"Emilie, Takhini North", and An Inaugural Snowshoeing

"We must let go of the life we have planned,

 so as to accept the one that is waiting for us."~Joseph Campbell

Even before darkening the doorway of The Yukon Territory I began making friends. Through past housesitting/hiking stints in the Territory, as well as via social media and friends in Ontario, I was excited to connect with people here. Emilie is one such friend. 

This painting resulted from a walk up in a subdivision of Whitehorse called Takhini North. It is amazing how our brains remember subtle topographies. In large urban areas we naturally remember buildings or man made structures to orientate ourselves within a space. Up here, there are a few buildings, yes, but natural structures vastly outweigh those built with human hands. Mountains have faces as well as people, and many folks have seen this painting and said "I know exactly where that is!"

Emilie had recently picked up this amazing blue coat at Unity Clothing here in Whitehorse. The intense, cobalt-blue hue was instantly appealing, especially in contrast with her amazing red hair. 

This was the first portrait I completed after moving to Whitehorse. It is 30"x40", a good size, oil on canvas. My gallery in Toronto, Abbozzo Gallery, has it now. It is on display currently if you wish to see it in person. Looking at images on a small scale is deceptive, especially when it comes to art. One needs to step closer to a painting to really see the "guts" of the thing, to see how an artist makes the work what it is. I paint very thinly, so I utilize directionality in brushwork to add structure and depth. Up close it is easier to see the subtleties. 

I have been in the Yukon Territory for four months now. Four months to let my bones settle into this place. The people are as warm as the temperatures are cold. There is community, and resiliency, and pride. I am proud to call The Yukon home. I can understand how city mice can be unhelmed by the quiet, by the space, by the solitude. It does force you to become better acquainted with the vagaries of your heart and mind. It does invite introspection...and it does so in spades. After living in a suburban environment up until now, with only periodic, bucolic adventures, it is a bit overwhelming at times. It is good. It is an opportunity to learn and find peace within the abundantly quiet moments. 

Recently I went snowshoeing here outside of town with some friends. I had never snowshoed before, and we did a 21km trek out near Fish Lake. It was great fun. Brisk, at -15ºC that day, but we kept moving and worked up a little sweat. Above, Greg takes off into the dawn. 

I took my trusty Arc'teryx Altra pack with me on this snowshoe. This pack has gone with me on treks in The Yukon, Iceland and The Faroe Islands. It's light, and a good size for an overnight hike or a long day hike. Here's a link: Arc'teryx Altra 48 L

The trek was a gradual uphill for the first 5km, then a slow but continuous descent for the majority of it. It made for some nice views. We passed a few cross country skiers and their dogs. People up here love to be out in the elements. And who wouldn't? 

The sun came out in the last half hour of the snowshoe. There is so little pollution up here that light is not hindered by anything. It is intense, and vibrant, and there are colours that practically glow in even the quietest shadows. The blues are so luminous it defies belief. I am fortunate to be here, to have no departure date, to dwell amongst the mountains, finally :) 

Have a beautiful day,

Heather

“I learned this, at least, by my experiment; that if one advances confidently in the direction of his dreams, and endeavors to live the life which he has imagined, he will meet with a success unexpected in common hours. . ."~Henry David Thoreau

Yukon Life: If You're Happy No Amount Of Darkness Matters.

"Winter kept us warm, covering Earth in a forgetful snow, feeding A little life with dried tubers." ~T.S. Eliot

These days in Whitehorse, the sun rises at about 9:48 am and sets just before 4pm. That's 6 precious hours to cast a shadow. And the sun doesn't mess around. True, the dawns and dusks seem more lengthy, but the darkness always wins. I feel as though I am on a night shift, even though I have never worked one before. 

The other morning, lying in bed, cocooned in a web of blankets and I thought about what changes I notice most about these colder days. My sweet cottage is a tiny castle….diminutive in size but large in charm. I love that it has a slant…cupboard doors swing open wildly, my studio chair is always wanting to roll away from the easel. It reminds me of quaint little cottages in Newfoundland. It only has two rooms, plus a small bathroom. It is all I need. It doesn't take you long in a small space to realise how much is superfluous. You become discerning out of necessity. 

