Thoughts on An Extraordinary Year..

"North on I-29", oil on panel, 16"x16"

This past year has been ridiculously full of travel and exploration. From hiking over mossy trails on Vancouver Island, jogging along the Yukon River in Whitehorse, Yukon Territory, standing in sun looking out at the splendour of Cappadocia in Turkey, peering over the shoulders of gargoyles at Notre Dame in Paris, witnessing the impossibly blue Mediterranean Sea, touching the spines of Saguaro Cacti in the south of Arizona, standing beneath the quiet hush of giant sequoias in California's Yosemite National Park, and seeing Mt. McKinley in the heart of Denali National Park in its full glory, I would not trade a moment of it for anything. 

A flicker surveys the surrounding desert landscape from atop a saguaro cactus, Arizona..

It has been a year of reference-collecting extraordinaire. But it is not distance nor quantity of places that matter. It is what you glean and distill from each day that has meaning and builds upon the fibres of your being. Whether you live in a cave (like one woman I met in Turkey) or rub shoulders with arctic tundra on daily basis...is is what we choose to store inside our minds and hearts that counts. 

The sublime drive into Delta Junction, Yukon Territory

As Francis Bacon once said: "The job of the artist is to deepen the mystery." 

This is an exciting and challenging task. I am trying my best to do this with my artwork, blogs, photos and other creative projects. Or course one has to venture inwards as much as outwards to fully express how you feel with regards to you work. I hope you have enjoyed these posts this past year, and just imagine what the future holds! 2012 sees another voyage to Alaska, a 200 km hiking adventure above the Arctic Circle in Greenland, and lots and lots of time in the studio getting back to painting the figure. I can't wait!

Cave dwellings thousands of years old in Goreme, Cappadocia, Turkey

The year has also seen "Back To The Wild: The Photographs And Writings Of Christopher McCandless" grow and evolve. We expect to publish the DVD and book in the early part of 2011. You can read more about the project here. It has been an incredible journey helping to bring the photographs and experiences of Chris McCandless to light for the world to see.

"The Big Blue": The Mediterranean in the South Of France

While a good number of paintings have come out of the studio, even more will be produced next year as I let the experiences of 2010 ferment and turn into fuel for future works. I have painted three landscapes recently, one of which is at the top of this post. I love painting these pieces yet I yearn to re-embrace portraiture and figurative work.This is at the top of my list of goals for 2011.

"Uzes Kitchen", oil on canvas, 24"x18", 2010

Private Collection

Magnificent Mount McKinley in Alaska, the highest peak in North America

So thank-you for coming along on these journeys with me over the past year. Many of you have been following my work for years already! I appreciate your support and belief in what I do. If you are interested in the painting "North On I-29", at the top of this blog, please contact Abbozzo Gallery. Also I have set up an online ordering system for prints of my paintings and photographs! Here is the link to purchase prints.  I will add more paintings and photographs to the list of available pieces soon. You can purchase fine art prints, photo prints, mugs, magnets and more!  May 2012 be your best year yet!

Sincerely, Heather "Moving Forward" by Rainer Maria Rilke The deep parts of my life pour onward, as if the river shores were opening out. It seems that things are more like me now, that I can see farther into paintings. I feel closer to what language can't reach. With my senses, as with birds, I climb into the windy heaven, out of the oak,  in the ponds broken off from the sky my falling sinks, as if standing on fishes.

"A Special Meal"

"I once had a sparrow alight on my shoulder for a moment while I was hoeing in a village garden,

and I felt that I was more distinguished by that circumstance than

I should have been by any epaulet I could have worn" ~Henry David Thoreau

"A Special Meal", oil on panel, 24"x18", was a painting that needed to be completed from the moment I saw the photograph on which it is based. I was in Virginia visiting with Chris McCandless's parents Walt and Billie, and they generously showed me the photographs that Chris took on his two year odyssey from 1990-1992. The vast majority of the photographs were beautiful, informative, poignant. However a handful stood out to me as truly iconic. That man had some seriously wonderful skill with a camera, a carefully composed eye, and I was moved to tears looking through them.

