paint rather expressively in that I have not the patience to render each window, each brick in the distance, each blade of grass,  but prefer to capture the value, shape and impression of the landscape while focusing with more detail on the figure, the subject of the piece.

Wyll is brilliant. She is someone who listens and gives beautifully insightful advice, provides inspiration to me as a person and artist, and truly makes the world a more beautiful place with her in it. I am thankful to know her. We are both only children and solitary by nature, yet this fact strengthens our kinship. We have a silent symbiosis which is rare and I appreciate deeply.

Here are two other paintings of Wyll I did in 2005. I will write about them individually at a later time but it shows how people and artists change, how technique shifts and personalities coalesce. Friendships, like everything in life, constantly evolve, so that, as T.S. Eliot once wrote "we shall not cease from exploration, and at the end of our exploring will be to arrive where we started and know the place for the first time." 
  
"Bloor Street West Café", 2005, oil on canvas, 10"x30"


"New Place", 2005, oil on canvas, 16"x20"


Here are some snippets of paintings that will appear in my solo show on Newfoundland in November at Abbozzo Gallery in Oakville, Ontario. I am working steadily on new pieces each day. It will be an exciting show! You can find out more information about the exhibition on my website here. One of the paintings has already sold and the show is still 10 months away! If you are interested in seeing the pieces please contact Abbozzo Gallery




On another note, Bravo! Canada filmed a special profiling my work in 2007. It will be airing on Bravo! Channel all across Canada on Monday, February 9th at 8:30am Eastern Standard Time. I hope you are able to catch it! It is on at an odd time but thank goodness for PVRs.

Have a wonderful day,

Heather

"Every experience is a paradox in that it means to be absolute, and yet is relative; in that it somehow always goes beyond itself and yet never escapes itself."~T.S. Eliot

Friday, January 16, 2009

Andrew Wyeth: Paying Respect To A Fallen Giant

"Master Bedroom" by Andrew Wyeth


"It's a shock for me to go through and see all those years of painting my life, which is very personal for me. It's a very difficult thing for an artist to look back at his work." ~Andrew Wyeth

Today the world lost one of its greatest painters. Andrew Wyeth passed away this morning at the ripe old age of 91. What a full life, and what a gift he shared with us. His artistic opus spans decades. He has given the world some of the most beautiful paintings I have set my eyes upon. Wyeth was a realist painter of the highest calibre, a seeker of truth within the details, a patient draftsman and unwavering devotee to his work.

There are two books that sit next to my easel. One is a book of Lucien Freud paintings. The other one is an autobiography of Andrew Wyeth. In this book he examines each of his paintings and discusses how and why he did them, impressions and reflections on the pieces etc. It is wonderful to read how his mind works, how he solves problems, mistakes that were made and corrected and the overall emotional impact of the piece on him.

I use these books as touchstones. They are friends and inspiration never more than an arm's reach away. I might not look at them for months, but they are there, a constant reminder of what can be accomplished with hard work and dedication. I am more influenced by Freud from a technical standpoint and Wyeth touches me on a more emotional level. Freud is the man of nudes, and I rarely paint the nude figure. Clothes are more mysterious to me anyway from a symbolic standpoint. Freud is unrelenting, a genius of colour and paint application and his work ethic is simply second to none.

Wyeth however, scratches an altogether different creative itch. He is a man of emotion...yet hidden emotion; subdued, just out of reach. His paintings of solitary figures striding across snow-covered landscapes are truly haunting. There is a melancholia that pervades his work, a wistfulness and an echo of times past that we can see through rusty doors, the chipped paint of a windowsill, the tattered lace of a curtain blowing in the wind. At times I find his work so poignant that I cannot look at it for long, it brings to the surface my natural inclination to ruminate and I have to keep that in check.

Here are three paintings from my work that are strongly influenced by Wyeth:

"Back Stairs, Oil On Canvas, 36"x24"

"The Rasberry House", oil on canvas, 15"x30"

"Rob, Drifting", oil on canvas, 48"x36"

Technically his work is unsurpassed. I personally adore his watercolours but his tempera pieces are beyond measure. Even if I could paint that well, I have not the patience for the unbelievable details that he achieves. Truly his work is timeless. I love how his figures rarely look right at the viewer. His compositions are fantastic with a lovely balance through negative space. The seemingly arbitrary loose brushstrokes in some of his studies are far from haphazard. They serve to provide texture and movement to his work.

