"Clothesline"

The question is not what you look at, but what you see.

~Henry David Thoreau

"Clothesline", oil on canvas, 20"x20"

You may or may not have seen those commercials on television encouraging you to visit Newfoundland and Labrador. You know the ones...crashing waves, miles of pristine coastlines, and always a blowing clothesline or two? Well, let me tell you, that's EXACTLY what you find on The Rock. 360 degrees of unfiltered beauty.

As I explored the northeastern, north and northwestern areas of Newfoundland from Wesleyville to Rocky Harbour, I repeatedly came across clotheslines blowing fiercely in the wind. As I have mentioned in previous posts, the wind is always blowing there. Always. It is with you every step you take. I remember having to walk headlong into the gales in Gros Morne National Park...my coat flapping furiously. I swear they were 80km/h gusts. But this wind keeps the air so fresh, right off of the ocean, that you appreciate it as an intrinsic component of that special place, as necessary to its identity as partridgeberry jam.

After seeing a few clotheslines I became inspired to paint one. Yet I didn't want to approach the subject matter with a traditional composition of coastline and the clothes above. No I wanted to create almost an abstract piece. The shapes created by the clothes flying on the line intrigued me. I thought, what if I used the clothes as a horizon line? Perhaps people would look at this painting and not know what it was at first. Or perhaps they would. It didn't matter, because the fun is in not knowing how people will see a piece.

I can tell before I even start painting if I will like it. The composition is SO important, as important as any colour that you mix or how you apply the paint. Usually when we see clotheslines they are above our line of sight. Yet here I wanted to lower the subject, and thus emphasize the vast spaces of fresh wind and sky above. The skies are tumultuous and ever changing in Newfoundland, probably partially due to its proximity to the Atlantic Ocean. Yet on this day the sky was robin's egg blue, pale and constant with no clouds at all. I love painting chunky, threatening clouds, but clouds were not the subject here. The billow of the clothes, the play of fabrics as they whipped on the line was the focus. I loved that the wind filled the towels and clothes like invisible bodies, shapeless until they encountered one another, and just as quickly were gone, replaced by other gusts.

If you do visit Newfoundland and Labrador, you will undoubtedly come across clotheslines such as these. I can also guarantee that you will encounter gorgeous coastlines, purple-blue water, and perhaps a part of yourself that you never knew existed. You will certainly meet beautiful, authentic, windblown people who inhabit this truly unique corner of Canada. That's a promise.

The Canadians of those days, at least, possessed a roving spirit of adventure which carried them further, in exposure to hardship and danger, than ever the New England colonist went, and led them, though not to clear and colonize the wilderness, yet to range over it as coureurs de bois, or runners of the woods, or, as Hontan prefers to call them, coureurs de risques, runners of risks.
~Henry David Thoreau

"To The Sea"

“There's no mastery to be had. You love the attempt.

You don't master a story any more than you master a river.

You feel lucky to canoe down it." ~Garrison Keillor

"To The Sea", oil on canvas, 24"x36" is another painting inspired by the journeys of Christopher McCandless. For this piece, I used Chris's own photo reference of his epic adventure down the Colorado River towards the Sea of Cortez in Mexico in the autumn of 1990. Chris bought the Grumman canoe second hand and began to make his way down the river, ostensibly ending up in the Sea of Cortez. Little did he know however, that after crossing the border into Mexico, the river would be diverted into smaller veins and irrigation canals that would thwart his progress and make a clear path to the sea impossible.

Fortunately some Mexican duck hunters helped him to the Pacific Ocean where he continued his adventure south down the coastline. Chris spent a total of 36 days without seeing a single soul, subsisting on fish from the ocean and surviving a dust storm that forced him into a cave for 10 days. He finally decided to abandon the canoe on some dunes when he was almost blown out to sea and broke a paddle in the great effort it took to make it back to land.