I am fascinated by subtlety, by the hint of movement, by the careful yet spontaneous placement of objects, body language and expressions. This painting clearly shows a deliberation, a method, Chris's plan of laying out this special meal for himself in Bus 142 on the Stampede Trail. He composed the table setting as he composed all of his photographs-with care and planning. When I first saw it I was struck with how happy he must have been to survey this pocket of civility that he had created in such a rough and raw landscape.

A knife that Chris probably acquired from Jan Burres, a friend of his who he met in California is set on a faded napkin. A spoon from his childhood home in Annandale is there as well, along with a fork and various pans and bowls that hunters have left in the bus over the years. A green tin is smoking to keep the mosquitoes at bay. Bug dope and his camera case are situated next to other jars and perhaps some rendered moose fat in a jar. Some berries sit in a bowl, perhaps to be enjoyed as a desert, or perhaps as a condiment for the moose meat in the bowl. There is an undeniable energy here. There is the expectation and the knowledge that he probably enjoyed this meal very much. It echoes back to how despite the most primitive conditions, we often revert to customs and habits and are ingrained within our beings at the deepest level.

This painting has been two years in the making. It has sat in the back of my mind while I worked on my "Newfoundland Portraits" exhibition last year, and it has stayed there while I have completed commissions for clients and other personal work. But at last I was able to begin it while staying for five weeks in Whitehorse in the Yukon Territory in May. I wanted to paint it on board because the thickness and texture reminded me of the makeshift table that Chris used. It had a rough, natural quality to it that I liked.

After visiting Bus 142 for a third time, just three weeks ago now, I still look fondly at objects in this painting that remain in the bus. I do hope they remain there for visitors to see who have come to pay respect to Chris and his journey. I have now completed about 13 paintings based on Chris's photos and experiences. If you wish to see the other paintings I have completed about Chris click on the numbers. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7,.  Although I never met him, I am able to try to see through his eyes as I paint the landscapes and moments that he deemed special, that means something to him. It is important to not rush past places of beauty, but to really see them for what they are. I paint to understand, to examine, and to become familiar with things that compel me to put brush to canvas. Whether it be the human form, the curve of a hillside, or eating utensils, it is what they represent that is alluring. For they then cease to be just an object and instead become what energy and memory we attach to them.


I will be posting new information soon on this blog and my other blog, Heather's Paintings and Musings about an upcoming DVD and Book of Christopher's photos and writings. Anyone who has been moved and/or affected by the life of this extraordinary young man should see/read them!


If you wish to find out more about Chris, his life, and the Memorial Fund created in his name to help needy children please visit: 


Christopher McCandless Info 
and
Chris's Purpose

"You shall above all things be glad and young.

 For if you're young, whatever life you wear it will become you;

 and if you are glad whatever's living will yourself become." ~e.e. cummings

A daytrip to Alaska...Whitehorse to Skagway!

"Nature has neither kernel nor shell; she is everything at once."

~Johann Wolfgang Von Goethe

I have enjoyed a few excursions during my time here in Whitehorse. One such morning I decided to drive to Alaska for the day. I knew that the trip to Skagway, AK was about two hours each way, and apparently one of the most beautiful drives in the area (which is saying a lot).

I grabbed my passport and left Whitehorse at 8:30am, intending to stop and take photos along the way, arrive in Skagway before lunch, hike and head back by the end of the afternoon.

I noticed how arid, or semi-arid Fairbanks was two years ago when I visited there and explored around Denali National Park, visiting Bus 142 on Stampede Trail in the process. I couldn't manage to stay hydrated it seemed. I was constantly drinking water and yet it seemed like a losing battle. Whitehorse is no exception. The air is quite thin, dry and crisp as compared to the soft, temperate climate that you encounter along the coasts. I know it is simple science that makes it so, but the contrast was extremely evident as I drove from Whitehorse to the coastal Alaskan town of Skagway that day.

heading south down the Alaska Highway

If you wish to see the route I took to Skagway, here is a link.

