
Most of us now use Google Maps or some GPS equivalent. You enter your start and end points and it tells you the most direct and efficient way to arrive at your destination, in the shortest time and in one piece. It can route you around construction and traffic incidents, tells you when to switch lanes, turn, and keep moving.
In the old days, we often had a stack of folding maps in the glove box. It wasn’t uncommon to find yourself pulled over on the side of some road with the map open wide enough to cover the driver and passenger side, trying to figure out how the highway you thought you were on suddenly became a rural route, then a dirt road, then a cart track, and hey look… we found a river.
On New Year’s Day, as I was planning the year ahead, I realized how nice it would be to have either of those options for an art-for-a-living career.
One of the toughest challenges in this profession is figuring out where to put limited time and energy. There are only so many hours in a day, and I’m already working every day of the week. If I want to add something, it means I have to let something else go.
The problem is that with limitless content, free advice, and options in every direction, there are a lot of things I could try to add variation and longevity to my career. There are also things that sound exciting to try, but take time and energy away from the practices that move the progress needle. But none of those things are a quick drive to the grocery store. Every option is a cross-country road trip, and you only know if it was the right route once you’ve invested the time and energy to get there.
I could start any number of creative projects or experiments, design and launch new products, but it might take a year or more to find out whether they were worth the time, effort and expense.
My focus this year is to continue to build my career, adapt to the ever-changing landscape, and try not to stretch myself too thin. That last part keeps tripping me up.
The newspaper industry isn’t what it used to be and has ongoing challenges, and though it’s not the largest part of my business anymore, it’s the only part that provides steady monthly income. I still have to draw six editorial cartoons each week.
Art licensing is where companies use my work on their products and pay me a royalty percentage. Just some examples include Diamond Art Club, Harlequin Nature Graphics, Pacific Music & Art and The Mountain. Royalty payments are subject to each company’s plans, vary according to the economy and season, and arrive quarterly, not always on time. So budgeting for that revenue is near impossible.
Pet portrait commissions pay as I finish them. Because of all the other work I need to get done, I only take on a handful of those each year and I’m booked up for 2026.
Shows like the Calgary Expo at the end of April or the just completed Banff Christmas Market are big paydays, but they also require big expense in the months leading up to them. I’m already working on Expo inventory planning, because I’ll need to start ordering next month.
Website sales come in waves, and wholesale orders hit at different times of year as gift shops and zoos prepare for their busy seasons.
Balancing all that, and finding the right mix to pay the bills while still growing the business, takes a lot of planning, with no guarantees.
And of course, I need to write regular posts like this one for A Wilder View, record and edit videos, reach out to new companies, and seek new opportunities, planting seeds for future growth.
I’ve often said, I spend more time marketing my work than creating it. That’s part of the profession and something every starry-eyed young artist needs to realize before choosing this career.
There are always unforeseen circumstances that can flatten tires at any point during the trip. The economy and the weather are two obvious ones. Then there ones you never see coming, like a pandemic and a president.
So most of New Year’s Day last week was spent with spreadsheets, Word files, and internet searches, mapping the route for the year ahead. Though AI art has been a detestable part of new technology, it would be hard to argue against how valuable ChatGPT has been as a researcher, virtual assistant, and editor.
By day’s end, I had created a document with clear boundaries on where to put my efforts this year. Regardless of whatever trends, shiny objects, or tempting tangents might pop up, I intend to keep that roadmap handy so that when I get distracted and lose my way, I can pull over, open the map, and remember where I want to go.
Cheers,
Patrick


Another Banff Christmas Market is in the books.
Highland Cow, Snow Queen, Otter, Sire, Kodiak Cub, Raven on White, and Winter Wolf were all popular again this year. Spa Day, one of my personal favourites, seemed to find its audience this year and was more popular than it has ever been. It ended up as my second best-seller after Highland Cow.
After the first weekend, I was disappointed that my latest Snowy Owl painting didn’t seem to resonate, but it was a slow burn. By the end of the market it was in the Top 10 out of the 40 paintings I had on offer, so I’ll gladly take that win.
The week after the
I’m an introvert, like a lot of artists I know. I’m most comfortable working alone in a quiet place, so after all the noise and interaction, plus an incredibly busy schedule for the past couple of months (when I was already running on fumes), it takes a toll.
Ending the year painting a grizzly bear face will hopefully help me take some first steps toward better perspective. None of us gets out of this alive, and I’m desperate to use my time better.