Why did I choose to paint this piece from 300 photos that Chris took? For one thing I am moved greatly by the courage it took him to follow a path into the unknown, to have his line of sight as his main navigational tool. I certainly don't have that courage! Also, I love the point-of-view from his canoe...there is an anonymity to it. Most of us have sat in a canoe or kayak and can appreciate that streamlined perspective that we know so well.

Another reason I am was compelled to paint this scene is how Chris's worldly possessions are discernible from the viewer's vantage point. His small, collapsible chair, his sleeping bag, his backpack....these objects that are so important to his adventure, these necessary ingredients can be seen and so for the complete picture of what exactly he carries with him as he paddles into the unknown.

Simplicity, in life and art, is often the best approach. The composition in this painting is pretty simple, with a muted palette of dusty greys, blues and greens. I like the balance of sky to land. and there is lots of room for the viewer's eye to rest. It is symbolic. It symbolizes the untrodden path, the fork in the road, the choice to experience life as acutely as possible. A busy canvas is not always a good thing. If you provide all of the answers, it takes the mystery out of it. I have never presumed to know what a viewer might think when they look at my paintings, just as we don't know what Chris was thinking when he took the photo that I based this painting on. The NOT knowing is magical. The uncertainty is important. Perhaps the questions are even more important than the answers. I believe they are.

Have a beautiful day, wherever you are...

"Go confidently in the direction of your dreams! Live the life you've imagined. As you simplify your life, the laws of the universe will be simpler."

~Henry David Thoreau

"Wyll, Bay And Bloor"

"Life is partly what we make it and partly what is made by the friends we choose."

~Tennessee Williams

"Wyll, Bay And Bloor", oil on panel, 9"x12", is one of several paintings that will accompany me to Ankara, Turkey next week for an art exhibition to celebrate International Women's Day 2010. This is a fabulous opportunity to help raise funds to help young girls receive an education in Turkey as 20% of the revenue from show sales will go directly to an NGO helping this cause. I am thrilled to be a part of such a venture! There are a dozen artists participating from all over the world and I will be staying with Canada's Ambassador to Turkey and his family while in the country. To say I am honoured is an understatement!

Wyll has very striking features, and, combined with the natural, direct light on her face, her eyes really are accentuated. She is wearing the same hat I have painted her in before..it makes her look like a Russian Princess I think. We also shot some reference inside that day, with fluorescent lights, but I preferred the open, bright quality of the exterior shots that I took of her.

This painting is another example of a simply rendered environment with more detail and time spent on the subject. But this painting isn't so much about where Wyll is...but who she is. Although the palette is pretty muted, I wanted to depict a sense of positivity and optimism with Wyll's expression and the direction she was looking. No matter the environment, the situation, the day, the place, anything, Wyll's amazing spirit and beautiful personality always shines through, and it is this energy that continues to draw me back to paint her, spend quality time with her and to nurture our friendship.

I thought that the people of Turkey might enjoy this painting that seems very 'Canadian' to me...around the world light really does look different, and her clothing, the street, the colours, all seem very familiar. I am taking other paintings, including still life pieces, landscapes from Newfoundland and another portrait with me to Turkey. I wanted to have a good selection of subject matter for the art exhibition.

Painting a piece this size demands a steady hand and good brushes. I find that with coffee and the pressure of rendering things on a smaller scale that my hand sometimes is unsteady and I have even caught myself holding my breath in order to paint the dark raspberry tone under an eyelid or the dark orange line that delineates the ridge of an ear against hair. As I posted on Twitter the other day, the act of painting a portrait is a very intimate experience. In the quiet and stillness of the studio I have time to spend studying the faces of people I care about, or sometimes kind strangers who have posed for me. Whomever is being painted, we have a connection with one another, and it is my challenge to render that connection to the best of my abilities.

I hope to have captured a small fragment of Wyll's magic in this piece. She's a rare bird, someone that makes the world a better place, and I am thrilled to have had the opportunity to to paint her numerous times. The arc of a life can be measured in many ways, and for an artist it can be through the paintings we produce. No matter the subject, they are moments in our life that we have set aside to create these paintings, and the people depicted on the canvas have become a part of that history. I am so thankful for each of them...

