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Polar Plunge

In June of last year, I painted my Big Bear on Blue polar bear painting, which is now a popular print. Pacific Music & Art used it as the cover of their 2025 calendar featuring my artwork. I like that painting and didn’t feel the need to create another polar bear image, at least not right away.

In July of last year, however,  I shared the following sketch painting, the term I use for unfinished experiments. Because I had just painted a polar bear, I didn’t see the need to take it any further.
But it had received a positive response, and a few people sent me emails asking if I would finish it. So, over the last week, I put the time in to complete it, and I think Polar Plunge will be a nice addition to my print releases for spring.

At the beginning of this year, I spent a few days looking through unfinished paintings. There are a couple I had forgotten about that I’d now like to dust off and complete, and I’d like to finish as many paintings in progress as I can before I start anything new.

I also created a 2025 list of folders with reference files, so I don’t have to wonder what’s coming next.

There’s always a short-lived high whenever I finish a painting. Years ago, it used to last for a week. Now, it lasts for about an hour, followed by a bit of a crash, for anywhere from a couple of days to a week. If I look through my reference files during that post-painting hangover, hoping to find the next idea, nothing inspires me.

This year, I decided to eliminate that problem. Art for a living is a job, and when one painting is finished, I need to start another, regardless of whether I feel like it. Thankfully, I now have 28 new folders containing reference images for paintings I can start right away. Some are paintings I need to finish, like the group of ring-tailed lemurs I’ve been working on. As I complete a painting, I’ll choose another folder and start the next one. And even if I’m not ‘feeling it,’ that will pass soon enough as I get into the new piece, because lost in the details of a painting is about as happy as I get.

I have never painted that many images in a year, but that’s not the goal. I simply now have 28 options and no excuses not to start a new piece.

When I’m not feeling especially creative, it helps to think of each painting as a commission. When clients pay me to paint their pets, I have a deadline or know that I’m wasting their time and money if I don’t work on their painting. Guilt is a strong motivator.

I’m trying to shift my perspective regarding my own paintings where I’m the client, and by not working, I’m wasting my own time and potential revenue.

I’m also working to create a new portfolio this year to attract new licensing clients. Even though many of my licenses aren’t exclusive, some companies are still reluctant to use an image on similar products if another company uses it, even if the market conflict is minimal. Anything can happen, and relying on only a few clients risks future income security. The loss of newspaper clients in recent years illustrates that point well.

While editorial cartooning is still a large part of my business, newspapers have experienced a steady decline for years, so it no longer provides a full-time income on its own. If I hadn’t had the whimsical wildlife side of my business, which is now the most significant portion of my income, I would have had to get a part-time job a few years ago.
Last week, I delivered the year’s first print and sticker order to the Calgary Zoo. It was warm, with plenty of sunshine, and there weren’t many people. Even traffic was light, so I had an enjoyable day. When I got there, I chatted with the retail manager and the staff I know, then wandered through Canadian Wilds, my favourite part of the zoo.

I texted my friend Kayla, one of the zookeepers, asking if she was working and where she was. She said she was in the North American porcupine enclosure, so I went there. Kayla was one of those who asked me if I was ever going to complete this new polar bear painting, so I was happy to tell her the finished painting was imminent.
Porcupines are nocturnal, so they’re not active during the day, but like any animal, they’ll make an effort when food is involved. Because Kayla was inside the enclosure, feeding the cute and prickly resident, we had a nice chat while I got some decent reference shots. Add those to the ones I’ve taken at Discovery Wildlife Park, and there is now a Porcupine folder in my list of paintings I’d like to get to this year.

Though I took many more photos of different animals that day, most weren’t worth keeping. Bright sunny days and photography don’t usually mix. No matter how you compensate with camera settings, the lights end up too bright, the shadows too dark, and you can only fix so much in Photoshop. The sun is also low in the sky this time of year, which doesn’t help.

Normally, I’d be disappointed, but there have been plenty of days I’ve come home with dozens of shots worth keeping, and it often takes me years to get to them. And as I’ve explained, I have no shortage of paintings to get to this year. Hey, I delivered an order to one of my best customers, got out of the office, and had a nice day outside in the middle of winter. I have no complaints.

While I’ve recorded the occasional high-speed video for YouTube, it’s been quite a while, and I want to get back to using that platform to help promote my work. I’ve been spending a lot of time lately learning to use new recording software and hardware. Something many artists don’t realize when they want to turn their hobby into their work is that the business and promotion side of self-employment requires constant adaptation and continuing education. While it takes time away from creating art, it’s necessary for career longevity. Just because something worked well ten years ago, doesn’t mean it will today.

While I’m learning the ropes of these new tools and preparing to create more videos, I’ve got a few more paintings in progress to complete, and as I do, I look forward to sharing them with you.

Cheers,
Patrick

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Raptor Rain

Painting the wet look in this one was challenging because I had to decide where to draw the line. I could have added more rain in the background and foreground, but I’d risk it looking too busy. The same could be said for the water droplets I painted on the feathers. More definition might equal more distraction.

Had I made the eagle wetter, it would mean flattening the feathers, making a dome out of the crown of its head. More accurate, perhaps, but I like painting fur and feathers, so I kept the wet look but still showed the definition. Maybe it had just given its head a shake.

Ultimately, I chose to go with what I do best: the detail in the face, expression and personality. Too much time spent on painting the forest might mean nobody sees the tree. A painting is not defined only by what you include but also what you choose to leave out.

I already have a bald eagle painting that’s been popular for many years in both prints and licensing. It often feels that if I paint more than one of an animal, the second might not be as good as the first, or at least as well received.

That’s foolish, of course.

