With a lot to do and feeling like I was way behind, a cabin trip seemed like a low priority. But it’s an inexpensive getaway, a relatively short drive, and I needed a break.
Though we don’t live that far away from each other, and we text or email most days, Darrel and I only see each other a few times a year, usually at the cabin we rent. But it’s one of those rare lifelong friendships where we just pick up where we left off. The only person who knows me better than Darrel is Shonna.
When I’ve mentioned this regular guys weekend escape in passing, people often say, “What do you do there?”
It’s pretty boring, really. That’s the point.
We talk and catch up. Darrel’s one of the smartest people I know, so we have interesting conversations. We play guitar, some trips more than others. We go for long walks through the woods and pastures, hoping to see wildlife. We walked a little slower this trip, as Darrel is still recovering from knee surgery. The wildlife was limited to squirrels, whiskey jacks, woodpeckers, and skittish deer way off in the distance.
Not the most exciting critter encounters, but I got some good squirrel pics. This amusing little chatterbox might very well inspire a painting.
I took photos of wind-broken tree stumps where I might place an owl or eagle. A natural doorway created by curved and fallen branches has potential. You never know what might spark a new piece.Though we had visited with them earlier, the owners texted us Sunday evening that the Atlas comet was barely visible over the pasture. It had been brighter and more evident days earlier, but this was the last chance to see it. We walked out in the dark, not wanting to use flashlights that might ruin our night vision and found the faint anomaly among the sea of stars. Darrel took this shot on his newer phone. I couldn’t get a good capture with mine. You can just see the comet tail on the left.
We had nice fall weather for most of our time there, but it got cold and windy Sunday night and Monday. A snowstorm hit Calgary and Canmore, and given the road reports and Shonna’s texts, I was thrilled I didn’t have to drive back until Tuesday.
We spent most evenings sitting in the kitchen or by the wood stove, chatting or playing Scrabble or card games. I even brought a chess board, the first time I’d played in years. I lost but held my own and look forward to playing again.
I could have easily stayed another week, hiding from work. But it was a nice break before everything kicks into holiday season high gear, so I certainly won’t complain.
My order from Pacific Music & Art was waiting for me when I got home, and it contained calendars, ceramic coasters, and magnets for the Banff Christmas Market. Added to the large order of prints that arrived a couple of weeks ago, I’ve never had this much product at one time. It’s both exciting and frightening.
On the one hand, it shows that this side of my business continues to grow. As it’s the work I enjoy most and has the best chance of ensuring my financial future, I’m grateful. But it’s a significant investment of time and money that comes with no small amount of anxiety.
So, I keep reminding myself of all those sayings and platitudes. No reward without risk. Change never happens when you’re comfortable. Fortune favours the bold.
After many inquiries over the past few months, I’m pleased to announce that the coming year’s Wild Animals calendar is now available in the store!
While the calendar is a Pacific Music & Art licensed product, I always have a hand in choosing which animals make the cut. In the 2025 calendar, you’ll find a gallery of popular paintings and images appearing for the first time.I love the cover this year. Big Bear on Blue is the latest print I issued earlier this summer and it’s already looking like it will be a bestseller.
My (sea) Otter is a perennial favourite, but my River Otter painting is also included this year. New pieces like Spa Day, Highland Cow, and Meerkat also made the final selection. I’m pleased to see a couple of my personal favourites, too. One in Every Family is a painting close to my heart. Not only did I paint the great horned owls in that image from reference I took up at Grassi Lakes here in Canmore, but the piece won the Best In Show award at Photoshop World Las Vegas in 2014. Has it been that long?
The prize that came with that award was the Canon 5D Mark III camera I still use today to take many of my reference images, and it’s now an old friend. Professional photographers might consider it to be a little long in the tooth, but for me, it’s a workhorse that gets the job done. Who knew it would become such a big part of my process? Each calendar purchased in the store will be hand-signed by me on the back. Whether you get 1 or 2 calendars, shipping is a flat rate of $6.50 in Canada or $9.50 for the US, all in Canadian funds. But as always, anything over $48 in the store qualifies for FREE SHIPPING. So, if you’re looking for prints, postcard sets, or stickers to go with your calendar purchase, feel free to mix and match. Get yours early to beat the holiday rush.
I will also have calendars available at the Banff Christmas Market every weekend from November 14th to December 8th. Hope to see you there.
With a website and email list, keeping up with regular posts is important, especially when there’s an implied promise to anyone who subscribes.
But what if it’s been weeks, and I haven’t got any new work to share? Or what if I’ve got nothing upbeat and positive to write about? Everybody talks about the value of authenticity, but when you’re struggling with unrealized expectations and unmet goals, is it better to go a month without posting, or do you bare it all and risk the unsubscribes from people who just want to see another funny-looking animal painting?
It’s amazing how often people think art-for-a-living is drawing and colouring all day. I spend more time on business activities surrounding the art than I ever do creating it, as do most creatives I know. Knowing that reality ahead of time is essential if you’re ever considering this profession.
It has become clear that I’ve bitten off more than I can chew this year. I began 2024 with big plans and projects and feel I’ve mostly failed. I work long hours almost every day, but I’m not getting enough done.