"The language of friendship is not words but meanings." ~Henry David Thoreau

Speaking Of Art...

"Gayle With Sheet", Oil On Canvas, 30"x24"

"A good orator is pointed and impassioned"~ Cicero

Last week I had the opportunity to speak at Georgian College in Barrie, Ontario. I was asked to be a guest lecturer for the fine art student body and some faculty. It was exhilarating yet a bit terrifying as well...which I suppose is a good thing. Adrenaline can do such wonders for the mind as well as the body!

The purpose of this lecture was to discuss and talk about my background, past work, present projects, accomplishments and anything else pertaining to the life of a full-time artist that the students might enjoy learning about. I have included some images in this blog of paintings that I showed to the audience.

"Bed (head)", oil on canvas, 12"x12"

I had a lot of fun preparing the lecture, partially because I was able to use Power Point finally. It was so straightforward and I almost couldn't believe it was a Microsoft product! All bias aside, I had a great time organizing, planning, editing and honing the talk around slides of older and present work, a brief bio and selected quotations that keep me inspired and moving forward when there are inevitable but rare dips in enthusiasm about one's work.

"Coming", oil on canvas, 48"x36"

The talk went really well and I was quite excited to see that a total of about 115 people attended the lecture! All of the chairs were taken and people were sitting on the floor and standing at the back of the gallery where the talk was held. I had a microphone. I had a laptop. I was ready...so I dove in and began to talk about what I do and why I do it.

After some initial nervousness I settled into speaking earnestly about how I came to be a full-time painter: how in college a small group of us decided to embark on a more traditional route of approaching our work as we had a calling to do more studio/gallery work than commercial work...and the beautiful thing is that our instructors at Sheridan College supported and encouraged this rerouting of creative spirit. I will never forget that.

"Gayle (stool)", oil on panel, 48"x36"

The main point that I tried to emphasize to everyone listening is what we have heard time and time again: that anything that we dream of is possible, that we can do whatever we want with our lives, with our careers as artists and creative people, that the only limits are those which we place upon ourselves. I was pleased to see some people nodding their heads and some were jotting down notes too. I spoke of the value of discipline and most importantly, I stressed to the listeners to find out what makes each of them unique as creative people, what sets them apart, and to capitalize upon that. The key is finding that beautiful and individual ingredient within each of us...and cultivating it.

Below are some quotations from my talk that I wanted to share here. They resonate with me very much and I use them as touchstones when I need a little push of inspiration:

"Find a job you love and you will never work a day in your life."~Confucius

"In the depths of winter I finally discovered that there was in me an invincible summer." ~Albert Camus

"What lies behind us and what lies before us are small matters compared to what lies within us." ~Ralph Waldo Emerson

"Go confidently in the direction of your dreams! Live the life you've imagined. As you simplify your life, the laws of the universe will be simpler." ~Henry David Thoreau

"The most regretful people on earth are those who felt the call to creative work, who felt their own creative power restive and uprising, and gave it neither power nor time." ~Mary Oliver

"The worst enemy to creativity is self-doubt." ~Sylvia Plath

"Painting is self-discovery. Every good artist paints what he is."~Jackson Pollock

"What would life be if we had no courage to attempt anything?" ~Vincent Van Gogh

"Gayle, Snowshoeing", Oil On Canvas, 36"x48"

Speaking to these artists was very rewarding. I spoke to a few people afterwards who wanted to talk briefly and I was pleased to hear that they enjoyed the talk and were inspired. There's no greater feeling than to inspire another artist to pick up their brush or approach the copper plate with more gusto! There was a certain bliss felt in that moment, in speaking and communicating verbally what you are compelled to do with your life and work. I look forward to doing more lectures and speaking engagements in the future!