People like both of my Snow Leopard and Snow Queen paintings. I’ve watched snow leopard fans choose between them at markets, and neither is the consistent winner. I’ve also painted more bears than any other animal, and there’s no chance I’ll stop anytime soon. I’ve also heard no complaints.

Jackie and Shadow on the FOBBV webcam in their nest in Big Bear Valley, California

I’ve seen plenty of eagles on several trips to Vancouver Island and on visits to the Alberta Birds of Prey Centre in Coaldale. A few years ago, a subscriber (Hi, Eileen!) sent me a link to a wildlife cam near her home in Big Bear Valley, California. Ever since then, right around this time, I enjoy checking in on Jackie and Shadow as they try again for another viable clutch of eggs. Nothing so far, but fingers crossed.
Though we romanticize eagles, imagining them soaring high in the sky for the sheer joy of flying, they’re experts at energy conservation and efficiency. Flying takes a lot of effort, and unless it’s for food or mating, an eagle is most content sitting in a tree all day. That’s also why some scavenge and eat carrion when available rather than hunt for fresh prey.
They have exercise runways at the Birds of Prey Centre, and the flight training is fun to watch. Though they try to release most rescued birds back into the wild, it’s not always an option and some become residents. The staff weigh the birds to keep them hungry enough that food is still a motivator. When it’s time for exercise, food rewards entice the birds to fly back and forth on the runways.It doesn’t take many trips for the eagles and hawks to get tired, and bald eagles and other raptors will overheat if they fly a lot. They cool off by holding their wings open and panting like dogs. After training sessions, especially on warm days, the eagles return to the open aviary for a shower. Placed on a perch, the staff hose them down, and the eagles obviously enjoy it.
I’ve taken several wet eagle photos on multiple visits, and had the idea for this painting a few years ago. My recent trip down there this summer reminded me to paint this raptor in the rain.

Cheers,
Patrick

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The Grizzlies

“How long does it take you to paint one of these?”

It’s one of the most common questions I get.

Do I include all the time and travel? Taking, sorting and editing reference photos? How about sketches and roughs? What about the paintings where I took the reference a few years ago but wasn’t inspired by them until much later?

I’ve never completed a painting in one sitting. It’s usually one or two hours at a time. When I’m not painting, I draw editorial cartoons, do my bookkeeping, admin work, format and order products, email clients, and try to have a life, none of which is on a schedule. Sometimes, I start a painting and don’t return to it for a week. Right now, I have at least five paintings in different stages of completion.

So, technically, I have no idea how long it really takes to complete each painting.

But rather than bore a market booth customer with a complicated, existential answer to a simple question, I usually ballpark it and say, “Somewhere around 15 or 20 hours.”

I don’t know if that’s more or less than what they expected.
The spark for this painting was reference photos I took at the Calgary Zoo in June of 2023. I enjoyed watching long-time grizzly resident Skoki straddle a log while resting his arms on another log across it. It reminded me of somebody bellying up to a bar to order a drink.

He sat there for a good long while and I took dozens of photos of him turning this way and that. The painting that first came to mind was four or five grizzlies sitting at the log, like buddies at the bar. I even figured I might call it Grizzly Bar.
I did some drawings shortly after that and returned to them whenever I had the time. While Skoki was the inspiration, I used several bears in my photo archive as reference for the bodies and faces. If nothing else, I figured they would be good sketches for the book I’ve been talking about for years, but to my eternal shame, never deliver.
Once I had several sketches, I pieced them together, trying to find a composition I liked. The five grizzly bear buddies soon became five members of a family. It reminded me of a grizzly bear version of a Sears family portrait photo shoot. Refining the shapes so they fit together, and reimagining the expressions meant losing a lot of the sketch detail I had already drawn, but that’s just part of the process.
Many paintings begin as one idea but take on their own life while I work. I have no idea how many hours I’ve put into this piece, but it’s more than any painting before.
Rather than work in colour from the start, as with other paintings, I started this one in greyscale because I wanted to play with the values and experiment with the scene. Once I had a good starting point, I painted colour in the background and foreground, leaving the grizzlies for last.

I’ll confess I don’t much like painting landscapes or scenery, so I wanted to get that out of the way to get to the part I love most — the bears, of course.
Initially, the berries in the foreground were bright red. But when I showed this work-in-progress image to my buddy, Derek, at Electric Grizzly Tattoo, he suggested they might be a distraction from the bears. It was a helpful critique. So, I toned down the berries and made them a deeper burgundy and blue.
As brown bears come in many shades, from dark brown to red to blonde, I had initially planned to have a more noticeable colour difference between the five. But it looked weird, and I didn’t like it, so I erred on the side of more subtle variations in fur colour.
One of the nice things about working digitally is that at the end of each painting session, I can look back at the image when I opened the file and compare it to progress at the end of a session. It’s often a big difference, and that’s satisfying. However, when a painting nears completion, two hours of work may be barely noticeable before and after. That’s usually how I know it’s time to call it done.

For you digital painters, this was a very big file with a lot of detail. The finished dimensions are  30″X40″ at 300ppi. Near the end of this piece, with seven layers, the working file size was over 1.5GB. Thankfully my computer can handle it, but I still closed and reopened the program every half hour or so to prevent any lag. With a file this big, a crash can happen and losing an hour of work is a real risk.
Deciding whether I like a piece or not takes time, but I’m pretty happy with how this turned out. I liked my Meerkat piece when I finished it, but it took four weeks of it hanging on the grid wall beside me at The Banff Christmas Market before I realized it’s one of my personal favourites.
Because of the current uncertain economy, I’m not yet committing to doing puzzles again right away. But when I do, I think this grizzly family is worthy of consideration.

What do you think? Let me know in the comments.

