"At Greenspond"

"Colour has taken possession of me; no longer do I have to chase after it. 

I know that it has hold of me forever...Colour and I are one.

 I am a painter."~Paul Klee

"At Greenspond", oil on panel, 24"x12" is all about colour.  I loved the interplay of oranges and auburns at the bottom and the blues and vibrancy of those watery hues at the top of the painting. The rock is an amalgamation of those to compliments, dividing its temperament between warms and cools. I was exploring the trails and rocks that met with the sea that day in the little town of Greenspond...large slabs of organic rock like frozen water, softened by countless waves and storms. 

With this painting I wanted to create a focus on the large rocks almost falling into the foreground. I saw in my mind a vertically-oriented painting, with heavy cropping and a small amount of water and sky. The skies are so clear in Newfoundland (when there isn't fog!), the colours so crisp and clean. It is very similar to Alaska, or probably anywhere that has minimal pollution. Everything is in sharp relief, no blurry edges, but each flower and rock beautifully defined. 

The land and the people in Newfoundland are genuine, the real thing, they exist closely with the land and are intertwined with it, live in close contact with it, cannot help but be shaped by it. The tidal pools that you come across contain little worlds of life ebbing and flowing, reliant upon the tides just like air into lungs. What may appear to the casual passerby is actually a complex ecological system of life and death, beauty, growth and decay that is continually changing right before your eyes. It is magical. The people too are dependent largely on what the land has to offer, from fish to berries, there are cycles to be seen everywhere you look. 

From a technical standpoint this painting was relatively uncomplicated and came together quickly. The water jumps out as it is so vivid there...a deep blue that is even purple in some places (I saw some in Cape Freels). My greatest challenge here was to convey the impression of the hardness and undulation of the rocks...the veins and organic patterns and shapes that twist and braid down the length of each rock. Certainly the most enjoyable area to paint was the burnt orange hues at the bottom where the rock has water on it and the minerals can be seen in an all together different light, darkened and brought to life by the water. 

Oftentimes after months have passed the beauty of a place starts to seep into your blood...like a trickle from a rock bed or the melting of a glacier....slow and steadily you find yourself romanced by a land that you dwelt briefly upon many months ago. The captivating part is that you are not even consciously aware of it. It simply is. I find myself being bewitched by Newfoundland all over again, each time I look through my reference photos to ponder the possibility of a painting here or there...each painting is a reliving of an experience, and in that moment all of the affection and wonder that you felt sitting on that cliff, speaking with that person, hiking down that trail, they all come back to you with an fragile intensity. Anything that moves us to that extent deserves our attention and we must embrace that memory so that we can share it with others, in the form of art, poetry, photography, music, or simply as enthusiastic anecdotes shared between kindred spirits. 

Be well, take good care, and share some happiness today.

Heather

"Colour is my day-long obsession, joy and torment." ~Claude Monet

Here is some information on my upcoming solo exhibition! 

Portraits Of Newfoundland

November 5-22nd, 2009

Abbozzo Gallery, Oakville, Ontario

Opening Reception November 6th, 7-10pm

Chris' Pack, Stampede Trail

“Lara walked along the tracks following a path worn by pilgrims and then turned into the fields. Here she stopped and, closing her eyes took a deep breath of the flower-scented air of the broad expanse around her. It was dearer to her than her kin, better than a lover, wiser than a book. For a moment she rediscovered the purpose of her life. She was here on earth to grasp the meaning of its wild enchantment, and to call each thing by its right name, or, if this were not in her power, to give birth out of love for life, to successors who would do it in her place.”~Boris Pasternak, Dr. Zhivago 

"Chris' Pack, Stampede Trail", oil on panel, 24"x36" is a painting that I knew I had to do as soon as I saw the initial photograph that Chris McCandless took on April 28th, 1992. The photograph was reminiscent of an Ansel Adams vista, the moody, low-slung clouds scuttling across the bleak landscape, the great contrast in value from the pack to the snow....it was all there. 

Chris was dropped off on The Stampede Trail April 28th by Jim Gallien, an electrician on his way to Anchorage, Alaska. He picked Chris up in Fairbanks and gave him a lift down to the Stampede Trail,  taking him as far as his truck could go along the snowy, slippery road. There is a photograph that Gallien took of an excited Chris, rifle over his shoulder, ready to embark on his odyssey into the wilderness, and then there is this photograph (and subsequent painting). Chris was finally, at long last, alone. His pack here represents himself because he was holding the camera. I have painted Chris' backpack before and you can read about that painting, "Odyssey By Train" here.  His pack went everywhere with him, was his home, his life, an extension of himself for those two rambling years of his odyssey. 

