Another Banff Christmas Market is in the books.
It was a very good year. Even with a couple of slow days where I wondered if it was going to be disappointing, the busy days more than made up for it. After thirteen long days over four weeks, my sales came in just a hair under last year’s excellent total, so I’m pleased the effort paid off.
I had an annoying sore throat after the first weekend, and I’m still not sure if it was a mild cold or simply all the talking I’m not used to in my day-to-day. Either way, I made it through without picking up one of the nastier viruses making the rounds.
The weather was mostly decent, although the final weekend was all over the map. We had a short cold snap earlier in the week and I had to plug in my block heater a couple of nights. Then Saturday night, with a Chinook wind in full force, it was +7C as I drove home to Canmore. By Sunday everything was a wet, sloppy mess, and the roads in town were still treacherous.
I talked to more people than I could possibly count over the past month. Long-time supporters who have followed my work for years stopped by to say hi or add to their collections. People I’ve never met were delighted to tell me they own one of my pieces from a vacation somewhere, and they were surprised to meet the artist who created it. I even met folks who’ve bought my art through Diamond Art Club, one of my licensing clients.
I also met locals who know my editorial cartoons and have seen my animal art, but had no idea the same person makes both. That’s not uncommon. People often recognize one or the other.
Mostly though, I met people who had never seen my work before and told me how unique it felt compared to everything else they were seeing. They asked great questions, and we ended up talking about what it’s like to be an artist right now, including how AI is affecting the art world. That part was prompted by the little signs I added to my booth this year and the video display showing my process.
And on that note, Merriam-Webster’s word of the year is slop: digital content of low quality that is produced (usually in quantity) by means of artificial intelligence.
As expected, my 2026 calendars sold out, as did several best-selling prints (thankfully not until the last weekend). In hindsight, I ordered well this year, and there’s nothing I would have changed. It’s a good feeling to know I didn’t leave much on the table.
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 Banff Christmas Market is still a busy one, but most of it is thankfully spent at home.
One thing about the market is the seasonal atmosphere. With the wood-burning fire pits outside, it feels like a proper Christmas village. People gather around with hot chocolate (or something stronger), eat from the food trucks, and soak it all in. A very convincing Santa makes the rounds and poses for photos, and all that’s missing is a few reindeer wandering around.
The consequence, though, is wood smoke. It gets into everything, and with the doors constantly opening and closing, I come home each day smelling like I’ve been camping. So every week I’m washing layers and winter coats, and after tear-down, my tablecloths, drapery, and booth covers all smell strongly of smoke. Six loads of laundry on Monday.
I enjoy the ambience of an airtight wood stove at the cabin I rent with friends, but outdoor fires don’t appeal to me anymore. I think it’s because I now associate the smell with forest fires. When this valley fills with smoke in the summer, it’s a reminder that evacuating is always a possibility.
Before I put all the booth hardware, displays, lights, and support kit away until April (Calgary Expo), I do a full inventory of what came home: stickers, magnets, coasters, prints, tote bags, metal and canvas prints. In a couple of months, when I start ordering for Expo, my future self will be grateful I did the work now.
Before the market, I had to remove a lot from my online store so I didn’t accidentally sell something online that had already sold at the market. This week I had to add it all back, though there’s a lot less than there was.
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.
Newspapers put their holiday issues to bed early this time of year, so I had to draw nine cartoons this week to accommodate that. The upside is that next week I should be able to take some time for me.
That means painting what I want to paint. And with nowhere to be, I’m planning to indulge in a couple of guilt-free afternoon naps.
I have a half-finished raven painting I’ve been missing, and I’d like to get back to it. I’ve also been itching to do another painting in the same spirit as my popular Peanuts image. I’m not trying to replicate its success, I just miss spending a few hours on a close-up of a grizzly bear face, which is still my favourite kind of face to paint.
After all the human interaction lately, all I want for Christmas is some quiet time at home without deadlines.
So yesterday, I spent some time in the grizzly folder of my photo archive and found the reference I needed to paint the image in my head. Even though I have photos from many years ago up until this year, the main reference I chose came from a bunch of photos my friend Serena at Discovery Wildlife Park generously shared with me the last time I was there this fall.
I’ve got more to say on this topic, but my biggest failure this year has been balancing business and creativity. When art pays the bills, it’s hard not to ask myself for each new painting, “Will this be popular? Will it sell? Should I paint something else?”
But I also know that if money becomes the prime metric for deciding what to paint, it will rob the life and personality from my work. So that’s what I’m up against in the coming year: how do I create art that I’m proud of and enjoy, while still thinking like a business owner?
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.
Though I’m emotionally and physically tired and selfishly clinging to some alone time right now, I don’t want to sound ungrateful for the past couple of months of craziness. I truly enjoyed meeting so many of you at the Banff Christmas Market, especially those of you who come every year. You say such nice things about my artwork, and while compliments are always a little uncomfortable, they do help quiet the demons that tell every artist their work is never good enough.