Cheers,
Patrick

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The Ticking Clock

New subscribers usually follow me for my whimsical wildlife art. They’re often unaware that half of my business, about 40% these days, is drawing syndicated editorial cartoons for daily and weekly newspapers in several Canadian provinces. In addition to painting my wildlife art, I draw six or seven cartoons each week.

A short time ago, I wrote a post about my disappointment at the outcome of the US election. For my email subscribers, I prefaced it with a clear statement that the narrative they were about to read was political. I suggested that subscribers who’d rather not read that opinion piece could close the email, and I’d have something more up-tempo for them later.

Of course, one subscriber who kept reading (his choice) and didn’t like it, sent me an email that read, “Nobody cares about your TDS, JUST DRAW PICTURES. I am embarrassed to own your art work now, stop it.”

TDS means Trump Derangement Syndrome. I had to look it up.

The loudest advocates for freedom of speech are almost always talking exclusively about their own. Because I long ago learned the lessons about the futility of online arguments, I didn’t respond, and he unsubscribed.

Though the following is not political, it’s not upbeat. It’s not a New Year’s post that this will be the best year ever! Some might consider it dark and sombre as it puts a harsh spotlight on the fact that we each have an expiry date, and none of us knows when that is.

If you’re not up for that kind of read, this is your exit. Drive safely. We can meet up a little further down the road.

Still here? Your call.

I saw a news article this week titled The Celebrities We Lost in 2024. Many on the list I hadn’t heard about their passing or had forgotten I’d seen it. True to my nature, I noted each cause of death. It happens once you reach a certain age; you realize that, yeah, it’s coming. Unfortunately, I began ruminating on my pending demise years earlier than I should have, a consequence of OCD and anxiety issues.

I’m not afraid of death. I imagine, for many, it’s like going to sleep. You’re awake, then you’re not. Out, brief candle, and all that. If there’s something afterward, I’ll find out then. I am, however, terrified of failing health, physical infirmity and cognitive decline. The shit you think only happens to other people can and will happen to you or those you care about.

I am also afraid of regret, a life unlived, and unrealized potential.

I don’t care if I’m remembered. Most of us aren’t. I once read a conversation where the question was asked, “What was your grandfather’s name?”

Upon receiving the answer, the follow-up question was, “What was his grandfather’s name?”

Very few of us could answer the second question correctly, and that’s the point.

If I’m going to be here, and if it doesn’t matter much in the cosmic timeline, I’d like to do something worthwhile, or at least fool myself into thinking so.

So far, I feel I haven’t.  Sadly, that perspective means I’ll likely never feel like I’ve done enough because I couldn’t even tell you what that means. Whatever laurels may come, I will never rest on them. Retirement doesn’t appeal to me. I need to keep busy. It’s the only way to turn the volume down on the noise in my head.
On that list of celebrity passings, for the ones that didn’t say, I found myself looking up their causes of death. Mostly, it was the usual suspects I don’t need to list. They’re the indignities of disease and illness that can strike any time but become more likely the longer we’re here.

And I found myself looking at their ages; the ones that stood out were those around my own. We view the world from the space and time we occupy. I was once an arrogant 20-year-old who viewed 40 as something that happened to other people.

My Dad’s brother and their father both died at 53, the age I am now. While both were consequences of vice and bad habits, I didn’t realize how that fact has coloured my perspective for much of my adult life. Whether I registered it or not, I have long viewed my fifties as old age. Even though I am in good physical health (mental, the jury’s still out) and barring any skeletal spectre’s finger settling on my forehead, odds are I have many productive years ahead of me and miles to go before I sleep.

Regardless, I have long heard a ticking clock. And when the bell tolls, I won’t ask “Why me?”

It means I don’t often enjoy moments as they happen because I’m a pessimist by nature. I know that good or bad, young or old, fate does not have a conscience. It doesn’t discriminate.

My wife’s only sister was 20 years old when she died, thrown from a horse. She was an experienced rider, and it was bad luck that it happened in the wrong place. Five feet in any direction, and she might have been fine. It was a simple accident, and suddenly, she didn’t get to experience all the little things most of us take for granted.

And yet, some very nasty prominent people amass obscene fortunes through nefarious means, exploiting millions of people they’ll never meet and live well into their senior years. We might kid ourselves that money doesn’t buy happiness, but it sure as hell buys comfort and health care.

Life ain’t fair. Never has been.

So, while I may not always enjoy the little things as I should or stop and smell the roses, I have no delusions about my time here. It can end today or in forty years, likely in a manner I don’t see coming.

I know it’s an unhealthy perspective, but at the end of each year, I often look back with regret for the things I’ve wasted my time on. And for the failures, of which there are many, I take a deep breath and with a furrowed brow and through clenched teeth, resolve to try, try again in the year ahead.
Though clichés and platitudes, there are lessons I clearly haven’t yet learned, that I’d do well to remember heading into 2025. Perhaps they’ll give you something to consider as well.

You can’t change other people. You can only change yourself. To many you know, your value is only what you can do for them, and they have assigned you a specific place and position in their life. You are the average of the five people you spend the most time with. Some want to see you grow. Others want you to stay right where you are.

Change never happens when you’re comfortable. Discomfort is often a necessary trigger to motivate sedentary people into action, especially when you’ve finally had enough of whatever you can no longer tolerate.

If you do the same things, you get the same results. Blame is easy. So are excuses.

Your job will be posted before your obituary. How you spend your days is how you spend your life.

I don’t know about you, but I have spent far too much time watching television and following unimportant news stories designed by an algorithm to trigger my negative emotions. It is nobody’s fault but mine because I allowed it and kept returning for more.

If you want to spend less time on your devices, then spend less time on your devices. The choice is that simple. You break a bad habit by replacing it with a better one. And yes, it’s hard to do.