Dawn at Fish Lake a few weeks ago

In the mornings, in the dark, there are few sounds outside of my cottage. My bed is against two exterior walls, so it is quite refreshing when it is -30ºC. I huddle under my Hudson's Bay blanket and Icelandic throw picked up in Reykjavik. I hear cars driving slowly down the lane way behind the cottage, the snow protesting in strange, dry squeaks. My neighbour says foxes are fond of the lane way, which makes me happy, knowing they are out there padding around in their fluffy auburn raiment. As I drove along Robert Service Way paralleling the Yukon River there other day I saw a fox cross up ahead of me. Thankfully he stood still and regarded me as I drove past…this beautiful creature out in the freezing cold, just doing his thing. Lovely.

The windows of Rose Cottage have had a whole story of their own this past month as the cold has set in. I have moisture in my cottage that is forming elaborate ice formations, almost stalactites, inside my storm windows, and in the case of my bedroom window, which doesn't have a storm window, in my room. It's weird to see the ice there, not melting, even though my cottage is 17ºC. Outside the ice blooms into floral patterns, dancing horses, tendrils of icy, tiny leviathans, otherworldly plants. Watching them shift with the alternating temperature is like watching clouds pass overhead and forming them into stories. 

When it gets below minus 25 the cold starts to do crazy things. Everything becomes more brittle. Even the water in our bodies starts to slow down and freeze…the pain of having exposed flesh sets in quickly. I have already begun stocking my car with emergency supplies, even though I don't want to drive too far out of town until I get snow tires. 

Layers of light at Fish Lake

Sasha's coat is getting thicker by the day. I love that he is on this journey with me, adapting and learning about life up here in the North. The biggest bummer is the ice on the windows. While beautiful, it is an impediment for him as he loves watching the world go by. In a 450 square cottage, he can use all of the activity he can find. He is my constant companion...5,400km driven together across this great country of Canada. I am proud of him. A tiny trooper.

Sasha Fierce

Mist rising off of the Yukon River at 9am last week...

The other day it was about -34ºC with the windchill. I saw light and mist rising off of the Yukon River. In a few minutes I had snapped a photo of a sun dog…my first! It is a beautiful phenomenon that I believe is specific to cold environments. It has to do with some sort of specific refraction of light…I think...it's a bit of magic undeniably. 

The darkness is pervasive this time of year. It is new, and fun, and slightly intimidating. But I realized the other morning with some momentary clarity: when you are happy, no amount of darkness matters.

Yukon Living...The Sweetest Peace

The timber wolves will be our friends.

We'll stay up late and howl,

At the moon, till nighttime ends,

Before going on the prowl.

Oh, what a life! We cannot wait,

To be in that arctic land,

Where we'll be masters of our fate,

And lead a life that's grand!

~excerpt from Calvin & Hobbes' "The Yukon Song", by Bill Watterson

It has been almost three weeks since I arrived in Whitehorse, Yukon Territory. The drive was truly an odyssey, and the peace that has followed has also been overwhelming. After so many months of planning, my dream really has come true.

The air here is as clean as I remember. No more hacking cough from particulate in the air. The roads are quiet, much quieter than what I am used to. Everything is within a five minute walk as I am downtown. The Yukon river is 350 m away.

Emerald Lake. I drove too far and missed the turnoff to a friend's house

...but this was a great site to pass despite my error:)

The community here is close knit and supportive. There is always something going on. The cold and snow is just par for the course for the people here in the Yukon. Each time of day here, each moment of each season, changes almost before your eyes.

An unkindness of ravens surveyed the Yukon River as I walked by them yesterday...

McLean Lake. Went jogging here one day. No one around as usual. Perfect:)

Recently as I drove down the Robert Service Expressway into Whitehorse I looked across at Grey Mountain (or Canyon Mountain, it's proper name) across The Yukon River. I was struck by the rivulets of golden-yellow tendrils of far off trees whose leaves were reaching up onto the mountain as far as possible. Within 24 hours many leaves have given up the ghost and dropped down to the forest floor, like bright little mandalas. Beautiful. Ephemeral.

Driving down the South Klondike Hihgway...I see mountains every day now. Joy!

I will often paint in my little studio all day and then go for a 3-5 mile hike on Grey Mountain. There are well marked trails and you will rarely see another person. More likely you will see a porcupine, deer, or even a bear. This year has been a bumper crop in terms of berries I hear, and so some friends and I are going berry picking on the weekend. A true Northern tradition. I made some cranberry jam today, and will be blogging about that process, as well as the process of picking the berries.