The editorial cartoon work can be incredibly frustrating as those deadlines always take priority over the painted work, even though it’s the side of my business with no chance of increasing revenue. Newspapers aren’t about to bounce back.
So the first weekly task, beginning Sunday morning, is to get five syndicated cartoons done before Wednesday for my daily and weekly newspaper clients and one local exclusive cartoon done for Tuesday evening for the Rocky Mountain Outlook. Then, if breaking news doesn’t disrupt the schedule, I can work on administrative work like invoicing, print packaging and shipping, promotional material, writing, and hopefully painting.
I wanted at least two new puzzles for the Banff Christmas Market this year. But because I needed to finish two very involved paintings that still aren’t done, that won’t happen. There’s a long lead time to have them printed and packaged, and I missed that deadline.
Puzzles come with a significant initial expense, and I had to ask myself if I needed to spend more when I already have plenty invested in other stock.
I drove into the city on Sunday morning to drop off a large print and sticker order to the Calgary Zoo. Usually, that’s an opportunity to take reference photos, but with no extra time, I didn’t go beyond the gift shop. After a quick detour to Costco, I was back at my desk drawing cartoons by early afternoon.
Because of the work that goes into selling and marketing my art, with the runup to the Banff Christmas Market, I’m not getting enough painting done, and I don’t know how to solve this problem.
From early November until mid-December, there won’t be any time off. I’ll be at my booth at the Christmas Market from Friday to Sunday every weekend. From Monday to Thursday, I’ll be drawing editorial cartoons, packaging and shipping orders, and the usual admin work, plus the extra with a gift show. That doesn’t leave time for painting.
I’m trying to keep the proper perspective on this. I still have 50 animal paintings available in prints. That’s more than enough for the upcoming market. Though I wanted some paintings in progress finished for this event, I don’t need them. Those I added earlier this year for the Calgary Expo will still be new to people at this venue.
I did two weekends for the first time at the Banff Christmas Market last year. This year, I’m doing four. Unlike at the Calgary Expo, I don’t yet have a following at this event. That means my classic and bestselling paintings are still new to this audience. I will meet plenty of people who have never seen my Smiling Tiger, Otter, Winter Wolf or the grinning gallery of grizzly bears.
I need to retire some paintings in my current catalogue. When you put too many choices in front of people, it gets overwhelming. My printer in Victoria has minimum order requirements, so if I only sell two of an average selling image at Christmas, that costs me more than I made because of how many I had to order.
Art-for-a-living is a business and requires difficult choices. When a painting is no longer popular, it’s time to let it go in favour of testing the waters with new work.
In the past, I’ve put prints in the store as soon as I painted them. In 2025, I will only do print releases twice a year. This will hopefully allow me to get several paintings done, build anticipation, and have a bunch of new releases to promote before the Calgary Expo in the spring and the holiday season in the fall.
It also means I can build new art collections for potential licensing rather than offer new paintings individually. Licensing revenue hasn’t been as reliable as I’d like this year, and it is even down for some clients.
Even with non-exclusive licenses, many companies don’t want to offer the same paintings on the same type of products. So, when images are already spoken for, they’re less likely to attract new clients.
To solicit new contracts, I need to offer them new paintings.
En route to Thanksgiving dinner with family this coming weekend, we’ll detour to Discovery Wildlife Park to drop off a print order, but there won’t be time for a visit there, either. Thankfully, I do have a cabin trip coming up for a weekend break before the holiday frenzy begins.
Then, I’ll get my flu and COVID shots to do my best to stay healthy for the rest of the year. I have a recurring worry that I’ll get sick for one of the market weekends, and my booth will sit empty.
In silver lining news, because of the large print orders I just filled for the Calgary Zoo and Discovery Wildlife Park, and not wanting to leave anything until the last minute, all my prints have arrived for the rest of the year. The online store is fully stocked with prints, stickers and postcard sets. I am still waiting on calendars.
If you haven’t checked out the store for a while, please do, as I’ll retire many of these after they sell at the Banff Christmas Market. Don’t miss out on what might be your favourite. My prints are 11×14, an easy-to-find frame size wherever you buy yours. It’s never too early to start thinking about office gift exchanges or spreading happy animal art around to your friends and family.
As for sharing new work, I won’t promise anything right now for fear I won’t be able to deliver. All I can do is ask for your patience. There’s nobody who wants to see more finished work than me.
As the colder weather approaches, animal photo opportunities become less plentiful, and that scarcity, real or imagined, makes me want to take more pictures.
Considering I have thousands of neatly organized reference photos I have never used, for well over a hundred animals, running out has never been a problem. But it’s hard to ignore the impulse to stock up, just in case.
Hey, squirrels store way more than they need for the winter, too.
Time ticking was the prime motivation for my trip to the Alberta Birds of Prey Sanctuary in Coaldale last month. Releasing two hawks into the wild was worth the trip alone, but after editing and sorting my pictures, I’ve also got dozens of new photos I can paint from.
Still open until September 30th, Discovery Wildlife Park usually closes from October to the end of April. But during the pandemic, they created a holiday lights drive-through feature. With the worst of the health crisis thankfully over, their impressive Light The Night experience has continued to grow, open this year from November 15th to January 5th.