There are 8 billion people on the planet. Expecting them to see the world exactly how you do is foolish and arrogant. We are each the product of our genetics, upbringing and experiences; no individual life is a copy of another. And yet, out of fear and a need to feel secure in our choices, we might call somebody else stupid if they choose to drive a different car than we would.

Stand in someone else’s shoes. Consider that you might be wrong.

Don’t take criticism from people who would never take it from you.

Success means different things to different people. You won’t know what winning looks like if you’ve never lost. There is a price to pay for everything. Nothing worthwhile happens without effort and sacrifice. They don’t engrave how many likes and shares you got on your tombstone.

Most people aren’t thinking about you. They’re thinking about themselves. What a relief. Live your own life. Let others do the same.

We’re all on different paths but most definitely heading to the same destination.

Time’s ticking.

Good luck.
____
©Patrick LaMontagne 2024

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Open for Business


I woke this morning to news alerts that Canada Post will return to work tomorrow (Tuesday) morning. That’s good news, but unfortunately, not soon enough to save the holiday season for most retailers and small businesses whose online sales are critical this time of year.

I suspended my store over a month ago, but with the news that shipping may resume, I’ve updated my stock, reactivated each product, and am ready to resume taking orders, with one very important caveat: anything I ship won’t get there by Christmas.

It will take Canada Post some time to get through the enormous backlog of mail that’s likely bursting at the seams all over the country. I imagine that will be the priority before any new mail.

But we work with what we have.
I still have plenty of 2025 calendars available, plus various prints, postcard sets and large vinyl stickers in my regular stock. So, if you’re still looking for your 2025 calendar full of funny-looking animals and don’t need it shipped for Christmas, you may place your orders.

FREE DELIVERY FOR CANMORE RESIDENTS

With decent weather this week and no out-of-town plans, I’m happy to deliver orders anywhere in Canmore, but with two minor conditions. It’s a minimum $25 order for free delivery, and I’m only taking payment by e-transfer. Please email me your order with the address to patrick@nulllamontagneart.com, and I can reply with a total and set up a convenient delivery time.

My thanks,
Patrick

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Banff Market Christmas Wrap

In the runup to the Banff Christmas Market, I had concerns. Will I have enough stock? Will I get enough sales? Will I get my editorial cartoons done each week? What if I get sick? What if the weather turns horrible?

Before I became a full-time artist in my early thirties, I worked several years in retail, tourism and office jobs. I ran a waterslide facility at a hotel in Banff for a few years. During the busy season, that place was always loud and full of people. I also managed a few retail stores in Banff for a while, so I’m no stranger to customer service work or crowded environments.

But I’ve been working at home by myself for nearly twenty years. These days, I thrive in quiet solitude. Though I’ve done the Calgary Expo every year for over a decade and the occasional holiday market around here, being ON in a public setting for a month required the reactivation of rusty skills.

In the four days between each market, I had to draw my daily editorial cartoons, update my bookkeeping, order stock, respond to client inquiries, and prepare for the following weekend. During a bit of a lull this past Saturday, I excitedly said to my market neighbours, “I get to paint next week!”

I haven’t had time to paint anything in over a month, and I’ve missed it.

It takes many hours to paint one of my animals. Sometimes, it doesn’t come together the way I want, and there’s no shortage of frustration. I wrote about that recently with the Ring-tailed Lemurs piece I’m working on. But creating the art is still the easy part. I want to problem-solve a painting, discover the solutions, and apply the lessons I learn from each piece to the next one.

However, the work surrounding the creative part takes more time than the art itself. When it’s your job, you can’t just create art; you must also sell it. Marketing and finding the products on which a particular art style works best is difficult. A product that sells well for one artist may not for another, and you only learn by trying.

My metal and canvas prints are higher-priced items that adorn the grid walls of my market booth, and those show off the brush strokes and colours better than any other substrate I sell. I don’t sell many of them because they have a higher price tag.

But they look amazing under lights, which attracts people to come into the booth in the first place. So, I need those higher-priced items to get people to stop and look at everything else. They’re products, but also advertising.
They do sell, however. I had one woman in Canmore send me an email after the market one Saturday night, regretting she didn’t buy the 16”X16” metal print of my Blue Beak Raven.

I told her I still had it; she sent me an e-transfer, and when I got to the show Sunday morning, I wrapped it and put it in my car. I delivered it to her the next day. Later that week, she sent me a photo of it hanging in her home. That never gets old.
Another gentleman wanted the same size Spa Day painting on metal I had in the booth, plus a 12”X16” metal print of my Genial Grizzly I didn’t have. I said I could order and deliver the missing one to him, but he didn’t want to carry the other one around. He asked if he could pay for them, and I could order and drop both of them off in Canmore when they arrived. He wasn’t in a rush, and I was happy to accommodate.
I wanted to sell the metal and canvas prints, but I didn’t want to lose Spa Day on the wall because it attracts a lot of attention. It has become a bestseller, and the metal prints on the wall sell the poster prints on the tables.

Prepare as I might; what’s true one day might not be the next. Last year, I had two metal prints of my Peanuts painting, one of my personal favourites. It doesn’t work as a poster print because it’s a square composition, so it’s only available in metal or canvas. This year, I made sure to have two metal prints on hand, and I sold them both the first weekend. So, I ordered three more for the last two weekends.
I had two metal prints of my Raven on White painting and two of my Highland Cows. I sold one of each the first weekend, so I figured I should get spares.

Those five metal prints arrived in time for the last two weekends, and I didn’t sell another of any of them. It turned out to be an unnecessary expense. There’s just no way to know.
But the Highland Cow on the wall sold many poster prints over four weeks, more than any other image. The Raven on White print was also a bestseller.

Thankfully, art doesn’t expire and those metal prints will sit safe and sound in their case until the Calgary Expo in the spring.