I stopped and took some photos of the world's smallest desert, The Carcross Dunes. Its size is only 1 square mile if you can believe it!

It was so bizarre to see sand juxtaposed with snow in such a way...certainly I had never seen anything like it before. It was quite cold and windy, particularly with the gain in elevation, so grabbed my toque and continued on towards Skagway.

Eventually you take a turn and leave the Alaska Highway, heading southwest on the South Klondike Highway. There was no one on the roads as usual, even on a Saturday. I only passed the occasional car and when I stopped to get out and take the odd photo, I would stand and listen to nothing but the wind and feel a lovely heaviness in that moment, feel the gravity of where I stood and tried to process it all.

There was still a lot of ice on the lakes near Whitehorse

Eventually I crossed the border into northwestern British Columbia. The highway passes through B.C. and then on to Alaska. But the borders, the latitude and longitude, were irrelevant in the face of so much beauty all around. Such grandeur made labels and statistics seem pale and unimportant by comparison.

The mountains and their monochromatic quality reminded me of a

scene that Ansel Adams might enjoy

The snow accumulates as I pass through Northwestern British Columbia

I continued on and as I made my way onwards and upwards, my increased elevation turned the precipitation into snow. It was quite amazing...to leave the sun and brilliance of Whitehorse and to now be an hour away and in a fog of blowing snow..quite surreal. At one point I stopped to shoot some photos of the blowing snow near the top of what seemed like a pass and, to my surprise, a family in a truck next to me took out skis and began cross country skiing...on May 1st no less!

Eventually I crested the top of the pass and began to head down towards the coast. I passed a rather bizarre sign that I tried not to think too much about:

I passed through U.S. customs without any issue. The border guard, all decked out in uniform, was pleasant and bid me on my way. Slowly but surely the snow began to dissipate as I neared the coast...the trees awoke as the snow receded, and by the time I rolled into Skagway there was greenery and lush vegetation everywhere.

Skagway is a popular destination for cruise ships and people beginning to hike the historic 53km Chilkoot Trail. The Chilkoot trail is rich in history as it was one of the main routes that intrepid men and women hiked during the Klondike Gold Rush. I would like to hike this trail within the next five years if possible. It sounds like an amazing adventure. There are still old stoves and other possessions that were to cumbersome to carry, now long abandoned and left by the side of the trail.

Skagway is home to about 500 people, yet the town was quiet in the drizzle of rain that was falling. I wandered about but most of the tourist shops and even the visitor centre were all closed. It appears that tourist season doesn't start in earnest until Mid-May up here. That was fine, as I didn't want to fall in step with the throngs that would inevitably descend here and in other popular spots in Alaska and the Yukon. I prefer to visit and explore places in off-season, when residents are more relaxed and life beats at more of its regular rhythm. Stopping in at the ferry terminal to track down a map of local trails, a friendly ticket issuer passed me a map and told me where the trailhead was. As I turned to leave he said rather nonchalantly "make sure you watch out for bears". I was slightly unnerved as I was on my own yet appreciated his advice and made my way to the beginning of the trail system.

I was going to attempt a longer trail with a higher elevation gain and more challenge, but after encountering a fair bit of snow on the first leg of the trail I opted for a lower route. I had never hiked on my own in earnest before, and certainly not in Alaska. Nevertheless I made lots of noise, stayed alert and enjoyed the solitude as I ambled up the steep slopes that levelled off and followed my chosen route.

Skagway, as seen from the beginning of the trail

My path wound up sharply for the first while.

