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Banners and Bags

For years, I’ve been using the same vertical banners at the Calgary Expo, featuring my Smiling Tiger and Rat paintings.  While the old banners are still in good shape, they have my old website on them, www.cartoonink.com. And even though I rebranded to LaMontagne Art some time ago, I haven’t worried about the other address, because it will still take you to my site. I also know that most people aren’t looking at my banner and going to my site while standing right in front of me at my booth. In hindsight, it wasn’t necessary to ever include that info on the banner.

The banner stands I’ve used for years are made of heavy steel posts, cross beams and a base. They’ve done the job well, but they take extra time to set up and are awkward to load into an already packed car.
This year, I have replaced them with these retractable banner stands which are more compact and set up in seconds. While I could have gone with new images for both banners, I opted to keep the Smiling Tiger. It’s still one of my bestselling images, but more importantly, it’s part of my Calgary Expo booth and brand identity. People tell me they look for that banner. For the second image, my Rat painting is now retired, and I was happy to use my new Polar Plunge painting in its place. I think it fits this format well.

I had these printed at Vistaprint Canada and I’m pleased with how they turned out.

Shonna has been urging me to get tote bags for a long time, but I’ve never been enthused with the idea. There are many different products on which I could print my art, but that would mean buying, storing and transporting them as well. Having too many products gets expensive and complicated, and I wasn’t sure if tote bags would be the best investment.

At the Banff Christmas Market this year, I made a point of arriving early some days to check out other vendor booths. One vendor I know had her artwork on canvas tote bags and I was very impressed with the printing. She told me they sold well and I asked where she had them done. She generously shared the details for the Montreal company and said they were great to work with.
I created these designs for two of my bestselling paintings, and I am thrilled with how great they look. The print quality is better than I could have hoped, as is the construction and stitching. This vibrant printed bag is 100% polyester textured canvas, machine wash and dry, and will withstand everyday use while looking great. Each measures 16”X 13” X 3”.
I designed each bag as a wrap; the same image on both sides, with no text or advertising. I’ll have these two bestselling painting designs, my Otter and Smiling Tiger, available for this year’s Calgary Expo. I haven’t yet decided on how many I’ll bring, but they’ll retail for around $30.

Cheers,
Patrick

 

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The Ringleader

Some paintings come together easily. A reference photo may immediately inspire an idea, I’ll sit down and mock up sketches, and it will almost feel like the image creates itself.

This was NOT one of those paintings.

I’ve had more than a few frustrating experiences painting where the work didn’t seem to want to come together. I’ve beaten myself up about it, wrung my hands and thought, “Well, I used to know how to do this; I guess I don’t anymore.”

Eventually, I’ve made it through, and some of those paintings became bestsellers.
This painting has been something entirely different. Even though I had a clear idea of what I wanted it to look like, I couldn’t get it to feel right. It was inspired by a photo I took at the Calgary Zoo, and I even had the name of the piece before I painted the first brushstroke.

I came very close to calling this piece finished a couple of months ago. But I showed it to my artist friend Derek, who kindly told me what I already knew. It wasn’t working. The faces were laid out too uniformly, like a tic-tac-toe grid, and the personality wasn’t there.

So I went back to the beginning, discarding dozens of hours of work to start over again. The difference this time, however, was that I looked at it as one piece containing several characters rather than several characters I created separately and then assembled into one piece.
The first go round, I used a specific reference for each lemur I painted and drew them all individually. Even after I assembled them, I kept going back to the individual references for each, and it wasn’t easy to keep track of it all. I made it far too complicated.

When I started over, I abandoned the individual reference. I focused on the expressions and characters without worrying about making each look like a specific reference because I didn’t need it. Lemurs are lemurs; they don’t look all that different from each other. As long as the central character had the most personality, the others were the supporting cast, even though their details were still necessary.
The key to getting this piece back on track was to stop painting individual trees and just paint the forest. Even though this was a challenging painting, with a lot of redrawing and direction changes, I learned from the frustration. These kinds of lessons always contribute to better work in the future.

On Marc Maron’s WTF podcast this week, director James Mangold talked about lessons he has learned in filmmaking. He said that even though you need to start with a plan, if you hold it too tightly, you don’t leave any room for discovery in the process.