As for the other products, I sold a lot of small magnets and ceramic coasters. Those are Pacific Music & Art licensed products. Calendars sold well when I had them, but because the Canada Post strike is causing national shipping issues, I had none for the third weekend and couldn’t sell all the reorders the last weekend. As I write this post, there is no end in sight for the strike, so I have no idea when I’ll be able to sell my remaining stock. Unlike prints, calendars have a limited shelf life.

I’m very pleased and relieved that my large initial inventory of poster prints is now much smaller. Now that I have retired even more paintings, I’ll bring a leaner gallery of prints to the Expo in April, with many new paintings I’m working on and more popular and proven sellers than ever before.

What about my initial worries about four weeks of the Banff Christmas Market? For the most part, I had enough stock. When the Highland Cow prints sold out way too early, Art Ink Print in Victoria had my back and quickly resupplied me. Those continued to sell well the whole show. When I sold out of calendars and Highland Cow magnets, Pacific Music and Art did their best to deliver, though courier shipping delays threw a wrench in the gears, and those arrived later than I needed them.

As usual, I got my editorial cartoons done. Most of my newspaper clients don’t even know about this larger side of my business. Then again, many people who know my animal art don’t know about my editorial cartoons.
I had made sure to get my flu and COVID boosters before the markets, but still ‘got sick,’ knocked on my ass by a cold in between Weekends 2 and 3. If you wonder where I get my cartoon ideas, life inspires art. But just like everybody else who gambles with seasonal viruses, I handled it. Inconvenient, uncomfortable, but manageable. And though I began that third weekend still suffering and wearing a mask for a day, it was my second-best sales weekend.

The weather was only horrible once when I had to drive home in a whiteout on frightening roads. There were a couple of icy mornings/evenings on the highway when a Chinook wind delivered rain around the freezing mark. But that’s just driving to work in Canada.

As for sales, I’m happy. The significant expense of booking the booth, insurance, ordering more stock than I’ve ever had, and gambling on such a large event paid off.
I regret I have no decent photos of my booth. The bright light on the artwork looks great in person, but my older iPhone camera just can’t seem to compensate correctly, even with an accessory filter. It’s no doubt a user problem.

The new venue at The Banff Train Station was terrific. I was happy with the booth location and had a lot of fun with my neighbours. It was nice to have coworkers again, for a short time. While telling Shonna some of the funny stories, of which there were many, she laughed and said we sounded like a bunch of carnival workers.

She wasn’t wrong.

The organizers and staff put on a great show; I have no complaints or critiques. Challenges happen at every event, but this dedicated group handled them well, and I commend their efforts. Applications for Banff Christmas Market 2025 aren’t until February, but I’m ready to do this again next year for all four weeks if they’ll have me.

Finally, thanks to all of you who came to see me at my booth. Some subscribers even drove out from Canmore, Calgary, or other parts of Alberta because they had read my posts about the market. It was great to see you, and I’ll see several of you again in April at the Expo.

I added a lot of new subscribers to A Wilder View and hope you new people enjoy following my art and the stories behind it. Thanks for taking some of my work home with you or buying it for gifts. Each year, more people tell me they have one or more of my funny-looking animal paintings. They’ve bought them at The Calgary Zoo, Discovery Wildlife Park, or in one of the many retail stores in Canada selling products made by my licensing clients.

Many have bought the art directly from me at the Calgary Expo or previous Christmas markets. You all say the nicest things and pay me the kindest compliments. I’m never comfortable with that, but I’ve learned long ago just to say Thank You.

Face-to-face time with people who enjoy my work never fails to refill the creative tank. I can’t tell you how fulfilling it is to see my silly little critters make people smile or to hear how happy they make you.

So far this week, I’ve been busy drawing cartoons, doing the bookkeeping, organizing my booth hardware and products and putting it all away for a few months. I’m tired and ready for a break, looking forward to quiet time alone, with tunes in the earbuds, fresh hot coffee, and uninterrupted hours painting little hairs on smiling faces.

Art-for-a-living is a lot of work, but your support makes it well worth it. Thank you.

Cheers,
Patrick

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Give a Little Bit

I know a couple of business owners in Canmore who were inundated with requests to support every local event, fundraiser or charity for years. Because of the nature of the business, the requests were often for supplies, products or staff to support an event.

They’re generous guys and genuinely like to help the community, but each request failed to consider that they were the fifth one that week. If the guys said they couldn’t help, suddenly they were the villains.
 
They decided to pick one cause that mattered to them and give their full support. That way, they still got to do their part. And when the inevitable next request came in, they could say, “We’d love to help, but our charitable efforts support (insert name here).”
I often get requests to donate artwork, money, or even commissions. But years ago, I decided to follow the same route and only donate my time, efforts and funds to support wild animals. For years, I’ve made an automatic monthly donation to The Alberta Birds of Prey Foundation in Coaldale, Alberta.
I know the money they get supports an independent operation with hardworking people. Colin Weir has worked for decades rescuing eagles, owls, hawks and other birds, rehabilitating and releasing them back into the wild. They’re a registered charity and receive no government funding. Though I don’t get there as often as I’d like, each time I go, I see the evidence of their great work.

Though they don’t make a lot of requests and sell my work in their gift shop, I donate my skills to Discovery Wildlife Park. Each year, I update their park map to reflect any changes. I’ve done a life-size cartoon bear portrait for them, and they know they can ask for my help whenever needed.

I’m not breaking the bank with either of those donations, but if I can save them a little on graphic design costs here and there, I’m happy to help. As for the bird sanctuary, regular monthly donations allow a charity or cause to budget for future projects and operating costs because they know that money from their regular donors is coming next month and the month after.
I hear from time to time that I should do a special edition series or offer some item and give a share of the profits to a charity. When you make a donation contingent on sales, it can come across as a marketing gimmick rather than a genuine desire to help a charity. There’s also little accountability unless you’re willing to open your books to the public. By donating to causes personally important to me, it has nothing to do with whether an item sold well or not.