There is a melancholic quality to this painting. I have stood in this exact spot on the trail, but in August...with the changing leaves and plentiful foliage rolling out over the vast expanse of land in every direction. Here, however, the snow casts an all together different quality upon the landscape. This painting really is paradoxical in many ways. On the one hand it has a sense of wonder and potential...the trail ahead, beckoning, not knowing where it goes, a dotted line that wends its way out into nothing, a symbol of self-discovery and the culmination of his Tolstoyan philosophy.  On the other other hand there is the knowledge of what happened to Chris, and I am filled with a great sadness too. When I had the privilege of looking through his photographs, this one especially, jumped out and captured my heart immediately. I am glad to have finally completed it. 

From a technical standpoint I wanted to remain true to Chris' vision, as I am trying to do with each painting from his photographs that I have completed. I alter very little. His photograph was shot in black and white, and thus the painting is black and white too. I love mixing blacks, as their is so much beautiful variety in each one. No two blacks are ever the same. We were instructed specifically in art school to never use black out of a tube but learn to mix your own and therein you have more control over all of its beautiful, possible permutations. There's a deep green-black before seashells disappear into the Atlantic, a purple-black that pulls sunsets away into the night, blue-blacks that bring out the best in stars and ochre-blacks that hide in stalks of hay bales in autumn. They are all beautiful in their own way because a bright value is only as brilliant as the dark ones allow them to be. Without darkness, lightness loses its vibrancy and poignancy. 

I kept the brushwork very loose, especially in the sky. Often clouds have a very expressive, brushy quality to them and so I tried to not get too fussy with the sky. The mountains and surrounding landscape too I tried to not get too lost in but concentrated the brushwork more around the pack. Even though much detail in the pack is absent because of its dark value I love its simple, heavy shape sitting there on the snow. I like that you can see a little bit of his fishing net and his camera case which is lying to the right of the pack. There are tracks in the snow that continue up ahead of where Chris was standing, but for all intents and purposes he was heading into a place where no one had traveled before him. This painting is one small moment in that journey. 

"If the day and the night are such that you greet them with joy and life emits a fragrance like flowers and sweet-scented herbs, is more elastic, more starry, more immortal, that is your success. All nature is your congratulation, and you have cause momentarily to bless yourself. The greatest gains and values are farthest from being appreciated. We easily come to doubt if they exist. We soon forget them. They are the highest reality." ~Henry David Thoreau

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In other art-related news I will be a guest lecturer at Georgian College in Barrie, Ontario in October. I will be speaking about my work, process and projects for students enrolled in the Art Fundamentals Program there. I look forward to this opportunity very much!

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Here is some information on my solo show, Portraits Of Newfoundland, that is coming ever closer! I hope to see you at the opening. Please see previous posts on this blog that describe some of the paintings that will be in the exhibition.

Portraits Of Newfoundland

November 5-22nd, 2009

Abbozzo Gallery, Oakville, Ontario

Opening Reception November 6th, 7-10pm

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

"The Green Couch"

"Throw your dreams into space like a kite, and you do not know what it will bring back

 -a new life, a new friend, a new love, a new country."- Anais Nin 

"The Green Couch", oil on canvas, 28"x44", was painted a few years ago yet has floated back to the surface lately. Perhaps it is because I have been concentrating on landscapes and different faces while working on the Portraits Of Newfoundland exhibition and commissions. Whatever the reason, here it is once again. 

Sometimes people ask artists why they paint themselves so frequently. I suppose the answer is as individual as the artist. Our bodies and minds are the filter that this world has to pass through into our consciousness. It stands to reason that we would want to depict ourselves living our lives, experiencing the emotions that make us so very fallible, so fragile yet resilient, so very human. I paint myself for many reasons. Yes, there is an autobiographical intention behind some of the paintings....rubicons that are passed that I am compelled to chronicle, a change of perspective, a joy shared, an emotion thus caught in perpetuity.