The finished piece still doesn’t quite match my original inspiration and vision. And while there are still the same nine lemurs as before, they’re more dynamic in their placement, different angles, placed higher and lower. There are more tails here and there, and I added hands for the ringleader as the central character.

But when I spend too much time with a painting, I can’t see it with fresh eyes anymore, so I don’t know if it’s any good.

What’s worse is that January and February are tough for me, as they are for many people. We’ve been enduring a period of bitter cold the past couple of weeks, and that always sucks the life out of me. I’ve forced myself to go for a few hikes and bundled-up bike rides to get out of the house and exercise, but it’s been a slog.

It’s also a time of year when I spend a lot of money on my business. From the final 50% booth installment for The Calgary Expo, the deposit for registering for the Banff Christmas Market, my first quarterly tax installment, paying for new promotional items, test prints for new products, plus restocking prints for anticipated spring client orders and Expo, and all the materials that go with that, it’s a part of self-employed stress I never get used to. It’s a maxim as old as time that you must spend money to make money, but nothing is guaranteed, so it’s always uncomfortable.

Finally, with the editorial cartoon side of my work, I must follow the deluge of bad news that breaks daily because he-who-shall-not-be-named continues his insane barrage of verbal and economic attacks on Canada. As much as I’d like to turn off the news to preserve my sanity, I can’t do that and still do my job.

All of this, aside from the 51st-state bullshit, is business as usual for this time of year. But when it piles on, it usually puts me in a pretty dark place.
Under these circumstances, my perception of how any finished piece looks is distorted. I have no idea how I feel about this painting and probably won’t for a while. I feel more relief that it’s finally over than satisfaction with the result.

I’ve done several paintings in my career where I’ve felt indifference for them upon completion but grew to love them over time. Maybe this will be one of those, but I have no way to know. Artists tend to put too much pressure on themselves and make more out of their work than they should, and I am no exception. Ultimately, it’s just a painting of some funny-looking lemurs, and I have spent enough time on it.

“Art is never finished, only abandoned.”

Nobody knows if Leonardo da Vinci really said it, but it’s an oft-repeated quote because of how much it resonates with artists, that there is always room for improvement, and perfection isn’t possible.

With that in mind, I’m moving on and will start a new painting in a day or two.

Cheers,
Patrick

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Collectors from Across the Pond

Rich and Jill have been coming to the Bow Valley from their home in the UK every year for over a decade. While I don’t remember our first encounter in 2010, I had delivered an out-of-stock print of my first wolf painting to them at the Two Wolves gallery in Canmore.

I miss that place. The owners gave my whimsical wildlife work a shot at the very beginning, when I had only painted a handful of them and knew nothing about this part of the business. (Hi, Andrea!)

During other trips, Rich and Jill bought my art prints in Banff at About Canada under the previous owners. In those days, I offered black matted giclée prints on consignment, which means I supplied them to the gallery, and they would pay me when they sold. These days, my wholesale customers buy my prints outright, and I no longer offer matted prints.

But Rich and Jill liked that look and still wanted the giclée prints in that same size. So, in recent years, they have kept up with new releases through A Wilder View. And before they come to Canada to ski, they place a special order for the prints they want to take home. They order in the fall so I have it ready when they get here in December or January. I provide the prints in a roll and they have them framed in the UK.

This year, Rich told me in November that they wanted some coasters and a special order print of Spa Day in the usual 11″ X14″ size. He joked, “We just bought a larger house, mainly so we had more wall space for your pictures.”

But he also said, “Ideally, we would get a large format of the grizzlies, but I guess that’s not finished yet.”
Up until then, the above work-in-progress image was all they had seen. I had shared it in August, along with an unfinished series of sketches. That they wanted to order the painting before they’d seen the finished work was flattering and a little frightening.

Even though there was no pressure, I suddenly wanted to have that print ready for them, especially since this was the first time they wanted larger than the usual size.

After the Christmas markets, I focused on The Grizzlies and finished it for New Year’s Day. Rich and Jill decided on an 18″ X24″ print, giving me three weeks before they arrived, which was plenty of time. This was the first time I’d seen the new painting in print and I was pleased. While I’m proud of my poster prints and Art Ink Print in Victoria does a great job, a giclée fine art print has a texture to the paper that often results in richer colours and enhances the detail. The photos here don’t do it justice.
I met them at a local brewery for a drink to deliver their order this weekend. We haven’t had time for anything more than a short exchange on previous deliveries due to weather or distancing during the pandemic, so it was nice to sit and chat with them.