With winter gift shop stock in mind, they placed a surprising end-of-season order for prints and stickers. I always like to deliver those in person so I have an excuse to take photos.
I had driven to Coaldale in a torrential rainstorm, but that meant great light for pictures when I arrived. In an unwelcome repeat, but with the same result, I drove to Innisfail last week in another storm. When I got there, the weather was so foul I was the only person in the park.
While I had lunch with my zookeeper friend, Serena, a couple of other people arrived. Coincidentally, they were also longtime friends of the park. Rather than the usual bear education presentation we’d seen several times, Serena gave the three of us a behind-the-scenes personal tour and visit with the bears.
Cold, dark, and windy, the rain at least let up for a few hours. While the pictures I got weren’t impressive photographs on their own, some of these shots will be amazing for reference. I’ve written before about how sunny days aren’t great because they can wash out detail in the highlights and shadows, but an overcast day provided some very exciting photos of bear fur and features.
If that weren’t enough, Serena has been hand-raising an orphaned raccoon since he was tiny. Shonna I got to see him earlier this summer, but on this day, he was getting his first look at a much bigger world, as he was let loose for a bit to run and play in a large enclosure. If you’ve ever seen a cat or dog with the zoomies, imagine that with a raccoon. He was having a very good time.
After the park, I took my parents out to dinner in Red Deer and spent the night at their place for a nice, albeit short, visit.
This past week, the cool fall weather has shown up. Though I’m not a fan of the winter that follows, fall is my favourite time of year. The light on the mountains around here is softer and ever-changing, and we get some beautiful sunrises, which I can see from my office window. And when the larches change colour, it’s like somebody spilled brilliant yellow and orange paint all over the place.
Though I generally dislike driving, the route south on Highway 40 through Kananaskis, up to the Highwood Pass is an exception. It’s the highest paved road in Canada and the spectacular scenery is some of the most beautiful in the world. While busy on weekends, self-employment affords me the luxury of going during the week. Thursday was a pretty day for a drive, and even though the larches haven’t changed yet, they’re beginning to. Traffic was light, the weather was great, and I enjoyed the 40-minute climb from Highway 1.
Several years ago, a local photographer told me about Rock Glacier, just off the highway below the Highwood Pass. He had said that if I wanted to see pikas, that was the place. It’s a massive scree slope of rocks, and I can’t even guess how many of the little ‘rock rabbits’ call it home.
It’s hardly a secret, as the site has two extra parking lanes and several Alberta Parks educational signs about the critters.
Their peeping is unmistakable, but it can be hard to see them as they’re very small and perfectly camouflaged among the rocks. It’s only their darting movements that give them away. I’ll admit that chasing them around the rocks is part of the fun. They’ll scurry along routes only they can see, pausing on rocks along their path, perfect for photo ops.
Their primary motivation is food, so they’re usually en route to one of the small patches of grass and vegetation among the rocks, where they’ll stuff their faces before running back to their stash. It’s fun to watch.
The challenge is usually to get a few pictures before they run out of range, but twice on this visit, I was delighted to see one running toward me. With each pause, I’d get a better shot until one eventually ran right by my foot, intent on a patch of green behind me. All I had to do was circle it and take more photos. They didn’t seem to mind my presence as long as I avoided quick movements.
It can get cold up there at 2200m (7200 ft), and I always pack extra layers, but it was a pleasant fall morning, and I only needed a light jacket. On a few visits, there’ve been ten or 12 other people, often photographers with much bigger lenses than my 70-300mm, doing the same thing. But on this visit, I spent an hour and a half crawling over the rocks and snapping pics with the whole place to myself. Nobody else stopped.
On each drive up to Rock Glacier, I usually see black bears or grizzlies, but none this time. They’re likely still low in the valleys, eating as much as possible before winter. But they can show up anywhere around here, and on these excursions, I’ve always got bear spray on my hip. Aside from the above pic of a line of bighorn sheep walking the top of the ridge, I only saw the wildlife I came for.
Though I have kept dozens of pika photos over the years, I’ve always felt I hadn’t quite got the one I wanted, that perfect photo to paint from. I finally got one on this trip, but I haven’t shared it in this post. It’ll just have to be a surprise.
Now, you might be thinking, “I’m seeing plenty of photos lately, but where’s some new artwork on this artist’s website?”
I am working on several pieces and a commission right now. However, taking photos for future paintings is also a big part of my work. I can’t paint ‘cartoony, but real,’ if I don’t know what real looks like, and taking photos always inspires new paintings. Though I often plan to paint a critter and then go looking for reference, it’s frequently the photos that come first, inspiring the paintings that follow.
I’m happy to share my latest custom painting of a cute little fellow named Lucas.
This was a memorial piece. That anyone commissions me to paint their furry-faced loved one to help them with their grief, and eventually turn sadness into happy memories, isn’t something I take lightly.
Sarah has been following my work for some time. In a recent issue of A Wilder View, I mentioned and shared my commission of Santé from a couple of years ago, prompting Sarah to ask about a painting of her little guy in my style.