So today, on Giving Tuesday, a day after the traditional excess of Black Friday and Cyber Monday deals and discount shopping, I have a request. No, I’m not asking you to send me money or buy my stuff.

I’d like to encourage you to find a cause you can support with a small monthly donation.

Do a little research. Find a cause you care about that may not get much support but really needs it. It’s easy to give to the massive global or national machine charities whose names we all know, but many of them are bloated with bureaucracy, and the money you send each month may go to some board member’s parking reimbursement or pay for their breakfast at a convention.

Find something small, maybe even local, where your donation matters. When you can’t donate your time, a little money each month will support the efforts of those who can.

We’re constantly assaulted with bad news, but good people do great work every day to try and make a difference. Help a few of them out if you can.

Cheers,
Patrick

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The Third Christmas Market and a Visit from the Grinch

Last week was a challenge.

Of all the things I didn’t want to bring home from the Banff Christmas Market, the common cold was near the top of the list. I don’t get sick often, but when I do, it’s usually a full beating of a man cold. This one wasn’t fun, but it was better than most, and I had a few days to lay low at home before the third market. I felt a lot better on Friday but was still symptomatic, so I revived one of my tiger masks to prevent spreading the fun.

When I could tell people couldn’t hear me well and I had to speak up, I apologized and explained why I was wearing the mask. Some said they appreciated my not wanting to spread my cold. Others thought I was wearing it as part of the animal theme. I got many compliments, and somebody even asked if I was selling them.

I had ordered some replacement metal prints that sold the first weekend, and they were supposed to be here by Friday. On Tuesday, after Purolator said the package had arrived at the sorting facility in Calgary, they revised their tracking to say the package was delayed due to weather.

Vendors and attendees from Calgary said the roads were great, and I could find no evidence of a weather issue on that route, especially not one that lasted three days.

Many people are experiencing delays as the couriers deal with overflow and increased demand. The Canada Post strike has screwed up shipping all over the country at the busiest time of year. But when people are already pissed off at a situation, don’t lie to them. It’s insulting.

The Purolator package arrived at my door Sunday afternoon. I’m glad the weather finally cleared up.

Mike at Pacific Music & Art cobbled a rush order of Highland Cow magnets and calendars so I would have them for the last two weekends. UPS said they’d be here by Friday but that morning, they revised their tracking to, you guessed it, Monday.

I had ordered enough replacement stock for two market weekends. I now need to move them in one. As of Saturday morning, I had three calendars left, and those went quickly.

Despite a slow start on Friday, it was an excellent weekend for sales. As I’ve now sold out of a few prints, I’m retiring some to make room for new paintings next year. Others I’ll wait to restock until just before the Calgary Expo. These are some of the immediate retirees but more are coming.
I never know which paintings will become popular and which ones won’t resonate with people. Or sometimes people will like an image, just not as a print to hang on their wall. The only way to find out is to create the painting, release it, and see what happens. When I retire an image in print, it means it will no longer be available on my site or at markets.
Sometimes, a print will become popular for a particular venue, like the Calgary Zoo. My Rockhopper Penguin does very well for them because they have a penguin habitat their visitors enjoy. But that print has never done well for me at markets or the Calgary Expo.
My Sasquatch painting is a popular licensed image for Pacific Music & Art, as they have customers all over the Pacific Northwest, BC, and Alaska. Harlequin Nature Graphics sells the image on T-shirts and has been a good seller for them for years. And while I have sold several prints of that image, it’s never been a bestseller for me.
Art Ink Print in Victoria has been professionally printing my work for years, but they’re a small business, too. They require a minimum order for each image, or it isn’t worth their time. If I continued to stock several different prints that don’t sell well for me, it would cost me more than I would make to keep them in stock to have them on hand for the one or two that might sell at each market or online.
Even when I no longer sell a print, my licensing clients may still offer the image on their products, and my wholesale customers may still order prints from me to sell to their customers. I just have to require the same minimum orders from them that my printer requires from me.

It’s tough to retire prints. I’ve spent many hours on each painting and get attached to each one. This little rat has always been one of my favourites. But when your art pays your bills, you’ve got to make tough choices.
My next-door neighbours, Noble Coin Rings out of Innisfail, are fun to work with. I was beside them last year for my two weekends at this show, and the organizers put us together for four weeks at this one. They also do the Calgary Expo.

We get along well; there are plenty of inside jokes, inappropriate comments and smartass exchanges. We’ve each requested the same spots for next year and the same neighbours. It would be hilariously perfect if we found ourselves next to each other at the Calgary Expo in the spring, but it’s unlikely at such a big show.

One of the things that has affected public perception of my work lately is how much AI has suddenly become a part of our lives, especially for creative professionals. Once these markets are over, I will focus on finishing two paintings before the end of the year. After that, however, I’m planning a video to talk about artists having to adapt to this new technology.

The first time somebody asked if my work was AI was at last year’s Banff Christmas Market, and it surprised me, though it probably shouldn’t have. For years, one of my lines while introducing my work has been, “No photos are part of my work. I only use them for reference.”

In the early days of my career, many assumed that if you were drawing or painting on a computer, you must be manipulating photos and using filter effects. I used to get my hackles up, bite back the bile, and explain that I don’t do that. Each painting begins on a blank digital canvas and involves many hours of brushwork.

Because enough people are asking at this market, I now must add, “No photos or AI are part of my work.”