This past week, Shonna and I headed north to visit her Dad and family. It’s a seven-hour drive from here, and we haven’t been up there in quite some time. We planned these dates awhile ago, and thankfully both of our workloads were a little more manageable right now, with good weather for the trip.
Every time I take the camera out, I learn something new, usually by making a mistake. This time, I left my new DJI Action Pro 5 in the car, not wanting to keep everyone waiting. That was foolish, since this kind of trip is exactly what the camera is designed for. I could have clamped it to the windshield, pressed record, and left it running. Instead, I relied on my phone for short video clips.

None of the shots from the river are good enough for reference, but I never know where inspiration might come from. Seeing wildlife in the wild is always worth it.
Even without the river encounters, we enjoyed some friendly domestic critters. Shonna’s parents’ dog, Jetta, is a classic rural yard dog. Her job is to bark at strangers, but once she warmed up, we were fast friends. I like that her grey matches mine.
Shonna’s brother’s dog, Tess, is a bundle of energy with no slow setting. I’m surprised she sat still long enough for me to take a photo. Go ahead, try to take the puck. I dare you.
But the star of the show was their new kitten, Minnie. Already a people cat, she was affectionate, vocal, and had an intoxicating purr. We joked that they would have to check our bags before we left to be sure she wasn’t coming home with us.
Whenever I photograph dogs or cats, I want to paint them, and Minnie was especially photogenic. I now have some strong reference shots, though with commissions waiting and a list of wildlife paintings underway, I don’t know when I’ll get to them. That is why the idea of ever retiring feels ridiculous. There are too many animals to paint.
On the way home Wednesday, we stopped at the cabin I often rent with friends so I could finally show it to Shonna. I had checked ahead and the owners said we were welcome to drop by between guests. Shonna and the owners have heard plenty about each other, so the introduction was overdue.
I’ve been working on a commission of three cats, and it’s coming along well. The client has provided some valuable feedback on the images I’ve shared so far. I’ve also recorded a bunch of the process, written the video narrative, and I’m still working on that video and the painting itself.
I based this little fawn on reference I shot at 
People often ask what it means. If I’m that solitary dot in the middle, my best chance of connecting with others is through my artwork, represented by the bear claws. But just as important is the reverse, where nature, wildlife and the world around me deliver the inspiration to create more art.
I have been frustrated the past few years that it seems I can never get as much done as I would like to, still failing to find traction. I have too many ideas, too much ambition, and little time to do it all. As fiction writers need to aggressively edit and ‘kill their darlings’ to make for a better story, I must abandon some things to make progress on the ones that mean the most to me.
I haven’t painted anything in a month and needed to get back into the groove. These were supposed to be rougher sketches, but it’s difficult to stop once I get going. These are neither sketches nor finished paintings, but somewhere in the middle.
I’ve used a polar bear or two in cartoons about climate change. And when Kevin Costner was the parade marshal for the Calgary Stampede in 2022, I used my portrait of his Yellowstone character, John Dutton, in a cartoon.
The Calgary Herald currently runs my cartoons more than any other daily newspaper in Canada, and they’ve been publishing my work for more than twenty years. How often, depends on how the editor of the day feels about my work in general. Everyone has their favourite artists.
If you’re coming to the Calgary Expo, I’ll be chained to my booth from opening Thursday to closing on Sunday. I set it up yesterday, and I’m ready for the chaos. Come by and say Hello!
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 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.
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.
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.
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.
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.







“How long does it take you to paint one of these?”
The spark for this painting was reference photos I took at the
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.
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.
Deciding whether I like a piece or not takes time, but I’m pretty happy with how this turned out. I liked my
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.

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.
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.
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.