She sent one photo with her inquiry, and I was instantly smitten with his little face. Lucas was a tiny little Yorkie who looked like a real-life cartoon character. I tempered my enthusiasm, wanting to see more photos and discuss Sarah’s expectations.
People often think that commissions are cut and dry. Here’s a photo, paint my dog. Several times in my career, I’ve had people ask for a very short deadline and balk that a custom painting costs more than $50. It’s one of the main reasons I turn down more commissions than I accept.
But when I’m working with a client who not only knows my art style and realizes the amount of time and effort a custom painting takes, it’s a thoroughly enjoyable experience. Sarah was a pleasure to work with.
For the first month, before I even began sketching, she sent me several photos in different poses. Lucas often looked different from one photo to the next because of the length of his hair, age, and the colouring that had changed throughout his life. With these variables, I needed to narrow down how Sarah wanted him to look. Short or long hair? More grey hair than tan? Puppy, senior, or somewhere in between?
Communication is key with every commission. I can’t do my best work if I don’t know which details are essential to the client.
Finally, Sarah suggested an outdoor setting and mentioned that she had wanted to take him for a photo shoot with dandelions but never got to do that. I thought posing him in that environment sounded like a wonderful idea.
When I sent the final image at the beginning of August, Sarah responded, “I’m overwhelmed with your portrait of my little man, his eyes and all that hair! His cute little head tilt and the hint of a smile as he sits in the flowers is just perfect. I showed my Mom and she said she had a smile through tears and that was me too. What an incredible amount of work, I probably can’t really imagine but it is very obvious in the finished image!”
However…
“There isn’t anything wrong, but I am wondering how difficult it might be to make a small change to Lucas’ nose? He had a wee dimple at the top centre that gave it even more of a “heart” shaped appearance.”
I had painted Lucas with more of a rounded nose at the top like I do with some of my whimsical wildlife images. It’s often a feature of my cartoony style. But going back through the reference images, I saw that dimple detail in all the photos. I just didn’t put the weight into it that someone who knew Lucas would. In my opinion, that means I got it wrong.
Back to the drawing board, I corrected my mistake, and Sarah was pleased when I sent the revision. I’m genuinely relieved she mentioned it. Had she not, I expect it would be a distraction each time she looked at the painting, thinking, ‘Too bad he got the nose wrong.’Though Sarah and her spouse live near Edmonton, and I could ship the painting, she and her Mom had planned for a couple of nights in Canmore this past weekend, and I delivered the 18”X24” stretched canvas to their hotel. I took them outside into the sunlight for the reveal so they could see the bright colours and the details. Whether on paper, metal or canvas, my work always looks better in print than on a screen. People have been saying that to me for years. Sarah said it, too.
She started to cry and finally managed, “It’s him.”
I don’t get better compliments than happy tears.
Thanks again for trusting me with this most personal of paintings, Sarah. I’m so pleased you’re happy with it.
I’m working on another commission that I hope to finish soon. With my current workload, they’re taking a little longer than usual, but thankfully, Sarah and my other client didn’t have deadlines. That’s an important factor when I consider taking on a custom piece, whether I can deliver what I promise.
If you’d like to learn more about what’s involved with hiring me for a custom pet portrait in my whimsical style, please visit my Commissions page.
This weekend marks the end of the visitor season for the Alberta Birds of Prey Centre in Coaldale, Alberta. It’s a welcoming and beautiful facility home to many species of owls, hawks, eagles, and more.
Cofounded, owned and operated by Colin Weir since the early 1980s, the dedication it takes to keep this place going is remarkable and impressive. On days I feel sorry for myself for not having had a day off in weeks, I remind myself that people like Colin (and my friend Serena at Discovery Wildlife Park) go many months without a day off, and sometimes that’s only a sick day when they’re really ill.
Caring for animals is a calling, and these critters require constant care. When I expressed my admiration for his commitment, Colin humbly dismissed his efforts and likened it to farming, saying it’s a lifestyle more than a job.
Colin is on call 24/7 year-round to rescue birds from all over Alberta. Though he can’t always be there in person, he’s told me that sometimes people just need encouragement and advice, a supportive voice on the phone to help them do what they can for a bird in need.
While many adult birds they rescue are nursed back to health and released, it’s not so cut and dry for birds missing a wing or for the little ones. Some will never develop the skills to survive on their own, but they find a home at the centre.
Years ago, I painted a Golden Eagle named Sarah. I had taken the reference for the painting when I first met Colin and his daughter, Aimee, on their visit to Canmore with some of their birds for a wildlife event. Sarah has been with Colin since she was a year old, and I was delighted to see her again. She is still healthy and doing well at 42 years old.
From their website, “We do not receive any government operating subsidies, which means we rely solely on donations and volunteers to keep the birds fed and cared for year-round. One hundred percent of all donations we receive is spent on programs and projects that directly benefit the wildlife and wetland habitat we strive to conserve.”
I could go on at great length about their incredible work for wildlife conservation and rehabilitation, but I’d rather you visit their website as it does a much better job than I would.