With this most recent delivery, they now have 16 prints of their own, plus trivets, coasters and prints they’ve bought for friends. As a self-employed artist, there is no bigger compliment than somebody who enjoys my work that much.

I’m grateful for anyone who buys my art, whether it’s a sticker, magnet, coaster, calendar, print or commission. Still, there are a handful of collectors whose ongoing support is sometimes overwhelming. Hopefully, I have told each of you how much it’s appreciated.

Because I had a little more time to get to know them on Saturday evening, I asked if they had any requests for animals I hadn’t yet painted. Though they own several other animal paintings I’ve done, they said they’re happiest with the bears, and I assured them there’s no chance I will stop painting those anytime soon. But Rich also took the opportunity to say, with an implied wink and a nudge, that he’d really like to buy a copy of my book.

I laughed nervously and hung my head in shame.

Maybe next year, Rich. Maybe next year.

Sigh.

Cheers,
Patrick

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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 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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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

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Painting Timber

After seven years living in Banff, Shonna and I bought our modest townhouse condo in Canmore in 2001. We live in an end unit, which means only one neighbour. Anybody who has had the experience knows that whoever shares your walls has a direct impact on how you feel about your home.  Considerate neighbours are worth their weight in gold, and in an ideal world, you get what you give.

This brings me to Chris and Cindy, who rented the place next to us for the past eight years — the best neighbours we’ve ever had.

We didn’t socialize in each other’s homes, but we’d hang out in our shared driveway or backyard, drinking coffee and becoming friends. Chris was home all day like me, and in a bizarre twist of fate, he is also a digital cartoonist and animator, though not full-time. It was great to have somebody next door who spoke the same language.

About five years ago, in the middle of the day, I was walking back from taking the garbage to the dumpster and saw Chris sitting on his front step. Standing on the strip of grass beside his sidewalk was a large puppy.

As she saw me approach, she politely sat down, and that’s when I fell in love with Timber.
Cindy volunteered with the local SPCA shelter here. And though they had fostered another dog that eventually went to live with her parents in Calgary, they hadn’t found the right one for them until they met Timber.

She is what folks around here call a Morley mutt, named for the First Nations reserve just outside the mountains. They’re often strays or abandoned from the city, but many I’ve met have become the most friendly dogs around. Whether true or not, it’s a well-known joke around here that Canmore has more dogs than kids, and I love that about this town.

Chris and Cindy are doting dog parents, and Timber is their spoiled child. With two or three-hour walks each day and the best health and food she could ask for, that dog won the lottery. And so did they. She’s not a needy dog, doesn’t require your attention, and frankly, doesn’t tolerate it from many people. She’s not aggressive, just disinterested.

The best line I ever heard about her was from Cindy. “Timber is three cats in a dog’s body.”

Much to my welcome surprise, however, Timber likes Shonna and me, and the feeling is mutual. For Timber, that means she’ll tolerate the hugs, kisses and mauling for five minutes instead of no minutes. When she’d had enough, she’d go inside, leaving Chris and I out on the step with our coffee.

One of my favourite things was getting a text from Chris every day or two, with a photo of Timber sitting on the grass in front of our door, not hers, with the caption, “Dog on the lawn.”

I’d drop whatever I was doing, scurry down the two flights of stairs from my office, and open the door to a wagging tail, exclaiming, “Hi Baby!” or something like that, and then I’d maul and hug her and tell her she was pretty.

The running joke was only then would I offer a less than enthusiastic, “Oh, yeah…hi Chris.”

It was often the highlight of my day.

I think I only heard her bark three times in the years she lived next door. Two were playful; one was not.

Chris and I stood outside one night talking about a large black bear frequenting the neighbourhood. Timber suddenly started growling and let out a large bark at the fence next to our property. Knowing his dog, Chris guessed the bear was in the yard on the other side of the fence. We retreated into our homes.