So thank you to all of you who found me at the booth, took time for a chat, and took a little bit of my work home with you. I hope you put it somewhere it can make you smile, and that you notice it most on the days you really need it. And if you bought it to give to somebody else, thanks for helping my work travel a little further.
However you spend the next couple of weeks, whether with family, friends, or taking a little time for yourself, I hope you enjoy it.
Merry Christmas, and I’ll see you in the new year.
Cheers,
Patrick
So he knew what he wanted when he asked me to paint 10-year-old Delta.
I’ve already got my next few 
But with a growing backlash against AI art, I’ve read that more shows and events are prohibiting anyone selling it. So, if the little signs create an opportunity for discussion and education, I’m happy to provide that.
Eventually, I got Photoshop and have been shackled to Adobe’s subscription model ever since. Remember when we were allowed to buy stuff, instead of renting it forever? Yeah, it’s a sore spot.
Over the past 15 years, I’ve had several chances to work with Pam and Wacom. I’ve done demos at Photoshop World, been part of webinars, and recorded videos for new products. Once, Wacom even hired me to demo their gear at a packed event in Calgary. I remember opening a shipment of their displays and thinking, “What have I gotten myself into?”
Here it is when brand new, 13 years ago, along with my 
Each of my poster prints is hand-signed, and the Zoo got the very first print of my latest Snowy Owl painting. It’s always a nice feeling to see a new piece in print for the first time.
They also produce the calendar many of you look forward to each year. That means I get to sell my own artist edition while the same calendar reaches stores I could never reach myself. Some of you on Vancouver Island have even told me you already picked up your 2026 calendar before I got mine.
If you’ve ever bought a magnet or coaster from me at the 
So yes, you have to spend money to make money, but placing large orders like these is a serious expense, often weeks or months ahead of actually selling anything. Anyone who’s ever kept retail inventory knows the feeling. It’s something I never get used to and it puts me on edge.
My last outstanding order, custom tote bags featuring my Christmas Bear painting, has shipped from Montreal by courier and is scheduled to arrive next week. Thankfully, that one’s unaffected and on track.
I’m also creating a project for 
Here in Canmore, we got our first snowfall last Saturday. Most of it melted in the valley by Sunday afternoon, but the mountains stayed white for a few days longer. If this isn’t the best view from any Safeway in Canada, it’s at least in the top three. Helps (a little) to soften the shock of the ridiculous grocery prices around here.
But I was biking my errands in shorts again yesterday and snapped this pic of Policeman’s Creek.
The cover features one of my favourite new paintings, The Grizzlies. Inside you’ll find a mix of new pieces and some perennial bestsellers. I’ll let you know when they’re available.
You’ve all heard plenty about the three-cat commission I’ve been working on in recent months, so I’m pleased to finally reveal the finished painting of Fable, Mortdecai, and Jack.
While Mortdecai has some white in him, they’re all still black cats. Both black and white animals, wild or domestic, bring their own difficulties, mostly because they’re not really either. Black fur is defined by the light it reflects, and white fur has similar challenges. It’s the shading that gives the features depth and form.
Tobi, my client, has a thing for ravens. A lot of the art in her home features them, and I can’t say I blame her. Shonna and I admired some striking raven pieces on her walls when we visited. Shonna likes ravens, too, and longtime followers might recall the aluminum print photo I gave her for her 50th birthday. You can see and 
Tobi has been following my work for quite some time. Along with other art in her collection, she owns many of my 11×14 poster prints and a few metal pieces. For this delivery, she had also ordered a custom 16×16 square-cropped metal print of my Winter Raven painting, along with the cat commission.
Commissions require a lot of back-and-forth. My clients need to be part of the process, otherwise I may not be able to deliver what they want. I’m fortunate that those who have hired me to paint their pets have almost all been engaged and enthusiastic. They dig up photos, share stories, and talk about personalities and quirks. All of it helps me do my best work.
Because I knew three cats in one painting would take more time than any other commission I’ve done, I shared work-in-progress shots with Tobi and with all of you. I don’t usually do that, but since she’s been following my work for so long, I knew she could tell the difference between sketches, roughs, and a finished piece.
Once the metal print arrived, this shot taken with a lot of light, I arranged to deliver it to Tobi’s home in Calgary. Shonna came along for the ride, and we enjoyed the reveal in person. We also wanted to meet the cats, of course, but in true feline fashion, one ran away, one watched us from up the stairs, and the third never showed. Our old cat Muse was like that, too. Great with us, no time for anyone else.
After wrapping up the three-cat commission I’ve been working on (and talking about) for the past couple of months, I needed a reset. Not a full break—but something without expectations, pressure, or deadlines. Just a chance to paint for myself again.