The Alberta Birds of Prey Foundation is an official charity, and I’ve been supporting them with a monthly donation for several years, but I’ve only been to the centre three times. It’s a 4-hour drive, which usually means an overnight stay.
From deadlines and workload to weather and wildfire smoke, something came up every time I planned to get down there this year. But with the season ending, I had to make it a priority this past week or wait until next year.
As luck would have it, Wednesday was one of the worst rainstorms I’ve seen in years. There was a heavy downpour for most of the drive, with a strong crosswind from Calgary to Lethbridge. With poor visibility, water-filled ruts grabbing at the tires, and fun with hydroplaning, I was relieved to arrive in Coaldale at about 1 PM.
Finally, inside the centre’s entrance, I was met by adorable juvenile Burrowing Owls, a young Saw-whet Owl, and a Kestrel, all on perches, chortling and squawking away.
I immediately started snapping pics with my phone, thinking, “I want to paint you, and you, and you, and all of your friends and family.”
Colin had told me he was hosting a large group that day, but one of the staff said they had to cancel because of the weather. At that moment, I was the only guest in the whole place. I spent the next few hours taking photos on what felt like my own private tour.
On the weather app radar, the vast rain system occupied much of southern and central Alberta, rotating like a tropical storm. However, the eye settled and turned over Lethbridge and Coaldale for most of the afternoon. Cool and blustery, but no rain for a while, and fantastic light. A few other guests showed up, but the afternoon was quiet.
Just before 4, the rain began again, and I retreated to my hotel for the evening. It poured all night, but I woke to a clear morning and a light wind, perfect for another visit with the birds.
One of the reasons I wanted to get there before they closed for the season was to try and capture some shots of the flight training. For birds that can’t be released, they get regular exercise on two long runways where they fly back and forth for food.
Our romantic notion of eagles flying for the sheer joy of it, simply because they can, isn’t supported by reality. Birds of prey are pretty lazy, and if they don’t have to hunt, they’ll sit in a tree all day. The caregivers at the centre need to be careful not to feed them before flight training because if they aren’t hungry, they won’t fly.
They also tend to overheat, and it only takes two or three flights down the runway before an eagle will pant like a dog to cool off. After the training, they’re taken back to the aviary when handlers allow younger guests to give the birds a rain shower with the hose to help them cool down, something the birds clearly enjoy.
While the storm conditions made the light great on my first day, the wind cancelled the flight training. Clear skies and sunshine on Thursday made for good flying conditions, but the light was too bright, so while I enjoyed watching them fly, I didn’t get any good action shots for painting reference.
Wildlife and weather, you can’t count on either.
I still took plenty of reference photos for future paintings, especially for one bird I’ve wanted to paint for years. And had I returned home with only the shots I’d taken thus far, I would have been pleased with the visit.
But after the first flight training, Colin texted me to meet him at the gift shop. He’d been off the property on Wednesday and responding to a rescue call that morning, so I hadn’t seen him yet.
I was pleased to see him again, as I hadn’t since my last visit in 2021. Colin told me he had a surprise for me outside. We walked out to his truck with Miyah, one of the senior staff, and he said he was going to let me release two Swainson’s Hawks back into the wild.
I would have been content just to see a release, but to let one go myself (let alone two) was an unexpected thrill. I thought perhaps I’d just be opening the door on a box, but I soon realized Colin was about to hand me an adult hawk…twice!
Obviously well practiced in making this experience memorable for anyone granted this honour, Colin’s instructions were clear and specific to ensure the birds’ safety and be in the correct position for the best possible photos. He and Miyah had cameras ready to capture the releases and took plenty of pictures for me.
While I wasn’t as graceful as an experienced hawk-thrower, I thrust each bird forward and upward as instructed and let go, a great feeling to see recovered birds once again flying free. Hopefully, mine are the last hands those birds ever feel, and they live a long and healthy life in the wild, thanks to the tireless efforts of Colin and his team.
On the sunny, pleasant return drive home, I had time to reflect on the incredible privilege of having had that experience. I didn’t do any work to save those birds, but I got the reward. What a gift.
Their last day of the season for visitor access is Monday September 2nd. If a last minute trip isn’t in the cards for you or your family this weekend, the Alberta Birds of Prey Centre will open again in May. If you plan to be near the Lethbridge area next spring or summer, make a side trip to Coaldale and see these birds for yourself. In the meantime, visit their website or follow their efforts on Facebook and Instagram. Support them if you can.
Many facilities like this exist in communities worldwide, run by dedicated animal lovers trying to help nature keep up with our impact on the planet. Please consider donating to one of them to help these folks continue to do their incredible work for wildlife conservation.
With two commissions and several other projects on the go, it was tough to get traction this summer. I’m also spending a lot of time planning for the Banff Christmas markets that begin in November. As it spans four long weekends, I’ll soon need to figure out how much stock to order.
But first, there are two paintings I want to finish, so I’ll have them available for print and puzzles.
This week, the printed 18″ X24″ stretched canvas of a recently completed commission arrived. I’m delighted with how this painting turned out, and most importantly, so is the client. I’ll deliver it the first week of September when the client visits Canmore. After that, I look forward to sharing it with all of you.