After awhile I came to the lake I had been seeking and stopped to listen and observe everything around me. I was pleased that the trail was fairly well marked, yet it was still easy to take a wrong turn up there. Everywhere I could feel the earth waking up and enjoying the rain. I put my jacket back on as it was quite cool out. I loved the feel of of rain and didn't use my hood once. I can see why many women in northern climes don't wear much if any make-up. Who would want to up here when everything else is so natural and unaffected?

The lake was quiet, so still, with a thin layer of ice receding near its far shores.

I eventually found my way back down to the beginning of the trail and headed back to Whitehorse. I left the temperate rainy forests for the ice and snow of the pass, then back down to Whitehorse, a fabulous day of amazing sights seen, adventures had and peace felt. I will never forget it.

“Keep your love of nature, for that is the true way to understand art more and more.” ~Vincent Van Gogh

Climbing Gulkana Glacier and 'Business As Usual' in Alaska

"In wisdom gathered over time I have found that every experience is a form of exploration." 

~Ansel Adams

Two days before I left Alaska Ed, Lisa, Andy, Trevor and I headed to McClaren summit, the highest elevation that you can access by vehicle in the entire state. Ed , Lisa and Andy were heading out on a 50 mile packraft and hiking trip for the weekend. I had to leave Fairbanks on Sunday and thus Trevor and I drove them to their drop-off point at McClaren summit. Then we hiked on Gulkana Glacier on our way back to Fairbanks.

We left Fairbanks at the end of the day on Friday and stopped for pizza in Delta Junction I believe. There were lots of moose on the road and Andy and Lisa, driving separately almost hit one. Hunting season began that weekend so there were a few hunters toting rifles that we spotted along the road. As usual I was just in awe of the landscape and how much it changes with the light and time of day. My circadian clock was all askew for my two weeks in Alaska as it tried to adjust to the sun being up at 5:30am and not setting until around midnight. Ed and Trevor taught me about the difference between buttes and tors and we debated what exactly a "traverse" entailed and if packrafting could be included within the context of a traverse.

A part of the Alaska Range in the fading light.

The abrupt contrast in light and dark with the sunsets in the north was beautiful.

After dinner we headed for our camp, another 2 hours southwest of Fairbanks. The sun was down when we set up camp in the pitch black. It was quite disorienting as I had no idea what sort of landscape was around us...the most precious thing you can have when it gets that dark is your headlamp...it is invaluable. The next morning we packed up and Trevor and I headed off towards Gulkana Glacier for the day while Ed, Andy and Lisa began their traverse. I joked with Ed throughout my time in Alaska that his amazing trips through mountains and across the tundra every week were "Business As Usual" for him and his friends. I was swept up for a time in this world where packrafting and scaling mountains is as second nature as breathing and I was hooked on it all immediately.

The view that greeted us when we awoke the next morning

We set off and Trevor and I grabbed some coffee at a roadside diner on our way to the glacier. The bends in the road kept revealing even more glorious panoramas...it was like a postcard rack that you spin and each time it stops a new card is in front of you.  I drank a lot of black coffee in Alaska...except when I was in Fairbanks where I could find some soy milk. Needless to say with some caffeine running through our veins we pushed off towards the glacier.

On our way to Gulkana after dropping Ed, Lisa and Andy off for their traverse.

As we drove along I looked around and could not believe the clarity, the sharpness of beauty in the smells, sights and sounds of everything around us. Plus, blaring and singing along to Coldplay made it even better.

We arrived at the glacier around 10am and drove as far as we could along this road towards the glacier before leaving the car and continuing on foot. We only saw two other people on our hike, which took about 7 hours there and back with time spent on the glacier. We came across a rather precarious bridge with wooden slats that crossed a small but swiftly moving glacial stream. It reminded me a little bit of the bridge in Indiana Jones And The Temple Of Doom, complete with missing wooden slats.  

Gulkana Glacier is the most studied glacier in Alaska. There was a lot of monitoring equipment that we passed on our way up. Trevor told me about the features of the glacier, the rocks it leaves in its wake as it recedes and all sorts of glacial terminology that I cannot recall. Needless to say it was very impressive to see a sea of boulders that we had to negotiate on our way up to where the ice began. 