Hidden Lake, which I passed on a recent hike. 

I have spent so much time and energy thinking about being here, planning, organizing, that the peace felt now that I'm settling in is palpable. All of that energy can now rest and be turned over into the soil of this new place. I honesty cannot remember being this happy. This place is polarizing. So much happening yet so much quiet and stillness if you turn away from the hum as well.

It is definitely autumn here in The Yukon..

Sasha is getting used to the little cottage where I live. His space has lessened but his personality is just as big and he keeps me up regularly at night wanting to play. What a trooper. I knew he could do the trip, and now his coat is getting thicker each day. He will need the extra insulation as the snow will be flying within two weeks most likely.

Moody skies at Lewes Lake, off the South Klondike Highway

Each day when I step out of my little cottage I am so thankful. I look at the mountains across the river and breathe the clean air and smile. I need nothing more. My cup is full, and The Yukon is a cup that never runs dry. 

Yukon Bound Day 6...Grande Prairie,AB to Muncho Lake,BC

 

"Emergencies have always been necessary to progress. 

It was darkness which produced the lamp. 

It was fog that produced the compass. 

It was hunger that drove us to exploration."~Victor Hugo

 I thought that Blogger was being temperamental but switching browsers had enabled me to actually upload photos, which is half the fun when reading a blog. Today was the second last day of my grand journey across Canada. I drove from Grande Prairie, Alberta to Munch Lake, British Columbia. About 11 hours of driving and stopping for breaks. It was pretty epic in beauty and distance. I hope you enjoy the photos I have included here. 

The dawn, seen above, was outstanding. One of those days that looks like the sound of a light bulb breaking. Intense and blinding and satisfying all in one. A fracture of colour that cracks across the sky, with colour that seeps out where the sky has broken. That, combined with copious amounts of fog, made for an absolutely stellar dawn as I drove through Dawson Creek (mile '0' of the Alaska Highway), Taylor, Fort St. John, Fort Nelson, Wonowon, Toad River, and finally Muncho Lake Provincial Park, where I am tonight.

 

 

 I had to chuckle when I entered my address in Whitehorse in the GPS. The distance until the next turn, seen in the upper left hand corner, made me smile. 

  

Today was all nature. The architecture to admire was the mountains, the streams, the rivers, the wildlife. Lots of signs warning me about bison and caribou around every corner. I saw four caribou...gorgeous and pretty unmoved by the vehicles so close to them. 

The expanses that opened up north of Fort Nelson were beyond compare. Lots of solitude, trees as far as the eye could see, sunshine and two lane blacktop. No billboards. All awesome. A good audiobook (I am finishing listening to 'Ready Player One' by Ernest Cline. The audiobook is read by Wil Wheaton, who does a bang up job of it. If you haven't read it, get it. Great book. If you are a child of the 80's, a nerd, geek, a John Hughes or Rush fan, or any other member of that subculture, it is for you :)

 The yellows foliage was gorgeous today. I have seen lots of photos recently on Instagram from Yukon residents snapping pictures of leaves changing, and I saw plenty of it today. All mottled green and yellow together, it is as though the hillsides and mountains were trying to catch fire, but very slowly, like trying to making a fire with damp wood, not a quick process. The brilliant yellows and greens, juxtaposed against the blue sky made for some amazing horizons to chase.

 

I forget which river this was but it is irrelevant...the braids and branches of it weaving under the bridge brought back memories of my first trip to Alaska in 2008. That trip and subsequent ones have all been working towards this moment of moving up here. How could one NOT want to be within this landscape? 

 

Around a couple of turns I saw four caribou in total. They were a chocolate brown, and there was a calf with his/her mother here in this shot. The mother was so sweet, nudging him up the game trail in front of her. A sweetness that was palpable. To see creatures like these, wild and almost untouched by any sight of human beings, is like seeing magic happen right before your eyes. And, like magic, it usually is gone quickly. Thank goodness for cameras and art :)

They were like shadows that could disappear if you looked away.

 

Finally after hundreds of winding kilometres I arrived at Muncho Lake Provincial Park. The lake is that gorgeous blue that you see in healthy environments. 