The second commission is coming along nicely. But I’ve also been working on the group of bears I’ve been chipping away at for some time now. The original plan for this piece was five adult bears sitting at a log in the woods, like a group of friends hanging out and chatting. I drew six of them separately to give myself options.
However, when I dropped and dragged them together into one image, the digital canvas was very long. A long horizontal canvas has appeal for a canvas or metal print. However, from a commercial perspective, it would limit what I could offer for licensing and paper prints.
To make all five bears fit, with a bit of personal space between each, I’d need to compose them in a way that would leave a lot of space above and below. But that would make their faces much smaller, and I’d have to paint more foliage and background. Or I could stretch them vertically, but then they’d look far too distorted.
This is where working digitally is a blessing. While experimenting with each bear sketch, pushing and warping features, I soon realized another option for this painting. What if I made it a family of bears with older cubs, looking almost like teenagers?
Now, I know nature doesn’t work like this. The father is long gone by the time the cubs are born, which is good because he’d be a significant threat. As for Mom, she chases the cubs away at two or three years old.
I don’t paint reality.
It didn’t take long to fall for this new composition and abandon the old one. A family meant I could group them closer and have more fun with their expressions. Pushing, pulling and warping each of the sketched bears destroyed the initial sketched detail, but I probably would have had to do that for my original vision as well.
The sketches were just templates, and each contributed to this discovery.
Once I was pleased with the group layout, I dropped the layer’s opacity and traced over the shapes and basic features. I did this several times, refining with each pass.
Then, I got to work on the shading, detail, expressions, and character. I do that right up until the end of every painting, as personality is the most essential part and is where I have the most fun. And with this painting, I’ve got five faces to discover instead of one.
This piece seems like a family posing for a Sears portrait or the opening of a sitcom like Family Ties or Growing Pains. I’m going to call it ‘The Grizzlies.’
It reminds me of my great horned owls painting, One in Every Family, which is still a bestseller ten years after I painted it. I had a lot of fun with that painting, and that finished piece didn’t match my initial intent, either. My owls painting won Best in Show at Photoshop World 2014 in Las Vegas, awarding me the camera I still use today to take much of my reference. It’s now a trusted old friend.
There’s still a lot of work to do on this piece. Refining the light and contrast, adding colour to the bears and a lot more detail, but I’ve finally found the spark in this piece. This painting felt like one more thing on the to-do list a couple of weeks ago, but I’m now into it and enjoying the work.
About a month ago, Shonna was able to take a couple of days off, and we drove to Red Deer to see our parents and spend a little time at Discovery Wildlife Park. A scorching and bright sunny day, less than ideal for photos; we only spent a couple of hours at the park. But we got to visit with our friend, Serena, and meet the baby orphaned raccoon she was looking after.
Despite the bright sun, I got some shots of the two black bear cubs. There might be inspiration for a painting or two in the few photos I kept, but I will let them simmer and review them in a few months. My mood and circumstances can colour my perception, so shots that don’t inspire me in August might push the right buttons in January.
Although I prefer to take my own reference photos whenever possible, I am not interested in becoming a professional photographer. Connecting the dots between aperture, shutter speed and ISO and understanding how they work together, it just seems like math and bores the hell out of me.
I’ve read plenty of books, watched videos and taken classes, but I’ve never got ‘the hook,’ that thing where you connect to something on a level that makes you want to pour all your energy into becoming better at it.
I know that hook because I have it for drawing and painting. I can spend hours detailing little hairs or working to get the texture of a bear’s nose just right. I am confident that would be incredibly dull for most people.
I admire plenty of photographers whose artistic skills inspire and baffle me. The art they create and capture is impressive. But when I see their work, I don’t think, “I want to do that!”
What I do think is, “I want to see a coastal grizzly walking out of a Vancouver Island rainforest!” or “Yeah, that’s a beautiful shot of a bald eagle grabbing a salmon, but I’m gonna need a closer zoom of that face to see her expression.”
I love the experience of taking photos, especially when it involves critter faces. I paint personality in my images because that’s what I see. I instinctually imagine animals as characters, and the twitch of a lip or crease in an eye ridge suddenly becomes an anthropomorphized expression I can exaggerate.
So, while I revel in learning a photography trick or technique that helps me take better reference, like David DuChemin’s tip this winter that allowed me to capture much better detail shooting ravens in the snow, I’m always thinking about the painting.
If I take a photo where the light isn’t great, and I can’t fix it well enough in Photoshop, a picture that would easily be in the discard pile for a professional photographer might still inspire a painting. My Smiling Tiger is a bestselling image, and I based it on a blurry, grainy reference photo I captured at The Calgary Zoo. Any self-respecting photographer would have deleted it on the first pass.
While I consider taking photos an integral part of my creative pipeline, that’s only the beginning.
At the end of July, on the day I sent my last post, I headed to the cabin north of here with my friend, Darrel. With my current workload, time off hasn’t been a priority, so leaving for a few days felt irresponsible, but we had booked it months ago and paid our deposit.