I can hardly believe it but the Newfoundland Portraits Exhibition is less than three weeks away! I will be doing an informal artist talk on November 14th at Abbozzo Gallery from 2-4pm where I will speak about the creation of the paintings and the journey to Newfoundland. I hope to see you both at the opening and at the talk!

With warmest wishes,

Heather

Newfoundland Portraits

November 5-22nd, 2009

Opening Reception November 6th, 7-10pm

Abbozzo Gallery

179 Lakeshore Road East, Oakville, Ontario, Canada

Come out, see some artwork and listen to special musical guests

The Killin' Time Band who will be playing

some East Coast-inspired songs for your enjoyment!

Informal Artist Talk: November 14th, 2-4pm, Abbozzo Gallery

Of breaks, bruises and the message behind it all...

Painting with my cat Sasha

"The world breaks everyone and afterwards some are strong at the broken places." 

~Ernest Hemingway

Nine days ago I broke my foot. Six days ago I put my hand through a glass window, badly cutting it in the process. Granted the glass in the window was old and my hand slipped off of the wood frame, but this injury and my foot in an aircast after fracturing my fifth metatarsal have caused me to wonder about what the universe is trying to say here. There is a message and meaning to everything that happens to us in life. The answers I know will be revealed in good time. Patience, ever the virtue and something I struggle with, will win in the end. 

The irony is that for weeks this summer I trekked through some of the burliest country in North America in the Alaskan Interior, slashing and hacking, climbing and slipping. Yet, here not ten minutes from my homes, the simplest of twists when I was not looking where I was going changes your life in a large way. However, instead of wallowing in the situation I am trying to use the time to accomplish some solid work and continue to prepare for the Newfoundland Portraits exhibition which is now less than three months away. I am also continuing work on paintings based on Christopher McCandless' photographs of his odyssey around North America which will eventually form an exhibition as well, happening in either 2011 or 2012. 

My physician advised me to keep my cast on as often as possible and to elevate my foot frequently. I have had to devise a way to paint with my foot raised up, which is no feat (pun intended). However I think the greatest lesson that I can discern from this break, at least for now, is how much we take mobility in life for granted. I realize now that running is out of the question, that moving quickly is not in my vocabulary for the next while, how fortunate we are when we can move as swiftly as our feet can carry us. It makes me appreciate each day and each task that we can do ourselves with even more humility and gratitude. Plus, it is an opportunity to focus energy that might have been spent on other things, towards my painting. I have included a photo of the cast on the edge of my easel while I paint below. Not terribly exciting but fortunately I have a job where I can work in this condition. 

I have about five weeks left with the cast and other than learning to hobble as well as possible with this aircast my work is coalescing and paintings are being completed, new ones begun and I am thankful for the support of friends and family too. My friend Gayle brought some fresh vegetables from her garden and some  homemade  vegan! chickpea salad for me. Thank-you almost doesn't do justice to these beautiful acts of kindness. 

In terms of what is happening in the studio I will include two pictures of paintings in progress for you to see what I have been up to. 

This is not a great photo but you get the idea here. This gentleman is a great character and kind soul who I met while in Wesleyville, Newfoundland last September. I loved his small shed with the low door frame and asked him to stand in that space. I enjoyed the darkness behind him and love to do paintings with doors and frames that are echoed in the shape of the canvas itself. Thus George posed for me for a few minutes and I am working hard to have this painting completed by month's end. 

This painting is one that is very near and dear to my heart. I expect to have it finished in one more solid day's work. It is a painting based on Chris McCandless' photo of his backpack on the Stampede Trail in the Alaskan Interior on or around April 28th, 1992. He had just been dropped off by Jim Gallien, an electrician who gave him a lift as far as he could down the uneven Stampede Road that becomes Stampede Trail eventually. Chris would have been alone on the trail for the first time and probably his pack was the first and logical thing to take a picture of as a symbol of himself, his journey, his philosophy. There is almost an Ansel Adamsesque quality to his shot, a quality that I wanted to capture in my painting as faithfully as possible. I will post the completed painting on my other blog, Heather Horton Artwork as soon as it is finished and Chris' parents have seen it. 