The dining room of the lodge where I am staying. Log cabins/homes/structures are the best.

 

Another long day in the saddle today for Sasha. Here he is helping me write this blog entry. I never thought he would handle this whole process as well as he has. It has made it so much less stressful than it could have been. I cannot wait to see what paintings come from this experience. New friends will become new muses, and the space and freshness of this land is the perfect catalyst for focused painting. I cannot wait...setting up my studio this week...:)

Tomorrow...at long last....WHITEHORSE, YUKON TERRITORY! 

Have a wonderful week and thanks for reading...

Heather

Yukon Bound! Day 1--Burlington, Ontario to Sault Ste. Marie

White Lightning all packed up and ready for the road.

"Adventure is worthwhile in itself."~Amelia Earhart 

So the journey has begun! Operation Yukon is in full swing. Day One is complete. I drove from Burlington to Sault Ste Marie. About 9 hours in the seat of my Subaru all told. My cat Sasha is my co-pilot for the entire journey. We are making our way to Whitehorse, in the Yukon Territory. I have written about my love of the North before I so I shall get right to observations about the drive today.

For fun I entered my address in Whitehorse in my Garmin first thing this morning. This was the notification I received. Awesome, and ironic from one of the world's top GPS companies. To appease the device I changed my goal to my end of the day stop, Sault Ste Marie. About 700km or 450 miles give or take. 

I built a little shelf in Sasha's crate. This way his litter is below, along with his food and water. He slept most of the day. What a trooper!

The day started off slowly with lots of stop and go traffic until I was north of Toronto. Still, glad I was on the road at a reasonable hour. The traffic and haze dissipated slowly and before I knew it the rocky humps of The Canadian Shield were everywhere...the highway cutting through large sections of seemingly impenetrable rock. Mixed forests sitting atop grey rock, crimson sumacs starting to bleed into the landscape. Although my destination was on my mind I tried to enjoy the beautiful scenery as much as possible. 

Fog set in around Kilarney area and stayed off and on until beyond Sudbury. A deluge hit while I was driving into Sault Ste Marie. Incredible rainfall. Glad I made it to the hotel just in time. 

Lots of fog everywhere today. A nice opportunity to deploy the fog lights on my Subie.

Approaching The French River. I remember this drive so well from childhood. Summer vacations up on Manitoulin Island...this was part of the long drive around rather than taking the ferry from Tobermory to South Baymouth.

Another shot of the bridge over The French River. It's funny how you can not drive a stretch of road for over 20 years and yet remember hills and valleys and places like they were yesterday...from some far off place in your heart that comes right back up to the surface when you see the landscape again.

 

Further on up Highway 69 I came to a place where my family vacationed one summer..Point Au Baril. I remembered where to turn and that there would be a rail bridge...sure enough there it was. Quite nostalgic. 

The Sign leading to Espanola, and on south to Manitoulin Island. I had never been west of this intersection before up here...but I was today. I drove along the North Channel of Lake Huron, and it was gorgeous. 

 Finally in my room in Sault Ste Marie. This is what I eat when I have options on the road...that vegan jerky is actually awesome if you can find it...tomorrow...Thunder Bay!

Wordpress website revamp, exhibition dates and more...

"Self Portrait With Sasha", oil on canvas, 18"x24", available at Abbozzo Gallery

Love many things, for therein lies the true strength, and whosoever loves much performs much, and can accomplish much, and what is done in love is done well.~Vincent Van Gogh

So I finally did it. I have moved my website over from Flash to Wordpress. I have been dealing with this antiquated Flash site for years and now finally there's an easy-to-navigate site that makes viewing my paintings much easier. Please check it out and let me know what you think if you are inclined. I'm so happy to have a website that you can view on your mobile device now :)

Heather Horton Artwork

This site is a work in progress and I will continue to add new sold paintings to the body of work on the site. The above painting is one of only two remaining paintings that I will be posting before my solo exhibition at Abbozzo Gallery in November 2012. I want to keep some paintings back so there will be a surprise for people to see at the gallery. I have official dates for the show as well!