As we climbed Trevor informed me that we were indeed on ice but it was covered in silt and rocks but sure enough our footing became rather unstable periodically as we would step on ice that had a thin layer of soil on it, disguising how slippery it was. 

Trevor and I continued our way up the seemingly endless hills of rocks and boulders

As we made it to the ice and started to climb the glacier proper the temperature fell about ten degrees. The ice was like tiny pebbles...almost gravelly. There were small crevasses with beautiful blue ice visible as you peered into them. There were also lots of streams running past us too, clear little highways of water disappearing into crevasses or intimidating looking holes in the ice.

One of the many small streams flowing down the glacier

We finally reached a good point to survey the view around us. Trevor continued up a little further after donning his crampons. It was a wonderful feeling being up there, feeling at once so large and so small, a part of something large and yet quite inconsequential at the same time...a very humbling experience. I wanted to freeze time and relish the place and space around me but we knew that it would take a good couple of hours to get back down so we began our descent after about an hour of meandering around and taking some photos.

Trevor climbing a little farther up the glacier

An unbelievable view down the glacier and into the valley below

We came across this obliterated snowmobile on our way down the glacier. We didn't find anyone there so hopefully they were either unhurt from the crash or had been taken to receive treatment for their injuries. It was rather spooky to find this abandoned hull of a machine way up on the glacier though. Periodically we would hear large chunks of ice split and break off, sending crashes reverberating below our feet and in our ears. 

Here were some small crevasses that intimidated me nonetheless!!

I loved the cool and warm tones that the sunlight cast upon the ice.

That tiny dot up behind me is Trevor farther up the glacier

This is my favorite shot from the whole day. It seems to take the entire world in...I wanted so badly to slide down the stream but who knows where I would have ended up?

It took us almost three hours to get back to Trevor's trusty little Subaru. What an unreal day. I remember him asking me at the start of the day if I wanted to drive around the Interior looking at the mountains or climb a glacier? Needless to say it didn't take me long to decide! We didn't get to the top of the glacier that day but I felt as though I had reached the summit. I had never done anything like that before...and cannot wait to go again to see so much more of the endless possibilities that await in the North. Again, having someone as amazing as Trevor there made the experience even more invaluable. He is an easygoing guy and I'm pretty nervous sometimes so his laid back attitude helped me enjoy the experience without worrying about anything. Great friends are worth more than gold.

The view as we drive away from Gulkana

That was my last day in Alaska before I flew back to Ontario. Now back in my studio I fought a good bout of melancholia after leaving the 49th state. But work must be done and I am back at the easel with renewed vigor now. Paintings are being produced and the energy behind them is fueled from these experiences in Alaska and Newfoundland the following month. 

I intend to return as soon as I can to Alaska, to reunite with my good friends as much as any snow capped vista, to celebrate the best gifts of all: health, happiness and friends to share it all with. What more could one want in this life?

Bones sinking like stones

all that we fall for

Homes places we've grown

all of us are done for

And we live in a beautiful world

(yeah we do yeah we do)

We live in a beautiful world

We live in a beautiful world

~"Don't Panic", Coldplay

"Lisa, Kanuti"

"Its the great big, broad land 'way up yonder,

It's the forest where silence has lease;

It's the beauty that fills me with wonder,

It's the stillness that fills me with peace."

~Robert Service, excerpt from "The Spell Of The Yukon"

"Lisa, Kanuti", 24"x 18",oil on panel, was inspired by my recent pack rafting/hiking trip with Ed, Lisa, Dan C and Dan P to Kanuti hot springs in the Alaskan Interior. We had traveled 4.5 hours north of Fairbanks along the Dalton Highway. It was very remote. There wasn't a soul around for miles, perhaps a hundred miles or more. The day was amazing. We had bushwhacked over a mile uphill and then traversed the smaller peaks near Caribou Mountain. The fall colours were our in full force and painted the landscape a variety of reds, ochres, whites and greens.