Though most of Alberta had been dealing with heavy wildfire smoke that week, it completely cleared up by the time I got to the cabin and stayed that way the whole four days we were there. The temperature even dropped to a comfortable level and we got some welcome rain. In fact, on the first night, it cooled off so much that we wondered if we might need a fire in the wood stove. Given the oppressive heat we’d just escaped, we had no appetite for that. But wearing long pants and a hoodie seemed strange that evening, given how uncomfortable the past month had been.
With the developing situation in Jasper, evacuees finding out that 30% of their town had burned down, it was impossible to completely relax or shut off the news. The weather reports warned of the potential for tornadoes and violent storms in our area due to the rapidly changing temperatures. Thankfully, those never materialized, but it still meant keeping one eye on the phone.
Even though I couldn’t turn off my busy brain, it was good to get away. We did what we always do: sat around talking, napped on the decks in the afternoon, walked around the large property, and played guitar, cards and Scrabble. Yes, we’re boring old men.
While I slept well the first couple of nights, I had bad dreams the last two. On the third morning, I woke up from one about 5:30 and tried and failed to go back to sleep. Darrel and I are both early risers, and while I’m up before then most days at home, I like to sleep a couple of hours longer at the cabin. So, I wasn’t impressed.
Though we have separate bedrooms, it’s a small cabin, and I didn’t want to risk ruining Darrel’s sleep by moving about that early. I quietly dressed, grabbed my camera and crept out the back door for a walk.
It was a very pretty and delightfully cool morning, and I knew there would be plenty of time to nap on the deck later in the day, so my mood improved. I wandered up the road, spooked a few deer and watched them take off across the neighbour’s newly cut and bailed hayfield. I kept my eyes peeled for other wildlife, hoping for an owl or coyote.
At the top of the long dirt road is a treed area that falls away to forest on both sides. That time of morning, that section of road was dark and shaded. I briefly saw a long, little critter standing tall on its hind legs on the side of the road before it squealed and ran down the steep bank to the forest floor below. I don’t know the critter’s gender, but with a 50/50 shot, I’m going with she instead of it.
The base of the tree she ran up to escape was twenty feet below me down the steep bank, so her ‘safe height’ now put her at eye level with me as I stood on the road. And she was NOT happy about it.
But I was thrilled, shooting pics of this sassy little pine marten as she grunted and squealed at me. She didn’t seem to know if she should climb higher or go back down. After a few back-and-forth scurries, with pauses to glare at me and curse my existence, she opted for down and made her escape.
Though I had done what I could to boost my exposure compensation to account for the dark area in which I was shooting, I needed to keep the shutter speed high to try to capture this quick little marten. In the end, none of the pictures I got were very good, but I enjoyed the moment. I don’t know if I have ever seen a pine marten in the wild, but I was pleased with the early morning treat.
While the pics I got aren’t good enough for reference, I’ve added a pine marten to the list of animals I hope to encounter on future cabin visits.
Over the past few years, you may have noticed more individuals and businesses abandoning social media promotion.
Buzzwords and terminology aside, social media got everybody hooked on free marketing. Then they changed their coding (aren’t we all tired of the word algorithm?), so customers only see your posts when you cough up the cash. And good luck even then. It’s the drug dealer business model: give ‘em a taste, get ‘em hooked, make ‘em pay.
I was happy to switch to email marketing because social media has become a toxic mess of nastiness and polarization. More importantly, it got to a point where the work to reach followers — and make no mistake, promotion IS work — wasn’t paying off.
As I’ve kept a blog on my website for over 20 years and enjoy writing long-form posts, I prefer to connect with my collectors and followers via email. I get much better feedback, and with no need to focus on useless likes and shares, it feels less frantic. It’s more like driving toward a destination at a reasonable rate of speed instead of weaving back and forth like an angry drunk, looking for the fastest of ten crowded lanes.
When it’s your primary means of interaction, it’s essential to be consistent and send regular emails. Whether sharing new paintings, works-in-progress, reference photos I’ve taken, or writing about inspiring excursions, I need to keep an open window into the work and a view behind the scenes.
Over the past week, I’ve received a few subscriber emails asking if they’ve missed an issue of A Wilder View, because they haven’t received anything from me in a while. I usually try to send an email every week or two. As I write this, it’s been about a month. So, what gives?
Frankly, I’m burnt out. I’ve got the pedal pressed to the floor, the wheels are spinning, and the engine is roaring, but it feels like I’m not going anywhere.
I’m working on two commissions, and they’re both going well. I’m genuinely enjoying these pieces, but I don’t share commissions in progress, as my clients deserve to see the finished paintings first.
This is one of the reasons commissions are a financial investment (i.e. not cheap). When I’m working on a custom painting, it means I can’t work on other art that contributes to my income from licensing, products and prints. Commission clients pay for the painting but also for my limited time.
To be fair to both of my current clients, they’ve each said, “No rush.” While I appreciate that freedom, it takes no time for leeway like that to stretch into several months, which would be an abuse of their generosity. They’ve paid substantial installments, so it’s only fair I make their work my priority.
I have a good friend in BC who ordered a custom canoe from a craftsman here in Alberta. He paid his deposit and was assured it would be ready within a reasonable time frame. It has now been several years, and every frustrated call or email results in a fresh excuse. What was supposed to be a commission that would bring him joy is now a subject he avoids because he’s so angry about the whole thing. He feels like he’s been taken for a ride and ripped off.