A great part of the personality of the Banff Christmas Market is the atmosphere they’ve created. It’s like a little Christmas village, with decorations everywhere. Families can book photos with Santa; there’s live music in the courtyard, woodburning fires with blankets, plenty of seating, games, and entertainment. They’ve also set up several creative photo opportunities. And if all that wasn’t enough, trains fly by several times a day, gently shaking the building.

I’m not big on Christmas, but this atmosphere softens even my crusty Scrooge exterior.

Which brings me to the Banff Christmas Market Grinch.

This character roams the show in great makeup and costume, posing for photos. Whoever plays this role owns it and is doing a great job. He’s fun, delightfully nasty, and has a quick wit.

On Saturday, he was going from booth to booth in our part of the show, loudly cackling his insults, impossible to ignore. At some point, I had turned my back to my booth while talking with my neighbours, so I missed him walking up and looking at my artwork.

Suddenly, behind me, the Grinch loudly said, “Wow, AI has really come a long way.”

As if poked with a sharp stick, I spun on my heels and snapped, “Hey, these are NOT AI!”

My neighbours began laughing, and I immediately knew I’d been baited and caught. Like any good comedian who realizes he’s pressed the right button, he took it up a notch. He loudly announced to everybody within earshot, “Attention. I need everybody’s attention. I have an announcement. Pat-a-rique (deliberately mispronounced) is not using AI. Because Pat-a-rique is AN ARTISTE!”

The rest was a blur. I just stood there, blushing, laughing, and taking it. After a few weeks of too many people asking if my work is AI and calmly explaining through clenched teeth that it’s not, he had struck a very raw nerve.

You’re a mean one, Mr. Grinch. But damn, it was funny.

Shonna finally got to visit the market on Sunday. She approached my booth and asked, “Are these AI?”

It’s a good thing she’s cute.

There’s one more weekend to go. Though I have sold out of some prints, I still have a wide selection of metal, canvas and poster prints, magnets, postcard sets and coasters. And my calendars and Highland Cow magnets have finally arrived. I’m feeling much better and look forward to seeing more familiar faces and meeting new ones.

And if you hurry, you might just see a whimsical wildlife painter (it’s NOT AI!) revealing the tiniest bit of Christmas spirit.

Bah, Ho, Ho, Ho,
Patrick

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Banff Christmas Market and a Diamond Art Club Release

The weather outside was frightful last Friday and Saturday, but the Bow Valley avoided the worst of the big storm that rolled through Alberta on the weekend. Still, I have lived in this valley long enough to know that the 25 km stretch of highway between Canmore and Banff can quickly become treacherous.

Driving to the Banff Christmas Market last Friday morning was fine, but with the forecasted heavy snow, I brought an overnight bag just in case I needed to find a room at the inn. I drove home that night, but it wasn’t fun. The wind made for intermittent whiteout conditions, and finding where the road ended and the ditch began was a white-knuckle experience, as was making my exit into Canmore.

As snowplows had been out all night, the drive in on Saturday was better: icy but clear enough. The downside was the insecure, reckless over-compensators tailgating and passing in the hammer lane at 130 km/h. When many of those idiots inevitably hit the ditch, they unfortunately take others with them.

Slow down. Nobody thinks you’re cool.

The weather was likely partially responsible for slow sales on Friday. Thankfully, Saturday and Sunday were much better. Not the phenomenal sales from the first week, but still very good, similar to the two weekends I did last year, and I was happy with those.

As the storm passed, Saturday and Sunday became spectacular Canadian Rockies winter postcard days. I’ve lived here thirty years, and more than once this weekend, I stepped outside and still marvelled at how pretty it was. It was a festival atmosphere with live music and wood fires burning in the courtyard.

Thanks, and welcome to everybody who signed up for A Wilder View. And an even bigger appreciation for subscribers and collectors who came out to Banff just because you read about it here. There are often people I only see at the Calgary Expo each year who are now showing up at my booth in Banff at Christmas. When I offer the opportunity to sign up for my emails, the response is more often that they are already on the list.

Even more satisfying is how many tell me they enjoy the writing as much as the art. That’s nice to hear since I’ve sent more than my fair share of less-than-positive posts over the years when art-for-a-living sometimes gets frustrating. Thanks for sticking with me through those posts. Ultimately, it’s the warts and all that inspire my funny-looking animal paintings.

Occasionally, I’ll meet farmers or ranchers at my booth who generously offer to let me come and take photos of their critters. A couple who lives northeast of here have Clydesdales and a miniature donkey. I’ve long wanted to paint a donkey, and they shared some fun photos with me. Their property is right on the route I take to the cabin I rent with friends a few times a year, so I’m looking forward to stopping there in the spring. While I can always paint from stock photos, taking my own reference is often a big part of discovering the personality that’s part of my signature style.

And, of course, all the dogs who show up at the market are a big perk at this event. Some are just looking for a free handout and lose interest when they realize there are no cookies in my booth, but other dogs are happy to soak up the unlimited attention.
One of the dogs I get to see all month long is Tojo, who belongs to one of the staff. He’s a friendly Akita puppy with a stunning brindle fur pattern resembling urban camouflage. He’s got a wonderfully sweet temperament and loves the outdoor cold. Though provided with a comfortable bed and a safe, warm space outside, you can often find him happily sleeping on a pile of snow.
When he’s brought inside to warm up or for a wander, he visits the different booths and enjoys the pets and scratches we’re all happy to give. His face reminds me of a bear’s, which makes me want to paint him.

Everything is selling well, whether stickers, magnets, coasters, postcards, calendars or prints. The clear bestseller, however, is still that Highland Cow. I was happy to get my print resupply on Friday from Art Ink Print because I did indeed sell out of my initial stock this weekend. If you’re an artist looking for a great printer, I highly recommend them.