"Farm Road" by Andrew Wyeth

I could speak all day about this man who has shaped me as an artist over the years. Although I never met him, we are connected. His work resonates with me on a metaphysical level. I too seek to paint absence, to paint what lies beneath the expression, to create a world just out of sight. Thank-you Andrew Wyeth. Although you are gone, your work will continue to reverberate within myself and so many others.

"I get letters from people about my work. The thing that pleases me most is that my work touches their feelings. In fact, they don't talk about the paintings. They end up telling me the story of their life or how their father died."~Andrew Wyeth

On another note, Bravo! Canada filmed a special profiling my work in 2007. It will be airing on Bravo! Channel all across Canada on Monday, February 9th at 8:30am Eastern Standard Time. I hope you are able to catch it! It is on at an odd time but thank goodness for PVRs.

Dwell in possibility,

Heather


Andrew Wyeth: Paying Respect To A Fallen Giant

"Master Bedroom" by Andrew Wyeth


"It's a shock for me to go through and see all those years of painting my life, which is very personal for me. It's a very difficult thing for an artist to look back at his work." ~Andrew Wyeth

Today the world lost one of its greatest painters. Andrew Wyeth passed away this morning at the ripe old age of 91. What a full life, and what a gift he shared with us. His artistic opus spans decades. He has given the world some of the most beautiful paintings I have set my eyes upon. Wyeth was a realist painter of the highest calibre, a seeker of truth within the details, a patient draftsman and unwavering devotee to his work. 

There are two books that sit next to my easel. One is a book of Lucien Freud paintings. The other one is an autobiography of Andrew Wyeth. In this book he examines each of his paintings and discusses how and why he did them, impressions and reflections on the pieces etc. It is wonderful to read how his mind works, how he solves problems, mistakes that were made and corrected and the overall emotional impact of the piece on him. 

I use these books as touchstones. They are friends and inspiration never more than an arm's reach away. I might not look at them for months, but they are there, a constant reminder of what can be accomplished with hard work and dedication. I am more influenced by Freud from a technical standpoint and Wyeth touches me on a more emotional level. Freud is the man of nudes, and I rarely paint the nude figure. Clothes are more mysterious to me anyway from a symbolic standpoint. Freud is unrelenting, a genius of colour and paint application and his work ethic is simply second to none. 

Wyeth however, scratches an altogether different creative itch. He is a man of emotion...yet hidden emotion; subdued, just out of reach. His paintings of solitary figures striding across snow-covered landscapes are truly haunting. There is a melancholia that pervades his work, a wistfulness and an echo of times past that we can see through rusty doors, the chipped paint of a windowsill, the tattered lace of a curtain blowing in the wind. At times I find his work so poignant that I cannot look at it for long, it brings to the surface my natural inclination to ruminate and I have to keep that in check. 

Here are three paintings from my work that are strongly influenced by Wyeth: 

"Back Stairs, Oil On Canvas, 36"x24"

"The Rasberry House", oil on canvas, 15"x30"

"Rob, Drifting", oil on canvas, 48"x36"

Technically his work is unsurpassed. I personally adore his watercolours but his tempera pieces are beyond measure. Even if I could paint that well, I have not the patience for the unbelievable details that he achieves. Truly his work is timeless. I love how his figures rarely look right at the viewer. His compositions are fantastic with a lovely balance through negative space. The seemingly arbitrary loose brushstrokes in some of his studies are far from haphazard. They serve to provide texture and movement to his work.

"Farm Road" by Andrew Wyeth

I could speak all day about this man who has shaped me as an artist over the years. Although I never met him, we are connected. His work resonates with me on a metaphysical level. I too seek to paint absence, to paint what lies beneath the expression, to create a world just out of sight. Thank-you Andrew Wyeth. Although you are gone, your work will continue to reverberate within myself and so many others. 

"I get letters from people about my work. The thing that pleases me most is that my work touches their feelings. In fact, they don't talk about the paintings. They end up telling me the story of their life or how their father died."~Andrew Wyeth

On another note, Bravo! Canada filmed a special profiling my work in 2007. It will be airing on Bravo! Channel all across Canada on Monday, February 9th at 8:30am Eastern Standard Time.  I hope you are able to catch it! It is on at an odd time but thank goodness for PVRs.

