Tag: Canmore

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Lingering With the Local Wildlife

A couple of weeks ago, I biked a trail between a suburban neighbourhood and the Canmore Golf Course. It’s a popular pretty route in the trees, and I’ve taken it often. Rounding a turn, I encountered a large harem of elk lying down in the trees next to the path, with one very large bull elk standing among them.

Whether it’s females in the spring during calving season or the bulls in the fall during the rut, elk can be dangerous animals. Live here long enough, and you’ll likely have been charged by either just because you got too close or they didn’t like how you looked. While living in Banff, I’d hidden behind a car or ducked into a building more than once to avoid an elk. So has Shonna.

When I realized I was within the danger zone and too far in the middle of the herd, going forward was the same as going back. So, I maintained a steady pace, kept my head down and avoided eye contact with the bull, watching him in my peripheral vision. His head followed my course.

Once past them, I breathed easier and warned some people coming the other way. You can always tell the locals, especially the ones walking their dogs. A herd of elk? Let’s go the other way.
It is maddening to explain to a tourist that they are too close to an elk and, for their own safety, they should move away, only to have them dismiss you with a wave or a middle finger, saying, “Yeah, yeah, mind your own business.”

I wanted to take some photos; it just wasn’t safe in that area.

The following week, our yoga instructor sent me a photo she took on her phone of a big bull elk hanging around with his harem at the quarry recreation area on the other side of the valley from where we live.

So, whether it was that herd or another, I biked up there last week to look for them. It was a beautiful ride in the fall sunshine, but no elk. The next day, I tried again and came up empty.

On Sunday, after drawing cartoons and working on paintings, I decided to try once again. My route took me along a popular pretty trail beside the Bow River, with stunning views. Frequented by tourists and locals alike, the river trail is the result of flood mitigation many years ago. The path runs the top of an artificial berm between adjacent homes and the riverbed, which is mostly dry this time of year.

As I crested the berm, I noticed an unusual number of people stopped on the path, looking into the riverbed. Sure enough, there was a large harem of elk, complete with a majestic-looking bull. Because they were spread out on the riverbed and in the trees on the opposite bank, a fair guess would be about thirty cows and calves in the herd, erring on the low side.
It was an ideal situation for wildlife watching because people could look as long as they wanted and take pictures, and nobody was in danger. I expected somebody might foolishly climb down the bank to get closer, but fortunately, no one did.

From a photography perspective, the conditions were not good. The bright afternoon sun, lower in the cloudless sky this time of year, was directly across from me. I was shooting handheld at full zoom at 300mm. I probably should have gone with a higher shutter speed, but I often get that wrong. I’m only keeping a dozen of the hundreds of photos I took. While none are suitable for photo reference, I enjoyed the experience, especially taking pics of this impressive fellow.
I’ve lived here for almost thirty years and still love seeing wildlife, even the common sightings of deer, elk and bighorn sheep. Parking the bike off the path for a couple of hours, snapping photos, listening to a bugling bull, and watching a herd of elk on a beautiful warm fall day in the mountains was time well spent.

Cheers,
Patrick

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A Long Line of Local Cartoons

I’ve been a nationally syndicated editorial cartoonist for more than two decades, and my work appears in daily and weekly newspapers across Canada.  But longer than that, I’ve also been the local cartoonist for the Rocky Mountain Outlook since it first launched in 2001. The Outlook is the weekly community newspaper for Lake Louise, Banff, Canmore, Exshaw, the MD of Bighorn and Stoney Nakoda.

So, in addition to the five or six syndicated cartoons I send to several publications each week, I draw one local cartoon.

I’m unable to enter the National Newspaper Awards because I don’t work for a daily newspaper, and therefore can’t be sponsored by one. In an age where very few newspapers have their own cartoonist, it’s a rule that doesn’t make much sense anymore, if it ever did. But, each year, the Outlook submits my cartoons to the Canadian Community Newspaper Awards. My work recently won First and Third place in the Local Cartoon category in the Outlook’s publication class. In order, here are those cartoons.

While having coffee with my editor last week, he pointed out something I hadn’t considered. The accountant, Donna, had been there since day one but retired earlier this year. One of the reporters, Cathy Ellis, has also been there since the very beginning, but she once took a year off.

I’m in no way responsible for assembling the Outlook each week. I don’t put in the long investigative journalism hours that make it a consistent award-winning community newspaper. I don’t sell the ads or design the layout. I don’t do any of the back-end that keeps it going in an increasingly challenging industry. I only spend a few hours each week drawing one cartoon for the editorial page.

And yet, it appears that I’m the only person who has been a part of every issue of the Rocky Mountain Outlook for the past 22 years, having never missed a week. While my name and work might be familiar to many locals, most don’t know who I am.

Wait, am I the phantom of the Outlook? Damn, that could have been a good cartoon for the 20th anniversary, too. But here’s the one I drew for that a couple of years ago. The signature comment refers to one of the founders and first editor of the Outlook, without whom I might never have become a full-time artist. She encouraged me to self-syndicate at a time when I didn’t even know what that meant.

I enjoy the Outlook cartoon because it’s almost always about local issues, which often means you must live here to understand them.

