
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.


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.