Dwell in possibility,

Heather


Monday, January 12, 2009

"The Side Door"


"When you follow your bliss...doors will open where you would not have
 thought there would be doors; and where there wouldn't be a door for anyone else."
 ~Joseph Campbell

"The Side Door", oil on canvas, 72"x48", is the largest painting I have ever completed. It was intimidating to cover such a large space, and yet to many artists this size of painting is probably an every day task. To me, it seemed an ocean of white, my brushes appeared far too small to cover such an area. I am sure it was similar to the fear that some writers feel when they stare at the expectant blank page on their computer, typewriter or notepad. Personally, small paintings are comfortable. I addressed this in my note about "Self-Portrait, Renewed". I feel more freedom within the confines of a little painting. Large paintings seem to carry more of an expectation, as though they must shout their message. It was a great learning experience tackling this painting which was the last piece I completed for my "Passages" show in 2007 at Abbozzo Gallery. 

"The Side Door" appears in the background of the painting "Work In Progress", that I just blogged about recently. I wanted the two paintings to tie together visually and also enjoyed the idea of seeing "The Side Door" being worked on within another painting. I painted the two pieces in conjunction with one another but naturally "The Side Door" took much longer to complete. 

The subject once again is my friend Gayle and her beautiful house north of Burlington. This house is so special, so old, with such a history; it seems to live and breathe in concert with Gayle and her family. This house wants to be painted. I have captured Gayle and her house in more than half a dozen paintings. The entire experience of visiting Gayle at home is special every time. As Andrew Wyeth painted The Kuerners innumerable times over three decades, so I intend to paint Gayle at her stone house for as long as I am able. No matter what far reach of the continent I travel to, this special piece of land and the people who live there continue to draw me back. 

The porch you see on the side of the house is no longer there. Gayle's husband has since replaced it with a beautiful new porch (he is a woodworker). I am pleased to have captured the old porch before it came down, a little piece of its history kept intact. My aim with this piece was to ask the viewer to wonder where she was going and where she had been. I sought movement from the melting snow in a pattern of thaw that would circle around and lead the eye to Gayle opening the door. Where does that door lead? Can the viewer tell that the pane of glass in the lower section of the door has broken? I remember Gayle remarking about the broken glass and worrying that it might spoil the painting to have to paint a boarded window. On the contrary, it is precisely for that very reason that I wanted to paint it. It is the imperfections that are often truly beautiful. It indicates movement and life, that things are happening there, that it is lived in. I also used Gayle's poppy red hat once again as a nice splash of colour to bring the viewer's eye to her and focus there for awhile. Also the aluminum container by the door was fun to paint...I love to paint things just as they are and not shift things around too much. I would rather move than expect things to move for me. It is much the same as when models ask what they should wear...."whatever you enjoy and feels comfortable" I usually reply, though I do suggest that perhaps complex patterns might be avoided. I'd rather not go crazy rendering paisley or plaid. 

There are always little parts of a painting that are particularly enjoyable to paint. In this case it is Gayle's reflection in the glass. When I look upon it I still remember the very painting session that I painted that part, almost like when you are taken back to distance times when you smell something familiar. It is as though there is a creative fingerprint on that section. It has its own memory.

Exciting news! My next solo exhibition is pretty much finalized. If you can make it I would love it if you stopped by to see my new work inspired from a recent adventure in Newfoundland, Canada. This exhibition will examine the people and places I encountered in the truly magical land of Newfoundland. I hope to see you there!
                 
Heather Horton
Newfoundland Portraits
November 6-22th, 2009
 Oakville, Ontario, Canada
Opening Reception Friday November 6th, 7-10pm

I am posting sneak peeks of works as I paint them that you can see via my regular website
Have a beautiful day,
Heather
 
"The doors we open and close each day decide the lives we live."~Flora Whittemore

Friday, January 9, 2009

Twillingate and Fogo Island: Exploring Newfoundland, Part 5


The view from the lookout near the lighthouse in Twillingate, Newfoundland


"Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things you didn't do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover." ~Mark Twain

The last leg of my time spent in Newfoundland was spent in Twillingate and the surrounding area. We appreciated the different topographies and qualities of the east side of Newfoundland versus the west side. However I had heard that Twillingate was an area not to be missed. 