Contrary to my last post about letting the calendar supply run out, I’ve only got half a dozen left now, so I ordered more from Pacific Music & Art. It seemed silly not to restock a proven bestseller. I also restocked my ample supply of Highland Cow magnets, which also sold out this weekend.
Seriously, what is it with this painting? I don’t understand it, but as I said to Mike at Pacific, I won’t look a gift cow in the mouth.

My resupply should be here for the weekend, and I’m confident I’ll be good on stock for the two final weekends.

I won’t lie; I’m tired at the halfway point. In the four days in between each market, I’m drawing editorial cartoons for my newspaper clients, catching up on admin and bookkeeping, and trying to get a little rest before the next round.
Meeting people who enjoy my work and seeing those discover it for the first time is great. It’s fuel for the creative tank, a reminder, “Oh, yeah, THIS is why I’m doing it. These paintings make people happy.”

But it’s also incredibly draining for somebody like me. I am an unapologetic hermit most of the time, preferring to spend most of my time alone working at home. So, thirteen days of high-input interaction with lots of people is a double-edged sword.

However, every one of these markets is a necessary and valuable learning experience, and I come away from each with lessons that inform future events. Without talking to people in person, I wouldn’t know what they like, which paintings resonate with them, and why. I get inspired by these conversations and interactions and am gratefully humbled when I hear how much some people enjoy my funny-looking animals.

Here’s to another successful Banff Christmas Market, the second of four, as I prepare for the third. If you haven’t made it out yet, something to consider in the next couple of weeks.

______

Diamond Art Club is one of my favourite commercial licenses. A cross between paint-by-numbers and cross-stitch, it’s a unique product and a fun hobby with a dedicated fan base. I hear from plenty of people who have found my work because of diamond art kits.

Five different diamond art kits are available: my Otter, T-Rex, Sea Turtle, Snow Queen and their certified bestseller, my Smiling Tiger.

While I’ve known it was coming for quite some time, I can finally announce that Diamond Art Club has added my Two Wolves painting to their catalogue. As part of their Black Friday specials, it will be available on November 29th.

Here’s their official announcement from their Facebook page, with my own added text identifying the difference between my painting and the diamond art conversion.


For all of you Diamond Art Club fans, I hope you enjoy this new addition. And if you put one together, I’m always happy to see pics of the finished pieces.

Cheers,
Patrick

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A Scottish Cow in the Canadian Rockies

The first weekend of the Banff Christmas Market is over, and I am pleasantly surprised by how well it went. It was well organized, my booth location is ideal, and sales were phenomenal.

The Calgary Expo in April has long been an important event for me. It’s a fun show, and I enjoy it. But, including the Wednesday setup, it’s five very long days, and I’m usually wiped at the end. However, It’s often my biggest single payday of the year, so the effort is worth it.

Shonna texted me Sunday asking how things were going, and I replied, “These are Expo numbers.”

From revenue alone, I did better than Expo 2019 this weekend, and that was an excellent year. But sales figures for different venues are sometimes apples and oranges. With Expo, I must pay for a hotel for four nights, parking, electricity for my lights, and dining out. My booth for a four-day Expo also costs more than twice what this four-day weekend cost for the Banff Christmas Market.

For anyone considering these kinds of shows for your own business or side hustle, your expenses directly affect how successful a market really is—location matters. Banff is only a 25-minute commute, something many Canmore residents do for work every day.

Factoring in the significant reduction in expenses makes this past weekend the best sales I’ve ever had anywhere, including Expo. And I’ve got three more weekends to go, though the rest are three days, not four. Winter arrived on Monday with more snow in the forecast this week, so that might affect attendance, but I remain cautiously optimistic.

Hey, that’s a big step for me.
If things continue this way, the stock I ordered for all four weeks will be just about right, aside from two exceptions. I will likely sell out of calendars before the final weekend, and given that I can’t sell them online while the postal strike is on, I won’t order more. Once they’re gone, they’re gone.

However, the biggest surprise with this show is that some bestselling prints didn’t perform as well as they usually do, but other designs took up the slack. I keep detailed sales records, so when all four weekends are done, I’ll have a better idea if this is an anomaly or an overall difference with this audience at this venue.

Some advice for prospective vendors. Keep track of everything! You won’t remember a year down the road, and your sales records will inform your ordering choices.

By a considerable margin, this show’s bestseller has been my Highland Cow painting. I ordered what I thought would be enough for four weekends, but I will easily sell out by this coming Saturday. I have a long history and excellent relationship with Art Ink Print in Victoria, and as I wrote this post, they let me know that a rush order of Highland Cow prints are on the way by courier. So, even if I sell out of them this weekend, I’ll have new stock for the following two.

One of the best parts of this show is that it’s dog-friendly. I regularly come out from behind my table to meet four-legged attendees, as do other vendors.

A happy surprise this weekend is that former commission clients Jeremy and Jenny brought their two big dogs, Luna and Sally with them from Calgary for a weekend in Banff. I saw them at Expo this year, but I haven’t seen Luna since I delivered her painting a couple of years ago; it was a real treat. Since I have her painting on display in my booth as an example of my custom paintings, I took the opportunity for a picture.

It’s not a great photo, but you get the idea. Her expression did not disappoint.

An especially nice feature of this market was being able to bring replacement stock each day. On Sunday, instead of having to tear it all down and pack it home, I spent twenty minutes taking inventory, covered the booth and left, knowing it’ll be secure all week. This Friday, all I need to do is show up, put a few things back in place, and I’m ready for another weekend.

I hope to see more of you over the next three weeks at the Banff Christmas Market. I’m in the Banff Train Station building, sharing the grounds with 150 other vendors selling exciting and interesting things. It’s a festive atmosphere with cozy outdoor fires, food and drink, surrounded by some of the most beautiful scenery on the planet.

Cheers,
Patrick