
You’ve all heard plenty about the three-cat commission I’ve been working on in recent months, so I’m pleased to finally reveal the finished painting of Fable, Mortdecai, and Jack.
Commissions are always challenging, involving plenty of photos and communication before I ever put down a brush stroke. I can’t get the likeness and personality right if I don’t know the subject.
While Mortdecai has some white in him, they’re all still black cats. Both black and white animals, wild or domestic, bring their own difficulties, mostly because they’re not really either. Black fur is defined by the light it reflects, and white fur has similar challenges. It’s the shading that gives the features depth and form.
These challenges don’t make them less desirable to paint, though. One of my favourite animals to paint is a raven. I enjoy working blue highlights and accents into black feathers and fur, finding that balance between too much and too little. That love of painting light on dark was a big part of this commission.
Tobi, my client, has a thing for ravens. A lot of the art in her home features them, and I can’t say I blame her. Shonna and I admired some striking raven pieces on her walls when we visited. Shonna likes ravens, too, and longtime followers might recall the aluminum print photo I gave her for her 50th birthday. You can see and read about it here.
Tobi has been following my work for quite some time. Along with other art in her collection, she owns many of my 11×14 poster prints and a few metal pieces. For this delivery, she had also ordered a custom 16×16 square-cropped metal print of my Winter Raven painting, along with the cat commission.
Tobi had requested a square version of that painting to match the size of the Blue Beak Raven metal print she already had, and I was happy to accommodate.
Commissions require a lot of back-and-forth. My clients need to be part of the process, otherwise I may not be able to deliver what they want. I’m fortunate that those who have hired me to paint their pets have almost all been engaged and enthusiastic. They dig up photos, share stories, and talk about personalities and quirks. All of it helps me do my best work.
Tobi was a joy to work with. She gave me dozens of photos of all three cats, shared their backstories, and talked about their most prominent features. She also gave me plenty of time, which I’ve needed this year. The only pressure was self-inflicted.
Commissions are a significant financial investment, and I don’t take that lightly. Once someone has paid their 50% installment, I’ve got a ticking clock in my head that gets louder the more time passes. Between editorial cartoon deadlines, marketing, and other projects, I’m always trying to carve out time for whichever commission is on deck.
Because I knew three cats in one painting would take more time than any other commission I’ve done, I shared work-in-progress shots with Tobi and with all of you. I don’t usually do that, but since she’s been following my work for so long, I knew she could tell the difference between sketches, roughs, and a finished piece.
Sharing those early stages turned out to be a good decision. It’s tough to make three similar-looking cats look like individuals, but Tobi’s feedback on each cat helped me make subtle adjustments before the detail stage, which led to better likenesses for all three. Best of all, I could reassure her that I was making steady progress.
When I finally showed Tobi the finished painting on a Sunday morning a couple of weeks ago, I nervously waited for her reply. I always expect the worst until I hear otherwise. Thankfully, she didn’t make me wait long.
“The painting is PERFECT!!!! I’m absolutely dying over here, somewhere between laughing out loud and choking up a little bit, because you’ve captured all three of the boys so amazingly!! Their expressions and personalities are spot-on, I don’t even understand how it’s possible! I am overwhelmed and absolutely thrilled with it!”
That kind of reaction never gets old.
Once the metal print arrived, this shot taken with a lot of light, I arranged to deliver it to Tobi’s home in Calgary. Shonna came along for the ride, and we enjoyed the reveal in person. We also wanted to meet the cats, of course, but in true feline fashion, one ran away, one watched us from up the stairs, and the third never showed. Our old cat Muse was like that, too. Great with us, no time for anyone else.
As with all commissions, there’s a great sense of accomplishment when I deliver what a client has hired me to do. It’s humbling enough that anyone would buy the whimsical wildlife artwork I create on my own. But to hire me to paint their furry family members in my style is about the biggest compliment I get.
For all of you who have hired me to paint your pets, I remain grateful for your trust, and I hope your paintings make you smile each time you see them. And for those still waiting, thank you for your patience. I’ll do my best to make it worth the wait.
After I sent Tobi a selection of finished images for her use, something I include with every commission, she replied, “This has been such a great experience, and one that I’ll definitely be talking about for years to come.”
I’m working on a video about this piece and will share that with all of you soon.



After wrapping up the three-cat commission I’ve been working on (and talking about) for the past couple of months, I needed a reset. Not a full break—but something without expectations, pressure, or deadlines. Just a chance to paint for myself again.










When people talk about art for a living, they usually mean the highlights—the big launches, the finished pieces, the stuff that looks good on a timeline. But this—the half-finished paintings, the licensing negotiations, the time made for ideas—this is the work.

This particular cartoon also featured a grizzly bear—so the best of both worlds. I signed both prints and shipped them yesterday.
I’m always surprised when I sort through reference photos, because often something I thought I had, doesn’t look as good when I get home. And then a random throwaway photo might spark a painting.
This little calf was painted from reference I took at the cabin a few years ago. I’ve since retired it because frankly it wasn’t popular, even though I enjoyed the work and like the painting. That happens a lot, where my favourites may not be your favourites.
But one evening on this visit, I noticed the neighbour’s cows hanging around his gate near the road, and shortly after this first pic, they clustered together and it struck me comical. So I took a bunch of photos, and though I’d work from several of the ones I shot, I think there’s a painting here. Already thinking about how long it would take, but this is a marathon, not a sprint.
I’ll have to let it simmer a bit, but whenever I hear that voice whisper, “hey, look here,” I try to pay attention.
And while I still spent too much time in my own head, thinking about work and worrying about things I can’t control, the setting and company helped me turn down the volume for a few days.
I’ve been working on a commission of three cats, and it’s coming along well. The client has provided some valuable feedback on the images I’ve shared so far. I’ve also recorded a bunch of the process, written the video narrative, and I’m still working on that video and the painting itself.
I based this little fawn on reference I shot at 

But even that’s not as comforting as it used to be. The wildfire threat has been weighing heavy. After Jasper’s nightmare last year, it feels like everyone in our part of Alberta is bracing for our turn. Banff and Canmore have done prescribed burns for years, but now they’re also logging to create larger fire breaks. Nobody’s complaining.
I’ve been working on a big
Meanwhile, I haven’t finished a new wildlife piece in a while, and that’s eating at me.


When I’m doing commissions and editorial work, that usually means less time for whimsical wildlife. But if I want to have anything to share with you all, I need to loosen the reins a bit.
Recording the painting process as I go, I’ll add some narration once I wrestle this new video software into submission. I’m hoping to share it in a week or two.
My client kindly gave me permission to share these images and the upcoming video. And since many of you have told me you like seeing how the sausage is made, I’ll be sharing more of that this year.
People often ask what it means. If I’m that solitary dot in the middle, my best chance of connecting with others is through my artwork, represented by the bear claws. But just as important is the reverse, where nature, wildlife and the world around me deliver the inspiration to create more art.
I have been frustrated the past few years that it seems I can never get as much done as I would like to, still failing to find traction. I have too many ideas, too much ambition, and little time to do it all. As fiction writers need to aggressively edit and ‘kill their darlings’ to make for a better story, I must abandon some things to make progress on the ones that mean the most to me.
I haven’t painted anything in a month and needed to get back into the groove. These were supposed to be rougher sketches, but it’s difficult to stop once I get going. These are neither sketches nor finished paintings, but somewhere in the middle.