New Paintings

November 2-17th, 2012

Abbozzo Gallery, Oakville, Ontario, Canada

Opening Reception Friday November 2, 7-10pm

Artist Meet And Greet Sunday November 4, 2-4pm

179 Lakeshore Road East, Oakville, Ontario, Canada

905-844-4481, toll free 1-866-844-4481

I know it is a bit early to post this information but it is also good to plan ahead! In fact two paintings have already pre-sold before the show(!!), thus if you are interested in any pieces please contact the gallery.

The painting you see at the top of this entry, "Self-Portrait With Sasha", oil on canvas, 18"x24", is another painting about self-reflection and a bit of existential pondering. Sasha, my beloved Russian Blue cat, wandered through my composition while I was shooting reference as he likes being near me. I thought I would incorporate his form subtly at the bottom...not immediately evident but there upon closer inspection. 

I have had people tell me that my portraits seem sad. I suppose this could be so, but they are about contemplation and reflection rather than sadness most of the time. How often do we lie and think but have a huge smile on our faces? Not often I believe. I love smiling and to it a lot, but my paintings are about seeing someone in the middle of a moment. My great inspiration, Lucian Freud, and any number of painters over the years have not painted people smiling. But I think that is what distinguishes art from Sears Portraiture. It is not pat. It is not always tidy. It is the beautiful messiness of life that I try to instill into my paintings.

In less than a month I will be off to Western Kentucky University to lecture, critique student work and experience their wonderful art program. I am bringing some paintings down with me for a small exhibition as well. I will write about the experience here and post photos of course.

I hope this post finds you well and happy. Thank-you for following and reading. Thank-you for supporting artists such a myself and investing in our continued pursuits to express with paint what words cannot.

Heather

A couple of photographs to share with you...

My 'Alaska Fund'...saving up to return

And finally a photo that makes me very happy....one of the most beautiful stretches of road I have ever had the pleasure to drive a number of times, entering into Haines Junction near Kluane National Park, Yukon Territory. This photograph was taken last September...

The soul should always stand ajar, ready to welcome the ecstatic experience.~Emily Dickinson

Enduring the maudlin and loving reprobates

"Self-Portrait with Sasha"(in progress), oil on canvas, 18"x24"

I love to write but often feel that I need to write about a new painting or some type of epic adventure. This doesn't need to be the case. I need to use this space as more of a journalling opportunity. It is rather terrifying and also quite cathartic. Thus the next few entries might be shorter and I apologize if they are much longer with more to wade through...Regardless, here goes...

I have been watching films like no one's business lately. Recent films seen include:

My Week With Marilyn
J. Edgar
The Tree Of Life
Extremely Loud And Incredibly Close
Crazy. Stupid. Love.
The Artist
Hugo (3D)
The Descendants
Midnight In Paris
War Horse

I thought some of these films to be an utter waste of my time and others were sweet and charming. Some were poignant and a bit pat, but still very good. The most overrated films I found to be 'The Artist' and 'Extremely Loud And Incredibly Close'. I could write a whole polemic on each but will save you the time of reading them. Just please, if you want to see Hollywood schlock, watch 'Extremely Loud And Incredibly Close'. The young actor in it...is an incredibly annoying character. Trust me. I thought 'Midnight In Paris' and 'Crazy. Stupid. Love.' were excellent. They didn't try too hard. They were just lovely and hilarious. Do you know of Terrence Malick's films? Good. If not, I envy you. Malick should just do NOVA specials rather than feature films. His cinematography is beautiful but please, no more with the highly paid actors wandering about in barren landscapes trying to appear to be deep, okay?

In other news I have a new addiction: spin class. I love it. Now the instructor is crucial to your class enjoyment. The strangest and most idiosyncratic instructors are the best. I find their quirks compelling and entertaining.Therefore it is their classes that I return to faithfully. It's a great opportunity for a bang-up aerobic workout. Plus it saves your knees from all of the abuse they withstand on the road or on the treadmill. I find 3 spin classes as week combined with a yoga class, weights and running is a perfect routine to give you lots of energy and happiness. Plus I'm "training" for a 160km hike across the western edge of Greenland next year with my friend from Whitehorse so that helps motivate me as well! Goals are so important. If you don't have one, make acquiring a goal your goal. My lungs need travel to breathe. Travel and adventure are the air that sustains me.