We departed Gros Morne National Park and drove for about 5 hours to reach Twillingate. This area of Newfoundland is known as the Iceberg Capital Of The World...numerous tours head out during the summer months to spot the icebergs and whales which are both abundant at that time of year. On our way towards our destination we noted with smiles the absence of law enforcement. The roads were narrow and undulating, clean, relatively quiet and boasted miles and miles of undisturbed forests. It brings me great happiness to look at a map of Newfoundland and Labrador and see that the centre of Newfoundland contains virtually no habitation by human beings...apparently it is mostly composed of bogs and forests, realms not very conducive to human settlement.  I have not been to Labrador but from what I hear it is even more remote and undisturbed by development. 

The view from our hosts' backyard in Twillingate

We explored Twillingate for really only one full day but it was enough to get a taste for this gorgeous corner of Newfoundland. When I see those lovely commercials advertising Newfoundland Labrador on television, the ones with the cliffs and clotheslines flapping, that is what Twillingate is to me. We drove up to the lighthouse beyond Crow Head, a truly stunning drive. Near the lighthouse are a web of hiking trails, some very steep, and we meandered along them for a good distance. 

The rather abbreviated sign at one of the small restaurants in Twillingate

The view along the road at Crow's Head on the way up to the lighthouse 


Not surprisingly, I did not get a picture of the lighthouse but preferred to capture the sunset. The quality of light reminded me a bit of Alaska with a similar palette of colours.

While in Wesleyville a new friend had suggested exploring Fogo and/or Change Islands. We researched the two places, knowing that we could not cover both areas in one day. We settled on Fogo Island and preceded to plan our ferry trips to and from this little piece of paradise.

This graffiti that we passed on the way to the ferry was, like all of the other graffiti we saw in Newfoundland, quite tasteful, and even a little artistic!

The small town where the ferry departs from is called Farewell. I adore the names of places in Newfoundland....they range from the charmingly optimistic (Come-By-Chance, Bumble-Bee-Bight, Heart's Content, Heart's Ease, Comfort Cove, Little Paradise) to the melancholic (Famish Gut, Confusion Bay, Misery Point, Empty Basket, Breakheart Point).

When I think of Newfoundland I think of purple-blue water, stalwart rocks, uninterrupted miles of trees and the open expanse of possibility.  We drove on to the little ferry that took us over to Fogo and were met with an area of Newfoundland that was even more unique than we anticipated. There is a strong Irish presence on FogoFogo Island has a faithfully preserved fishing stage on the Dwyer Premises. We visited this piece of history and were greeted by a lovely woman who showed us around and also took us up to Lane House Museum, the oldest house in Tilting. 

At the far side town an Irish cloverleaf stands near a cannon.

The beautifully preserved fishing stage, flakes and wharf of the Dwyer Premises

While touring these historical places I was struck once again with a somber feeling at what a difficult and often short life many Newfoundlanders once lived. Many families had children numbering into the double digits and would have been a challenge to support. They had to subsist on what small amount of money they could earn from their cod fishing. Their lives, sometimes brief, were hopefully full of happiness despite their hardship. 


The beautiful little town of Tilting

The view from the trail just outside of town. The trail continues around the cove after passing by the Old Irish Cemetery which is purportedly the oldest Irish-Catholic cemetery in Newfoundland. 

We approached this interesting little farm near the trail that we were hiking along. I love the supports that ballast the fence. There were sheep who eyed us suspiciously just to the right of the frame here. 


We stopped for a few minutes at Sandy Cove Beach on our way out of Tilting. The colours of the landscape were so vivid, even the lichen seen here on this rock were shouting out their personalities. I loved the blue tinge to the rock compared with the orange of the lichen...a perfect example of the inherent resilience that ALL the inhabitants of this land possess.

Further along the road towards the ferry that would take us to Farewell we spotted this beautiful church, back lit by the sun. Berry-pickers were everywhere, and I ate more jam in two weeks than I have in my whole life. Cloudberry jam was my favorite, followed closely by Partridgeberry jam. All of it was delicious and I happily dined on toast and jam very frequently as Newfoundland has a dearth of vegetarian options! 

The church on the road to the ferry

On our way back to Wesleyville from Twillingate we were told that Pike's Arm, a nearby lookout, was quite stunning and worth a stop. 360 degrees of beauty greeted us at the top of steep flights of stairs. The land seemed to rise effortlessly out of the water like whales breaching and heading back down to the depths below. These strings of little islands formed a beautiful archipelago dotting the horizon. If you are in the area, I highly recommend stopping in Pike's Arm, Twillingate and  Fogo Island....in fact it is hard to recommend just one place to experience as they are all very special. If you wish to see a painting that I recently completed about the return trip to Farewell you can read about it here.