As we crested the top of a hill I took some shots of Lisa. I particularly enjoyed the quality of light all through Alaska, how it played upon objects and people. It was pure, clean, unfiltered...it was immediate and true. The interesting thing about this painting is that I had set up a couple of other small moments to take photos for a painting of Lisa earlier on in the trip...However this one, shot quickly and candidly, was the one that captured my interest. The mountains on the horizon, the reds of the foliage around her, and Lisa's pacific expression all served as inspiration.

We had heavy packs on and our water was precious up there as we had long left the Kanuti river that we had pack rafted down to the hot springs. I have never painted a backpack before but that lent an authenticity to the piece for me. I don't like posing really and try to keep my compositions as genuine as possible, with utilitarian objects included that are just as important to the narrative.

I wanted to convey Lisa as accurately in the moment as possible. She has since moved away from Alaska and I thought about that while I painted this piece. I wondered if it might serve as a little reminder of one of her last treks in the vast Alaskan landscape before she moved on. She has a beautiful personality and energy to her and I hope that it is evident here.

While the hills in the distance are rolling and seem innocuous, make no mistake. It was serious business hiking through that back country. There were times that my body wanted to give out but I knew that only my own two feet would carry me onwards. It was very humbling, very intense and the difficulty of it made its resolution all the sweeter. 

On a side note, I have been painting on wood panel more lately. I enjoy the look of the brushstrokes on the surface more than canvas. I find that the brushstrokes get a bit lost in the texture of canvas sometimes. I would like to experiment with different supports and surfaces but panel is definitely my preferred material to paint on currently. 

You can read more about my adventures at Kanuti on my other blog, Heather's Paintings And Musings. 

"Keep close to Nature's heart...and break clear away, once in awhile, and climb a mountain or spend a week in the woods. Wash your spirit clean." ~John Muir

Artistic Integrity

Sunset in Wesleyville, Newfoundland

"Doing things the way you see it, going by your own heart and soul, that is pure artistic integrity. Whatever the hair is six or sixty inches long, the eyes have make-up or not, the riffs are in 'E' or 'F' sharp, the amps are Marshall or not, all those things don't matter if you are not doing it for the right reason, which to me means doing it for yourself." ~Lars Ulrich, musician.

Being a full-time artist has its challenges, as does any job or path in life. The sporadic income and lack of a good medical insurance plan are two minuses I can think of off the top of my head but the pros far outweigh the cons for me. Setting your own hours, doing work that means something to you and sharing that message and those ideas to others are just a few of the wonderful things about being an artist. Seeing your paintings change in technique over time, catching patterns of inspiration that emerge, some conscious and some unconscious, is a joy that I never take for granted.

Integrity. There are many types: Intellectual, Moral and Artistic to name some. It is important to cleave to what you believe in, live your truth in your work and not sell out. In an ideal situation you create a painting that resonates strongly with you or means something to you and people purchase that work. I never want to paint things simply because I think they will sell. I have been very fortunate that up to now people have enjoyed what I produce and I have been able to make a living at it. I have also told people on more than one occasion that I am determined not to be dead to make a living as an artist. So far so good.

The Alaska and Newfoundland paintings are starting to come together. It is wonderful to see work come off the easel and be placed on the wall. I know many painters who will still work on pieces once they have finished them...I almost never do this. Otherwise I would drive myself crazy with touching up and reworking. It is also important to be your own worst critic and knowing what NOT to paint is just as important as knowing what to TO paint.