"The Green Couch"  is named for the couch that the duvet has been thrown over. You can see a little bit of the green visible on the right hand side. I knew that I wanted to paint folds and creases on a pale-coloured fabric so I removed the duvet cover (which was black) and voila, the elements were ready.  I wish I could say that there is a convoluted existential narrative behind this painting but no, it is simply what it is. I wanted to paint a figure resting...plain and simple. I was available (as I usually am). Thus I got to work organizing the composition. I forget exactly why I had such an oddly-sized canvas but this painting fit nicely onto it. 

I really tried hard to express "weight" in this painting..I wanted the viewer to really feel the figure on that couch, to sense the arms and torso really existing with their own energy and heaviness in that place and time. The folds were of course, sanity-testing at the best of times, yet there is also a joy at painting fabric so that when you step back a few feet, with fingers crossed, the values and shapes mesh together. Up close my paintings are quite planar, almost abstract. I do not blend on the canvas if I can help it. Any blending is usually incidental, a bi-product of a wet layer of oil underneath the pigment applied over top. In fact today I realized that there's a moment in the painting process when the paint underneath is at a perfect stage of pliability so that when you place another layer of paint across, there is a "pull" for lack of a better term, a harmony of texture that makes the two colours cohabitate and blend just so...not too much, not too little. 

There is a strange sensation that you have when you paint yourself. To render that which you have looked upon so often is paradoxically familiar and strange. In truth I enjoy the end product of the self-portrait but enjoy painting friends and those I am close to the most. I enjoy learning about them and their own uniqueness with the line of a nose or the curve of an ear (a favorite part to paint). Ears are fun because they are generally translucent and inclined towards more ruddy colours due to the light penetrating the skin. You can be sure that even when some tones on a face are not uncommon or vibrant, that the ear will have a lovely flash of red to add to the painting. At least, this is what I have found over time. 

This painting had a lot of direct light hitting me when I shot the reference. I find direct daylight really reduces saturation and tends to inhibit lovely, rich tones. I need to make an effort to start shooting reference with lights as I think you can achieve a beautiful quality of colour and value with artificial lights that can be lost with direct, natural light. I need to learn about these variables more to help me create the best paintings that I can. Fortunately the joy is in the learning, the doing, the work. In fact, Walt Whitman had a note on his desk that simply stated "make the work". Excellent maxim. 

Have a beautiful evening, day or afternoon, wherever you are.

Heather

"The only time I feel alive is when I'm painting." ~Van Gogh

Here is some information on my solo show, Portraits Of Newfoundland,  that is coming ever closer!!!! I hope to see you at the opening! Please see previous posts on this blog that describe some of the paintings that will be in the exhibition.

Portraits Of Newfoundland

November 5-22nd, 2009

Abbozzo Gallery, Oakville, Ontario

Opening Reception November 6th, 7-10pm

"Bonnie, Gros Morne"

“I know now that most people are so closely concerned with themselves that they are not aware of their own individuality. I can see myself, and it has helped me to say what I want to say 

... in paint.” ~Georgia O'Keefe

And what is there to say with the paint? Well, take "Bonnie, Gros Morne" for example. This painting, 24"x48", oil on canvas, is another one of the group I have completed for my upcoming show on portraits of Newfoundland in November here in Ontario. I will provide details at the bottom of this entry.  

I traveled to Newfoundland with the intent of opening myself up to the land and those that live there, in all of their facets and permutations, ready to store away whatever impressions it made. I did not want to limit myself to the figure. Conversely, I did not want to become myopic in looking at rugged coastline after rugged coastline. It is ironic that even panoramas can illicit tunnel vision sometimes. I sought to find a bridge between the people and the place, because, as I have mentioned before, the two are inextricably bound to one another. In fact, it stands to reason that there is no separation at all; that the inhabitants of any land are OF that land: spiritually, physically, emotionally. Why else do so many feel the tug of their homeland, despite being away from it for years, decades, a lifetime? It is because it is in our bones, whether we like it or not. It is a small voice that stays within us and nowhere that we travel can replace it.  