For two weeks we saw no moose...not a one. I had been warned numerous times about them, to avoid driving at night, to avoid driving at dusk and of course to avoid driving early in the morning. Nevertheless I had expected to see moose over our two weeks in Newfoundland and we were beginning to wonder if we would ever see one. I kept saying "you wait, we'll see one before we leave". Sure enough, on our way to the airport in Gander, our wish came true.



It was about 8am and we rounded a bend in the road to come upon these beautiful moose the road. They looked at us rather skeptically and I stopped the car lest they feel threatened and become aggressive. In a moment they had disappeared into the woods as quickly and deftly as they had appeared. 


As I have mentioned before, the lack of air pollution lets you see clearly right to the horizon in Newfoundland. Here the light was refracting off of raindrops in the distance, giving them a pink hue. It was a fittingly moving image as one of the last that left an impression on us as we headed home to Ontario.

"To live a creative life we must lose our fear of being wrong."
~Joseph Chilton Pearce


Here is some information on my solo exhibition in November 2009. If you have any questions please contact Abbozzo Gallery. 

You can read about some of the paintings for this exhibition on my other blog, Heather Horton Artwork. 

Newfoundland Portraits
November 5-22nd, 2009
Abbozzo Gallery, Oakville, Ontario
Opening Reception November 6th, 7-10pm


Have a wonderful day and take good care,

Heather




Tuesday, January 6, 2009

"Work In Progress"


"Ideally a painter (and, generally, an artist) should not become conscious of his insights: without taking the detour through his reflective processes, and incomprehensibly to himself, all his progress should enter so swiftly into the work that is unable to recognize them in the moment of transition." ~Rainer Maria Rilke

"Self In Progress", oil on canvas, 20"x16", carries two meanings. Yes, the metaphor is obvious but also, there is a more literal meaning here. The painting which stands behind me is "The Side Door", which I will blog about in a few days. I painted "Self In Progress" while working on "The Side Door" and thought that it might provide a nice backdrop to another self-portrait. 

Rilke is on to something. There is something to be said for editing your thoughts and inspirations for paintings. Personally, I hold firmly to the tenet that knowing what NOT to paint, is just as important as knowing what TO paint. I would rather have 5 very strong paintings compared to 20 mediocre ones. Try to make each painting the best it can be. Use your best skills of critical analysis to glean the most compelling ideas to translate into your craft. The flip side is that if you shoot for mediocrity in life and your art that is precisely what you will get. 

The concept of human beings as works in progress is nothing new. Fundamentally it is the human condition. It is how we choose to get from point A to point B in life before we shuffle off this mortal coil. To know oneself prepares you to know the world. However, exploring the world and the amazing creatures and people who inhabit it enables us to also formulate our own concept of self and individuality. They are inextricably bound; fluid, organic and constantly in flux. Wouldn't life be boring if it were not so?

This painting was challenging in that there were some very intense blues that I had to render. I love painting white and black because they are the farthest thing from monochromatic....they possess every colour...they are chameleons, they keep you guessing and surprise you with what hues you can discover when looking at them. 

If I appear to be pensive it is because the painting behind me was taking a long time. It was a struggle and I wanted to stretch my wings with something that compelled me yet also tied back in with the larger painting behind me.

The other day I was visiting my friend Gayle who is a framer. She lives in the house from the painting "The Side Door" and when I walked into her framing studio there was "Work In Progress" hanging on the wall, preparing to be framed. The painting had sold last year but now was going to have its own frame and the feeling that washed over me when I saw it was palpable. It was like greeting a friend that you never thought you would see again. My reaction surprised me. 

"Work In Progress" was painted during a time of anxiety, struggle, but always there existed the need to create. To be facing challenges in life and yet have to continue to create paintings is difficult, I won't mince words about that. Yet we must go on. I do. I must. This painting and the rest of my work is really, a visual record of a life that just happens to be mine.  I feel great affection for these paintings and for the people who share a portion of their lives with me. They make the world rich beyond measure and I treasure them dearly.

"Where I am, I don't know, I'll never know, in the silence you don't know, you must go on, I can't go on, I'll go on." ~Samuel Beckett