On a side note, I am trying to start thinking about a way to make the exhibition of paintings related to Chris' life and photographs a traveling exhibit. Christopher was a traveler, and I thought how appropriate a traveling exhibit would be for such a peripatetic man, a beautiful soul who turned thought into action and his incredible odyssey is a testament to that philosophy. I am sure Chris would agree with Henry David Thoreau, a hero of his, to "not lose hold of your dreams or aspirations. For if you do, you may still exist but you have ceased to live." Therefore if anyone reading this blog entry has any ideas about publicly or government-funded galleries looking to exhibit these paintings about Chris' life and journey, please send me a message. I would like to start planning this exhibit now, because the time to show them will arrive soon!

Here are some other paintings I have done based on Christopher's photographs so far. 

"Chris' Canoe, Near Golfo", oil on panel, 18"x24"

"Odyssey By Train", oil on panel, 18"x24"

"To The Sea", oil on canvas, 24"x36"

My apologies for the delay in blogging lately. A constellation of factors have contributed but I wanted to let you know about why I have not written in that it really is a time of production and distillation..a quietly exciting time, a time like no other :) 

Take care and have a beautiful weekend,

Heather

"We could never learn to be brave and patient if there were only joy in the world"

~Helen Keller

Here is some information on my solo show, Portraits Of Newfoundland. This exhibit will focus on the beautiful people and places I encountered on a journey there last September. I hope to see you at the opening! 

Portraits Of Newfoundland

November 5-22nd, 2009

Abbozzo Gallery, Oakville, Ontario

Opening Reception November 6th, 7-10pm

Sharing Happiness: Camping At Rockwood Conservation Area

"I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, 

to front only the essential facts of life,

 and see if I could not learn what it had to teach,

 and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived."

Henry David Thoreau 

Thoreau's words have resonated and connected with people throughout the many decades since he wrote them. He speaks the truth. To live deeply, mindfully and authentically, benefits everyone, from who we are at our deepest levels to who share our lives with. I found this very passage amidst much graffiti in Union Station in Toronto, shortly after my friend Jay had arrived from Cape Breton for three weeks of camping, socializing and Blue Jays games. This passage stood out in bold green in between declarations and admonishments, dreams and fears that were scribbled all around it. I took note.  

Part of Jay's journey out to Ontario from the rugged and remote island of Cape Breton on the east coast of Canada was to go with me camping to Rockwood Conservation Area near Guelph. Rockwood had been recommended to me by other friends who have camped there many times over the years. We booked a campsite far in advance according to their suggestion. 

To say that experiences differ from one place and time to another is a huge understatement. Just a few days previous we had been surrounded by thousands of people at a Toronto Blue Jays game, deep in the company of multitudes cheering and enjoying the festivities. Here however, was an altogether different adventure. It was quite a place, possessing a good degree of civility without being a distraction from the experience of being in the woods. I had returned not one month previous from the backcountry of Alaska that you can read about here, and Jay is from a very remote area of Canada so there was plenty of discussion surrounding the contrasts and similarities to each place. We took every opportunity to appreciate Rockwood for what it was, very special, a unique and beautiful place to explore a quiet little pocket of Ontario. 

Our tent at the campsite. 

We spent a total of two nights and two days at Rockwood. On our second day we explored the two main trails that are found within the park. They were beautiful and easy to negotiate. It gave us a chance to really see the area and there were some lovely cliffs and rock formations that we encountered along the way. We saw quite a few people on our hikes but we didn't feel crowded, instead focusing on what we saw along the way and appreciating this unique place: beautiful mirrored ponds, foliage of every shape and colour imaginable, birdsong in almost every tree and the sheer enjoyment of experiencing each turn in the path for what it was. 

I loved the juxtaposition of vertical trees and horizontal rocks here.

 Perhaps a future painting?