These two groups of paintings come from different sides of the continent yet are so very important to me and will evolve right next to one another in the studio. The stories behind each body of work is something I hold close and cherish. These paintings are something that I simply must do, as sure as I breathe, that is why a creative person creates. If you believe in what you do, if you do not deviate from that resolve, you can never go wrong. There may be naysayers, detractors and skeptics but if you believe in it, it will happen and happen with authenticity. If you hold fast to your vision then the paintings will follow. Even the most mundane of objects can be made interesting depending on how the piece is composed and how the paint is applied. If you believe in what you are doing, if you are INTERESTED in it and curious about getting to know it better through painting it, you can never, ever lose.

"Live your beliefs and you can turn the world around."
~Henry David Thoreau

Paddling down Kanuti River, Alaska. 4 hours north 

of Fairbanks and 14 miles into the middle of nowhere. 

Kanuti trip, climbing Caribou Mountain, Alaska.

Autumn Newsletter

Hello!

I hope that you had a terrific summer and are settling into the routine that usually arrives with the onset of autumn.

I have been away for much of the summer on different journeys on either side of North America. The result is inspiration for at least two exhibitions of paintings.

The first journey was to the Alaskan Interior to visit Bus 142 on The Stampede Trail. This is the place where Christopher McCandless lived and tragically died following his amazing two year journey of self-discovery. His memory lives on in the hearts of so many who have been inspired by the way he chose to live his life. I visited the bus twice amidst my other travels in Alaska and am planning on having an exhibition of paintings about the entire experience. You can read about these travels on my other blog, Heather's Paintings and Musings. 

Newfoundland was my second destination, a place like no other I have ever visited. Through the kind generosity of esteemed artist David Blackwood and my Oakville dealer, Abbozzo Gallery, I traveled to Newfoundland to do research for another exhibition of paintings. This show will take place in the autumn of 2009 at Abbozzo Gallery in Oakville, Ontario. Newfoundland resonated with me very strongly as it has with so many others. The people and the land itself are inextricably woven together and I want to try to convey this connection in my work. I will provide more information as the show approaches. 

In the meantime I have some new work at the Toronto International Art Fair which takes place from October 2-6th at the Metro Toronto Convention Centre. My paintings will be at booth 314 with Loch Gallery. It is a great opportunity to see what is happening in the art world in Canada, as well as a great selection of galleries from the U.S. and other international locations.

"Conrad", oil on canvas, 30"x30"

"Laura, Cusp", oil on canvas, 30"x24"

For the next few months I will be putting the brushes to the grindstone and working diligently on new work. 

Please feel free to email me if you have any questions. I wish you health and happiness this season and remember to glorify every moment.

Warm Regards,

Heather

"To be free is to have achieved your life."

~Tennessee Williams

Journey To Bus 142: Redux

"Because it's there."

~George Mallory

I have recently returned from an incredible journey to Newfoundland to shoot reference for an exhibition of new paintings. This show will take place in Ontario at Abbozzo Gallery next autumn. My mind however, is still filled with memories of my time spent in Alaska, and more specifically, time spent at Bus 142. I really do think about Chris McCandless every day at some point or another and after journeying to the abandoned bus on The Stampede Trail his story has settled more deeply in my bones than ever before.

From my previous post you might think that my adventure with Ed to the bus was the last that I saw of that special place for the rest of my time in Alaska. Not so. A small leg of my time in Alaska was spent at Denali National Park and I devoted two days to seeing what I could of the beautiful park. Bus 142 lies on a small panhandle of land that is surrounded by the park and so when I rented my car to drive down to Healy and Denali I knew that I would be very near to the bus, as close as you can get using the word "near" in Alaska anyway.

I had about five hours remaining on that second day in Denali before I had to head back to Fairbanks. I was sitting at the Black Bear Café amidst all of the shops and hotels that line the highway near the park entrance when it suddenly hit me: I needed to go back to Bus 142. I realized that when I was there the week previous Ed and I had spent a good deal of time cleaning and organizing the disheveled bus and surrounding area. Plus it was such an acutely intense experience being there after all of that travel that I had not processed it all, nor had I taken many pictures to develop into paintings.