I refuse to be that artist. When I pay for something, I want results. My clients should expect no less.
It’s also why I pay my bills as quickly as possible, especially to other small businesses. I know what it’s like to chase unpaid invoices and royalty payments. It makes me feel like a schmuck asking for money I’m owed, sometimes more than once, and it builds resentment. I don’t want my suppliers and customers to share that experience.
The other work occupying my limited time is my daily editorial cartoons. I draw 6-8 every week for newspaper clients across Canada. Lately, the news has been fast and furious with significant events, so planning cartoons can be challenging when it’s been one late-breaking story after another. It cuts into the time I’ve budgeted for the painted work. That’s tough sometimes as there is no growth potential in that part of my work, and it will eventually vanish completely. But it’s a deadline every day and still a necessary part of my income.
This past Sunday, I had drawn two cartoons in the morning and was going to paint all afternoon. Then President Biden announced he was no longer running for re-election, and suddenly, I had to draw a new cartoon for Monday morning. While drawing each cartoon takes a few hours or more, I first have to come up with the idea, which also takes time.
Adjusting course, I planned to paint all day Tuesday but woke to find out that the town of Jasper had evacuated for a wildfire. Suddenly, I had to scrap the cartoon I’d already drawn and sent Monday afternoon for the Rocky Mountain Outlook. Given how our communities are so alike, I had to produce two new cartoons (one local, one syndicated) on the situation and get them out quickly.
Having been through an evacuation in 2013 (water, not fire), and the odds are a little too good we may one day go through that again; I feel for those people. It’s a frightening thing to leave your home and not know if will be there when you get back. As the fire has breached the town of Jasper, and structures are burning, some people will lose everything. What makes it worse is when insensitive, small-minded keyboard warriors post stupid things like, “It’s only stuff.”
That sort of glib comment is neither helpful nor kind.
I have several paintings in progress, a few I expected to be done by now, which is frustrating. Because each features several animals, they take much longer, contributing to the feeling I’m not producing enough finished work.
I have stolen an hour here and there to work on palate cleansers between the two commissions, the two rough bear paintings in this post. One of these sketches is part of a larger painting I wanted to have done before the end of this month, but it’s not happening. Hopefully, I’ll have something finished to share before too long.
In the meantime, I hope you’re having a good summer despite the oppressive heat and wildfire smoke in some places. After a cool and comfortable rainy June, our July has sucked up all the moisture, and our brown grass and crispy trees could use some precipitation.
Because of my current workload and deadlines, I haven’t been able to get away for reference photos lately. Shonna and I want to see our families and visit Discovery Wildlife Park, but her workload has been ridiculous this summer, so getting away has been challenging. I also meant to get down to Coaldale to the Alberta Birds of Prey Centre this spring, but that didn’t work out. Hopefully, I can get there before their season wraps at the end of August.
I drove to the Calgary Zoo on Tuesday to deliver a large print and sticker order. I was glad to get it done early in the week as the city is about to get very busy with the Canada Day long weekend, followed by the Calgary Stampede later next week.
With plenty of school groups on field trips this time of year and attendance high with the warmer weather, I didn’t expect to spend long at the zoo. But I brought my camera, just in case.
Within five minutes, I was ready to go. I’m not a fan of crowds, especially those made up of children. There’s something about that high-pitched, sugar-powered screaming that triggers my flight response.
If a foreign power ever tried to get me to reveal state secrets, they’d only have to suggest chaining me to a chair in a daycare, and I’d tell them everything. It’s a good thing I know absolutely nothing of value.
For those who keep suggesting it, I have no interest in drawing a children’s book.
But because I was already at the zoo, I gritted my teeth and set off to walk the circuit to see what I could see.
When I got to the new polar bear habitat, I was surprised to find both bears sparring with each other in their smaller splash pool. They have a much larger pool, but this was clearly where they wanted to be. Baffin and Siku seemed to be having a great time, wrestling, biting, and pushing each other under the water.
As one school group moved on, I parked myself at the edge of the window before the next group could arrive, and for a good ten or fifteen minutes, took photos through the glass of two polar bears, playing ten feet from my lens. I couldn’t have asked for a better vantage point.
Though I have just finished a polar bear painting and haven’t time to start another one, I took plenty of references for future projects.
Prints of that new piece, Big Bear on Blue, are now available in the store.
My zookeeper friend Kayla had to miss Expo this year, so it was nice to chat with her outside the wolf habitat before she and a colleague introduced some fish-oil-scented enrichment the wolves seemed to enjoy taking apart.
Finally, at the other end of the zoo, I caught the red pandas awake and playful and took photos that will no doubt inspire paintings down the road. One had found a perch high in a tree, balanced over a branch, in a comically lazy pose. There’s painting potential there.
After only a couple of hours, I was more than ready to head home, sort through the pics, and finish drawing an editorial cartoon.
As I’ve made a couple of commissions my priority right now, I don’t have any new progress to share on the other pieces I’m painting. Hopefully, I can put some more hours into those this weekend and share some new images next week.