Shonna and I often said if we ever heard Timber barking next door, we’d run over to check what was wrong. Thankfully, neither Chris nor Cindy ever fell down the well. (That’s a Lassie reference. Ask your grandparents.)

I have taken many pictures of Timber over the years and always planned to get to a painting. But as art is what I do for a living, I rarely have time for personal projects anymore. And with best-laid plans, I never got to it.

Life in this valley is ridiculously expensive, and when you’re paying a premium for rent, even the beauty of the Canadian Rockies can lose its lustre. Add to that a property management company that seemed to find any reason to target Chris and Cindy for the slightest infraction while letting others around here get away with everything; the day came when they’d had enough. Though we didn’t want to see them go, we couldn’t blame them.

Cindy and Chris bought a home in Calgary in the spring. Before they left, they hired me to paint a portrait of Timber in my style.

While they already liked my work and wanted to give me free rein, I asked for guidance, as with all my commission clients. Before long, I got the personal requests I like. Timber is always wearing a bandana; though she has many, they have a favourite. It has a faded hand-lettered label, and Chris sent me more reference pictures. Canmore dog tags are little hearts, whereas Calgary’s are rectangles. We opted not to put any writing on it, as it would be an unnecessary distraction.

Chris also wrote a long, sarcastic, entertaining email with hilarious details, telling me how many whiskers Timber has on each side of her muzzle, the exact Pantone colours I needed to match on different parts of her face, and other ridiculous technical specifics.

At some point in our many exchanges, I sent the following sketch with something like, “Done. Pay me.”
He printed and framed it and sent a photo of it hanging on their wall.

Because they knew I would undercut myself, they sent the first installment before I could uncomfortably ask for one. Their timeline was “sometime in the next five years.”

I wasn’t about to take advantage of their generosity, so I prioritized it as much as possible. I always want to give every client my best effort, but because I know this dog so well, I obsessed over this painting, probably for much longer than I needed to.
I sent the finished image, and they were thrilled, which made me doubly happy. Because they already had a shadowbox framed 18X24 canvas of my Wolf painting, they wanted Timber’s to match.
 
When it arrived, however, there was a slight blemish near the bottom of the canvas, a flaw that wasn’t on the image file. It was minor, but once you see that kind of thing, you never unsee it. While damage is rare, my printers have always been great with replacing problem prints. Still, the turnaround time meant I couldn’t deliver until the week before Christmas, as Shonna and I wouldn’t be able to get into Calgary together. We haven’t seen them since they moved.

I foolishly tried to repair the canvas with a gold paint pen, which probably worsened it. Without the materials or experience I’d need to fix it, I took it to my friend Derek Turcotte at Electric Grizzly Tattoo and asked if he could help. He’s an incredible airbrush artist.

Derek said he was willing to try. I assured him he couldn’t make it worse as I would have to replace it anyway.
I brought it to Derek’s house a couple of days later, and he matched the colour, finely sprayed the small area a few times, and saved the canvas. You can’t tell there was ever a problem, and you can still see my underlying brush strokes. I held the canvas while he painted with the airbrush, so we staged the above photo after the fact, knowing I’d want to write about it.

If you’re reading this, Derek, thanks again for your help, buddy. You’re awesome.
Of course, the best part of any commission is delivering it to the client, especially when it’s this personal. Shonna and I drove to Chris and Cindy’s place in Calgary last Saturday. Chris correctly advised that I leave the canvas in the car until after we saw Timber so it wouldn’t get damaged. We pulled up, and once out of the car, Chris let Timber loose on the front lawn. She was excited to see us and ran out for attention we were eager to give.

She was wearing the same bandanna.

They loved the painting, and we spent a great afternoon catching up and visiting. They also have Cindy’s parents’ dog now and she’s a real sweetheart. The two dogs get along great, and it’s nice that each has a buddy.

To her credit, Timber was very patient and accepted a lot more attention from us than she’d usually tolerate. Those old neighbours. So needy.

While we have a new neighbour who is considerate and quiet, it’s not the same without Chris, Cindy and Timber next door. We miss all three of them.

But people make mistakes. Theirs was telling us where they live now.