These reflections captivated us as we walked past

Jay and I are inspired by the works of Thoreau, Emerson, Mary Oliver, John Muir and others. These are people who have outlined a philosophy of living that we respond to strongly. We possess an appreciation and reverence for the beauty of the unexplained and the sublime complexity of the natural world that surrounds us. Thus, Alaska and crashing waves in Cape Breton were not needed...all we needed was the trees, a path (or not) and our openness to experience as much as we could from what we encountered along the way. These authors and poets move us deeply and have profoundly affected our lives. I will include a poem by Mary Oliver at the bottom of this entry that illustrates what I am trying to say more succinctly than I can here. 

A path through cedar trees winding down to the water below

We rented a canoe in the afternoon of our second day, which provided another form of hypnosis: instead of the quiet crunch of foliage underfoot we listened to the soothing rhythm of the paddles cutting the water and the vantage point the lake provided us as we gazed up at tall rock with pockets of caves, framed by cedars on either side. We paddled by the old Woolen Mill which was build over a hundred years ago. It seems almost out of place in such a forested area, this shell of a regal building standing in a clearing, surrounded by the woods. 

The old Woolen Mill

We enjoyed ourselves at Rockwood and took away as many experiences as we could in that short period of time. It is very close to where I live (about an hour away) yet seemed much more remote. My tent held up beautifully in the rain and was easy to put together (so easy that it made me realize how easy it will be to travel on other adventures with Jay). Co-operation is key. We had some great fires and great conversations too, exactly what our goal had been. Half the fun of going on camping and hiking trips is the company, who you share your memories and experiences with. Sharing happiness in your life with others makes life worth living, without question. Solitude has its place too of course, but when we choose march briefly with a similar drummer, whole new vistas of appreciation and potential open up to both of you. 

 

Mornings at Blackwater Pond

by Mary Oliver

For years, every morning, I drank

from Blackwater Pond.

It was flavored with oak leaves and also, no doubt,

the feet of ducks.

And always it assuaged me

from the dry bowl of the very far past.

What I want to say is

that the past is the past,

and the present is what your life is,

and you are capable 

of choosing what that will be,

darling citizen.

So come to the pond,

or the river of your imagination, 

or the harbor of your longing,

and put your lips to the world.

And live 

your life.

My solo exhibition of Newfoundland paintings is fast approaching! I hope you can make it out to the show. Here are the details:

Portraits Of Newfoundland

November 5-22nd, 2009

Abbozzo Gallery, Oakville, Ontario

Opening Reception November 6th, 7-10pm

A Note On Music

 Flying over The Yukon Territory

"After silence, that which comes nearest to expressing the inexpressible is music."

~Aldous Huxley

I have fallen in love with music: classical music that is. I have loved it since I was a child (I still have my old copy of Beethoven's Triple Concerto tucked away somewhere) but recently I have found some new pieces that move me very much. 

My friend Brian, a music teacher and brilliant guy, has helped open my eyes to the beauty that exists within classical music. I always knew it was there, but the difference is that now I paint while I listen to it...and that brings forth some wonderful emotions and observations about the nuances of the my painting and the music in the air while I am working.

Please keep in mind I know next to nothing about music, how to create it or how to analyze it...I simply know what I like. I suppose this point of view is similar to many people who look at art- they don't know why they like something, they just like it. And really, that is all that matters isn't it? However, there is something to be said for having an understanding of how a thing of beauty is constructed. To have a knowledge of what goes into a piece of gorgeous music can enhance one's appreciation of it, and thus our enjoyment of it as well. There are three pieces of music in particular that have captured my ear lately. 

The first piece of music is the Prelude to Bach's Cello Suite No 1. You can see a video of it here. Now, keep in mind I have no idea how to play music or read music, other than two years of voice lessons when I was growing up, so excuse any inaccuracies that I might utter here. 

This piece of music, while widely popular, moves me every time I hear it. It reminds me of a soothing voice, a confident voice in the darkness. I also think of it as a breeze that circles around you on the side of a hill, you can feel it there and then it is gone. It is throaty and unrelentingly beautiful, from the first note to the last. 