Newfoundlanders, and East Coasters in general,  are like the sea. They are faithful, open, generous, powerful, unforgettable. When I traveled across the top of the island to visit Gros Morne National Park, I opened my mind to all of the possibilities that might become paintings.  Gros Morne is sublime, truly. It is just as people describe it. Long stretches of winding road that bisect towering cliffs, gales to knock you off your feet, mountains, beaches, nature all around you, pure and unfiltered. I had my little map to explain where the various trails and areas of the park were located, and, after heading up the road in Rocky Harbour, I came to Lobster Cove Head Lighthouse, where a large lighthouse sits atop a rocky cliff. As I approached the lighthouse I was greeted by a lovely red-haired park employee named Bonnie. I asked a bit about the history, the topography and where there might be trails to hike along in the vicinity, and all the while I was thinking. In my my mind while I asked the questions I thought "she is a perfect representation of the park itself", I must paint her. Thus I summoned some courage and gave her my spiel: I was a painter, I would like to take some shots of her to make into a painting and would she mind posing for a few? I could tell she was rather shy but quite amenable to my suggestion and so she stood where she was, in the doorway, a wonderful thing to paint, with the flagpole and the sea out behind her. I asked her to be natural, to stand as she would normally stand. Artifice is quickly spotted in paintings I find. I like models to be themselves, and no one else. I don't fuss or primp and minimally rearrange (unless there is an odd shape created by clothing or whatnot).

I wanted this painting to be horizontal yet have many vertical lines that it would cut across. I saw this orientation in my mind as I shot the reference and saw the completed painting that very day. It was just a matter of completing it. The multi-coloured flags that you can see on the flagpole in the background are used to send messages to sailors out at sea, a visual morse code if you will. 

My objective with this piece was to show that people, no matter their job, are connected with where they live. Bonnie is just as much a part of Newfoundland as any fisherman out on the waves...she is not what you would probably first think of when you think of people in Newfoundland...but that is precisely why I wanted to capture her there. Every person's life is a story, and I was compelled to capture a piece of hers for a brief time. 

"I think having land and not ruining it is the most beautiful art

 that anybody could ever want to own."~Andy Warhol

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

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

"Towards Trinity Bay"

"As I gaze upon the sea! All my romantic legends, all my dreams, come back to me."

~Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

"Towards Trinity Bay"

2009

Oil On Panel

35"x50"

Last September I explored Newfoundland, Canada for 16 days over two weeks. This land really does take your breath away. Most of the population of the island is located near the water.  The sea is everywhere, around every turn in the road, in the air with the smell of brine and in your ears with its ceaseless, hypnotic waves crashing on the rocks. My intent was to gather reference for a show of paintings about this very special place. 1,300 pictures later, I had no shortage of ideas for paintings and some beautiful memories as well.

Gazing out on the water as the sun set, contemplating packing my suitcase and going through the rituals of closing up the pretty cabin on the Northeast shores where I had been staying, suddenly, silently, this boat floated into view. I will never forget how quietly it approached, and then it was there all of a sudden, like an alien spacecraft gliding through the sky, all aglow. I was transfixed by the confluence of colours that melded together all at once: the deep and light blues, the wet-grey slate of the rock, the weak honey hues of the setting sun, the far off lights of Badger's Quay or even Greenspond (I am not sure) twinkling across the bay. It was a visual symphony! I grabbed my camera and shot like a maniac, trying different compositions and capitalizing on every moment of daylight as I was holding the camera by hand which made for tricky shooting in such dim light. 

It was then that I recalled that the boat probably belonged to David's nephew, and their destination was somewhere south near Bonavista Bay to fish for mackerel. Apparently the mackerel are brought to the surface by the bright lights, hence fishing at night. I loved how the lights from their boat cut the water with its intensity, balanced the light of the sunset and how it simply floated quietly towards its destination. 

Despite its larger size, this painting came together pretty quickly. I used larger brushes and broad strokes, especially in the sky. It is difficult to make something appear diaphanous and airy, especially if you don't always paint in a very detailed manner. I had to find that line again between a more impressionistic application of paint while being able to render mood and emotion in the landscape. Hence the beauty of time and self-analysis to help you stand back and look at what works and what needs more work. I have a tendency towards becoming myopic while I work...so that the forest disappears and I see only one tree at a time. You need and must step back to take it all in periodically. 

The skies in Newfoundland are out of this world. The lack of air pollution and the freshness of the environment is conducive to some pretty spectacular openings and closings of days...and I have tried to capture this in the paintings that I have completed so far. The sky figures largely in the spell that the land casts upon people I think. It is our frame of reference for how we orient ourselves; it is a place where we toss our dreams and wishes, and a wise and optimistic counsellor in times of uncertainty. It is like an upside-down well, a rumpled blanket, the forecaster of weather conditions and a constant companion against the gravity that keeps us on terra firma as we explore and discover. 

"That pleasure which is at once the most pure, the most elevating and the most intense, is derived, I maintain, from the contemplation of the beautiful."

 ~Edgar Allan Poe

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