____
For more information about my custom pet portraits, please visit the Commissions page. Thanks!
____

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Bitter Blunders and Bedtime for Bears

Because I haven’t released a new painting in a while, I did not want to publish yet another post promising something new down the road. So, here’s a new piece: a weary-looking grizzly bear in the snow. I’m calling it Bedtime.

I had planned on sharing a different painting this week. Here’s why that changed.

Over the past twenty-plus years of my art career, both as a syndicated editorial cartoonist and a digital painter, there have been plenty of times when something I’ve drawn hasn’t worked out the way I had planned.

The beauty of digital drawing and painting is that it’s often easier to fix mistakes. I can create a new layer, play around and experiment; if I don’t like it, I delete it and try a different direction. Most creatives are familiar with happy accidents, something unexpected that improves an image. It happens all the time.

There’s always an element of discovery in any illustration or painting.

On the flip side, an image can sometimes become an exercise in frustration. Years ago, a bighorn sheep painting had me pulling out my hair. No matter what I did, I couldn’t get the curl of the horns to look right. They were either too flat, distorted, or just wrong, and every time I messed with them, I’d have to spend hours repainting the detailed texture I ruined.

It’s hardly a unique story. Every artist I know goes through this. For traditional artists who paint with oil, acrylic, watercolour or airbrush, it’s even worse. Sometimes, they try to fix something that isn’t working and get to a point where they’ve just ruined any chance of recovery. The canvas ends up in the trash, and they start over.

I began a painting of a group of Ring-tailed Lemurs months ago. I thought it would be finished this summer and again this week. I can’t begin to estimate how many hours I’ve spent on this painting. It has been one disappointment after another. But I finally got through the other work and deadlines holding up my progress and recently spent several mornings on it.

I was within what I thought was two or three hours of finishing, then realized I didn’t like it. That’s a hard truth to admit when I have invested so much time into a piece.

On my iPad, I took it to my buddy Derek at Electric Grizzly Tattoo. He’s a talented and skilled artist, and we sometimes ask each other for an unbiased eye. I can always count on his constructive criticism and willingness to help me produce a better piece of art. I do my best to return that generosity in kind, and when asked, offer my own thoughts on his paintings.

While Derek liked the individual faces, he agreed that the composition had problems. It was tough to hear, but it confirmed what I already knew.

After I got home, I spent a couple of hours messing with it, still trying to save it. But it was a gut-punch realization that I’d almost have to start from scratch. If I released the painting as is, knowing the obvious problems, even if others like it, I would hate it every time I looked at it.

So, while I’m not quite back at square one, it’s close. I’ve been sketching over the piece and trying new things, and I’m already much happier with the composition.

Reworking it, however, meant destroying what I had already painted. I must redo all the fur and hair, the detail in the muzzles and eyes, and add other elements that weren’t there before.

Whenever I finish the newer version, I will share more about this process, including what specifically I didn’t like and my thoughts on what I needed to change. I will also show you the piece I showed Derek and share why we both felt it didn’t work. But I don’t want to do that until I reveal the finished piece so you can see the comparison.

Anytime you do something creative, there’s a chance it won’t work. Authors have had to discard whole chapters and rehash plotlines when an editor has their way with a novel. Chefs have prepared complicated and ultimately inedible meals from experimental recipes. Filmmakers have spent years creating box office bombs.

As Benjamin Franklin said, “I didn’t fail the test; I just found 100 ways to do it wrong.”

If you’re not prepared to fail, you’ll never succeed.

So, I set the lemurs aside this week and began this bear piece on Tuesday as a palate cleanser before I jump back into the other works in progress I have yet to complete, including those lemurs.

Because when life hands you lemons, paint a grizzly bear.

That’s the saying, right?

Well, it works for me.

This Thursday, I’ll be one of 150 vendors setting up for the Banff Christmas Market. That evening, a locals’ preview event is already sold out. After that, from Friday to Sunday for the next four weeks, you’ll find me in my booth at the Banff Train Station, offering prints, calendars, coasters, magnets and stickers. Tickets are only available in advance on their website, and they go quickly, especially on Saturdays. I hope to see you there.

Thanks to so many of you who have purchased calendars already. I’ve been getting those orders out as soon as they come in, so if you’re waiting for yours, they’re on the way. If you still want one (or two, three, four…you get the idea), you can get them in the store while supplies last.

Cheers,
Patrick