This brought me to a crazy crossroads: do I head back to Fairbanks, knowing that I never really was able to just "be" in that place, without more detailed reference for paintings, without the chance to be quiet and contemplate there? Or, do I do something rash, impulsive, expensive yet unforgettable? The answer was clear: I had to go back. So that is exactly what I did, by renting a helicopter.

Hiring the helicopter was prohibitively expensive but worth every penny. It enabled me to see the Stampede Trail from the air, and we followed its course on our way to the bus. It was amazing to see how we covered in fifteen minutes what it had taken Ed and I nine hours and two river crossings to accomplish. To see the trail wend like a vein through the trees, the water we had slogged through reflecting up at me 500 feet above the ground, was emotional. To once again see the distance it had taken Chris four days of hiking across, hunting and foraging all the way, was particularly poignant.

Stampede Road, a short distance off of the George Parks Highway, before it narrows down to a trail.

The Stampede Trail as seen by the lighter colour

through the trees.

As we neared the bus from the air, Scot, the helicopter pilot exclaimed "There's another helicopter here! It looks like the military!" He was right. We touched down next to what looked like a Blackhawk Helicopter that was used by army medics. We set down on the gravel bar a short distance from them, walked over, shook their hands and they handed me one of their cameras to take a shot of them. They had also been at Bus 142 taking pictures. I wondered what Chris would think about his influence and life touching even the most stoic of soldiers.

The army and their helicopter on the gravel bar where Ed and I had camped just one week before.

The helicopter then took off and I then headed up to the bus for the next two hours. It was another gorgeous day, similar to when Ed and I had been there only the week before. I was so pleased to see that the bus was still as we had left it. Wes and Oliver, the two nice guys we had met just west of the Teklanika River had signed the journal in the bus, as well as two men we passed the week previous who had ended up chartering a helicopter when the Teklanika stopped their progress.

Fortunately Bus 142's interior looked just as we had left it.

Some examples of people signing the interior of the bus with positive messages.

Looking down the Stampede Trail.

One of the many bullet holes found all over the bus, some of which have been there for years. Many of the windows have recently been broken sadly.

To say it was an emotional time is an understatement. I was so glad that I had returned. I would have regretted it for many years if I had not gone back.

The flight back to Denali was beautiful The foliage was a spectrum of gorgeous hues with the onset of colder weather. Alaska was big in every sense of the word to me. The sheer scale of the mountains and skies, the huge feeling of accomplishment in doing what I set out to do there, the large part of me that feels so connected with that place on The Stampede Trail. I know that this energy will manifest into paintings down the road, after the Newfoundland exhibition is complete. These paintings will be symbolic of the experiences that I had there. Perhaps they will resonate with others too. I really think that Chris's life inspires people because we recognize a bit of him in all of us, an explorer of the inner landscapes of thought and philosophy as much as any road taken on or off a map.

UPDATE, April 2010: I am co-producing a book of Chris's photographs and my paintings that I have done based on his photographs. This book will be published within the next year. It is very exciting! These photographs are a collection of images taken from over 300 pictures that Chris took on his terminal odyssey from 1990-1992. I am helping to produce this book in conjunction with Walt and Billie, Chris's parents, as well as a small group of devoted creatives and friends. From the first time that I laid eyes on these images, I knew there was a story there that had to be told: Chris's story through his own eyes. I will post updates regarding the book as I find out further details! Thank-you for taking the time to read my blog here and have a beautiful, magical day...

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,

And sorry I could not travel both

And be one traveler, long I stood

And looked down one as far as I could

To where it bent in the undergrowth.

Then took the other, as just as fair,

And having perhaps the better claim,

Because it was grassy and wanted wear;

Though as for that the passing there

Had worn them really about the same.

And both that morning equally lay

In leaves no step had trodden black.

Oh, I kept the first for another day!

Yet knowing how way leads on to way,

I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh

Somewhere ages and ages hence:

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I--

I took the one less traveled by,

And that has made all the difference.

Robert Frost