The second piece of music that has literally hypnotized me is Erik Satie's Trois Gymnopedie. There is a video of it here. I first heard this piece of music as part of the score to the unbelievable documentary Man On Wire. If you have not seen this documentary, about Philippe Petit, go rent it now. Satie's music softly framed the beauty of Petit's unbelievable feats of patience, balance, and sheer courage. Now I paint to it and it transports my mind away from the paint and right back to it. It is sublime, truly. This seemingly simple piece of music, where the notes seem ready to fall to the ground but continue to hang in the air, casts a spell on me ever time I hear it.

The third piece of music is Claude Debussy's Clair De Lune. I remember hearing it over the years but finally tracked down the name of it last year.  There is not much I can say about it other than it is gorgeous. It has an optimistic tone to it, a sense of curiosity and a revelatory feel, as though whomever is listening to it is about to make a profound discovery. 

I think listening to these pieces of music really demonstrates how varied and beautiful music truly is. Music touches all of our lives, no matter where we are or who we are. It is an art that is probably as old or older than the earliest drawings in caves. Music and art have been around for so long I think perhaps because they unite us, they encourage community and create connections, they also take us away to another place and they can alter the way we live our lives. When we are affected by something beautiful or moving, be it Beethoven or Sargent, we catch our breaths sometimes, and try to grasp what it is we are hearing and seeing. Perhaps their beauty is elusive and thus even more attractive because of it. 

Here is some information on my upcoming solo exhibition in November of 2009. I hope to see you there!

Newfoundland Portraits

November 5-22nd, 2009

Abbozzo Gallery, Oakville, Ontario

Opening Reception November 6th, 7-10pm

"When I hear music, I fear no danger. I am invulnerable. I see no foe. I am related to the earliest times, and to the latest."~Henry David Thoreau

Resilience During Recession

"The world is but a canvas to the imagination." ~Henry David Thoreau

When people occasionally ask me if I see the glass as half-empty or half-full I reply that "it depends on what's in the glass". Despite its cheekiness I think there is truth to the statement. What is it that makes your life pithy, filled with beautiful complexity or graceful simplicity? How did you get to where you are, do you savor the moment, and what do you wish to do with the exciting days before you?

These last few months have seen a decided dip in our economy. Recession has gripped the world and like it or not we are all affected. I remain optimistic that history will repeat itself and that eventually things will turn around once again. As an artist, it is particularly difficult right now because one of the first things that people want to do to alleviate financial strain is to spend less, and paintings are not exactly a "necessity". I am sure, however, that some passionate artists and collectors would heartily disagree. Thus I, like everyone, have to ride out the storm and continue to produce work, taking comfort that I will have a great group of paintings waiting to greet the sun and the gallery when this tempest has passed. 

  Hiking up Little Whistler Peak in Whistler, British Columbia

I have spoken with colleagues about the situation recently and all soberly advise me to "keep your head down, keep producing paintings and it will be ok". That is exactly what I shall continue to do. I have a solo show in less than a year so I have a large amount of work that I can do between now and November. I doubt that the recession will have passed by November 2009 but I simply cannot wait to show these paintings of Newfoundland.  That is why one keeps creating...out of spiritual necessity, emotional conviction and the desire to share your vision with the world. What more could a person want?

Being frugal out of necessity is tough. Being frugal out of choice is enjoyable. The gap between need and want has been growing over the years thanks among many things to successful marketing. However perhaps now, in the dimly lit room of our present economy, we can cherish the worn t-shirt rather than tossing it out, make more meals at home with our loved ones rather than splurging at a restaurant and perhaps refocus on what is most important: the things that money simply cannot buy.

"There is an ecstasy that marks the summit of life, and beyond which life cannot rise. And such is the paradox of living, this ecstasy comes when one is most alive, and it comes as a complete forgetfulness that one is alive."~Jack London

P.S. 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.

"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

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.