Atop Mount White near Whitehorse, in the Yukon Territory

Last but not least I was thinking about my artistic inspirations today. My first inspiration as a college student was the artist Tamara de Lempicka. She lived and painted in my favourite decade, in one of my favourite places: Paris in the 1920's. Can you imagine it? I can. Art Deco, Hemingway, Anais Nin, Henry Miller, and on and on.. Lempicka showed me the beauty and potential of female painters. Frida Kahlo's inspiration came later, but that's another blog entry. I am not as drawn to Tamara as much now, but it is important to give a nod to your inspirational roots. I have already spoken of Andrew Wyeth and Lucian Freud as my other main influences. Sargent is in there too but I'll return to them at another time.

I hope you like the newest painting I am working on, shown above. The finished painting will be on display with my upcoming solo exhibition at Abbozzo Gallery in Oakville, Ontario this autumn.  My cat Sasha wandered into frame as the tripod and camera did their reference collecting for me. I like that Sasha is very subtle and almost not discernible until you really look. He is five pounds soaking wet, five years old,and one of my best friends and closest confidantes. He's patient and never tells my secrets. He loves me unconditionally and is a positive reprobate when I am gone for long periods of time, let alone a couple of hours. I adore him for his beauty and his beautiful flaws. In fact, here is a painting of him....

So these are a few ramblings from me to you. I hope you are having a beautiful last few days of this February as it ebbs away. Thank-you for reading, following, supporting and believing in my painting and me.

Best,

Heather

p.s. I must suggest you acquire the official soundtrack to The Social Network. It is amazing. If you are a Trent Reznor fan I am sure you have it already. If not get it, please. It is perfect to work to, think to, write to, paint to, bathe to, fall asleep to, drive to. Here is a link to information about it... 

p.p.s. David Fincher is a genius.

"What Frida Taught Me"

I want quiet feet on quiet floors and quiet fears behind quiet doors.

"What Frida Taught Me", oil on panel, 36"x24", was inspired by Frida Kahlo's famous 1938 painting "What The Water Gave Me". "What Frida Taught Me" began in Whitehorse, in the Yukon Territory last autumn. I have painted my legs in a bathtub before, but this time, like every time, is different.

There are many reasons as to why artists have painted themselves in bathtubs. These are places where we are cleansed and they are also places of refuge. They are receptacles for our fears and concerns. There is peace to be found here. I began this painting with an idea of revisiting the theme of the previous piece, Quietus, seen here, from years ago:

I enjoy painting the natural world as well as things which cover us. Whether it be fabric or water, anything that surrounds us can serve as a metaphor. It can provide protection and can also wash away layers to reveal important truths. The water in my painting is symbolic of how our minds and bodies are able to have time to heal and reflect (no pun intended) in that place. The quiet drip of the faucet, the occasional creak of the house, these simple sounds become the backdrop for our thoughts as we sculpt our theories, weigh opinions, develop plans and dwell on sentiments. Quite simply, places where we are cleansed are crucibles for all that goes on in our minds.

Perhaps the composition of "What Frida Taught Me" is a bit strange to the casual observer. It makes sense to me though. Haven't we all sat in a similar places and looked down at our legs, faithful friends who have helped us through the world and not questioned why, but simply took us where our minds told them to go? They trust us, and we them.

I had gone on a long hike up Mount White with the Yukon Outdoors Club on the day "What Frida Taught Me" was conceived. I had fallen at the end of the hike but did not paint my injury into the painting. It felt strange to do so. I went with my gut and omitted the gore. I did paint the tan lines from my sandals which seem permanently etched on my feet from hours of hiking and exploring in the sun. This painting was the end of a beautiful, strenuous day. It was the opposite of the previous six hours of ascending and descending the mountain...

 Halfway up the mountain..

Walking along the top of Mount White..glorious:)

Two of my greatest loves are painting and traveling. "What Frida Taught Me" is a representation of many things, and those things change from day to day. Like Frida, I place my life into my painting. It is there to see, but less obviously as the direct symbolism in Frida's work. No my story is more subtle. Like Frida I believe our paintings are places to tell our stories, the painful ones and the pleasurable ones. She lived her life intensely and followed her passion. She "painted her own reality" as she once said. I agree with her. Paint what you know. Listen to that quiet voice, that inner child and and let that voice have the final word on your canvas.

"Feet, why do I need them if I have wings to fly?"~Frida Kahlo