A former Canmore mayor once joked he was disappointed I hadn’t drawn a cartoon of him. I told him that was probably a good thing, but if it had been that important to him, he should have embezzled some money or participated in some other scandal. On the other side of that, a reporter once told me that a former Banff mayor was thoroughly irritated when I drew a caricature of him in a cartoon. So, be careful what you wish for.

I’ve drawn more than a few controversial cartoons over the years, more than one prompting angry calls or emails to my editor or publisher. But contrary to what many think, the cartoon spot is not my private domain, and I can’t draw whatever I want. No cartoon appears on the page without my editor’s approval.

Each week, usually on a Monday, I email or call and ask what they’re working on. The Outlook publishes on Thursdays, so I’ve got to have my contribution in by Wednesday morning at the latest.


Ideally, the cartoon goes with the editorial beneath it, but when that doesn’t work, it often comments on a prominent story in that issue. Sometimes, it’s general or seasonal, on holidays like Halloween or Christmas, or a recurring reminder about bear and elk safety in the spring and fall. Annual local events like Melissa’s Road Race in Banff or the Canmore Folk Fest are always good topics.

This week, my editor is on vacation, so the interim editor told me the editorial would be about the large number of Canadian Community Newspaper Awards and Alberta Weekly Newspaper Awards the Outlook won recently. My initial response was that I couldn’t very well draw a cartoon about awards I won. Talk about self-serving.

But on reconsideration, I decided to have fun with it, and took a shot at myself. And I’ll find any excuse to draw a bear. Here’s this week’s Rocky Mountain Outlook cartoon.

Cheers,
Patrick

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The People That You Meet

While the warm weather is here, I try to be on the bike at least once a day, which means any excuse for an errand is welcome. One loaf of bread? Sure, I’ll pick that up, but I’ll take the long route and turn it into an hour ride. Even though we’ve had our e-bikes for about a year now, I turn off the pedal assist most of the time to get some daily exercise, which turns it into a regular, but heavier, fat bike. But the assist/throttle is handy when starting from a traffic light or biking up a steep hill with groceries on board.

While biking along the Bow River trail in town today, I got a call from a woman visiting from Edmonton, asking where in Canmore she could find my work. I told her prints were available at Art Country Canada on Main Street, and she said she was right near there. She confessed that her 10-year-old daughter was smitten with my animals as they had seen them and bought the Smiling Tiger at the Calgary Zoo on Wednesday.
While I can’t usually drop everything to go downtown to the gallery, I was already out and about and only a few minutes away, so she was pleased when I offered to meet them there. I showed them the canvases and available prints, explained a bit about the work and was happy to answer their questions about digital painting.
They left with another print of my Two Wolves painting (now on reorder) and four of Pacific Music & Art’s art cards.

I’m grateful that anybody buys my work, especially those who’ve done so for years, but it felt good to express that appreciation in person to somebody who has just discovered it. Of course, I suggested they subscribe to A Wilder View to keep up with new work and behind the scenes stuff.  So if you’re reading this, Sandy and Julianna, it was nice to meet you and thanks again for supporting local Alberta art.

Cheers,
Patrick
 

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Fire and Blowing Smoke


Canmore sits in a narrow valley framed on both sides by tall peaks. There are mountains everywhere you look.

As I write this, however, the smoke here is so thick that I can’t see any.

The Bow Valley becomes a bottleneck; the wind usually comes from the west, bringing the warm Chinooks in winter. So if the B.C. interior is on fire, we often get their smoke. Some summers, it’s a light haze with a faint campfire smell. But when it’s bad, we can’t open our windows. That’s tough to take when it’s 30 degrees Celsius, often at the peak of forest fire season.

This smoke has come from the north and east.

Alberta has fire activity each year, often in the northern part of the province, but in dry conditions, fires can pop up anywhere.

My wife grew up in a little town called Fox Creek. We usually have to tell people where it is, a 2.5-hour drive northwest of Edmonton. But the town has made headlines this month for the large fire that forced its evacuation almost two weeks ago.

Several towns and communities in northern Alberta have been evacuated as forest fire season started like a bomb this year and way too early. Shonna’s father and stepmother have evacuated, as have family and friends.

Until you’ve been told to pack quickly and get out of your home, you can’t understand the stress of it.

Ten years ago, we evacuated our condo for a once-in-a-lifetime (hopefully) flood and rain event. It caused a lot of damage to Canmore, Exshaw, High River and Calgary, among other municipalities. We were fortunate to return to our home as we left it after only three days. Unfortunately, I have friends who weren’t so lucky; they were out for weeks and months.

Before 2013, if you suggested an evacuation-level threat around here, most people would have assumed fire.
Even with that small level of experience, I can’t imagine the stress these recent fire evacuees are enduring. Two weeks out of your home, watching the fires on the news as they get closer, often from hours away in shelters or homes in unfamiliar communities, not knowing when or if you’ll be able to return.

Firefighters from all over Canada and the U.S. have arrived to help, Canadian Armed Forces members have been deployed, and volunteers and homeowners are working in challenging situations to save homes, towns and livelihoods.

From the B.C. Wildfire Service, “Most wildfires in B.C. are started by lightning strikes. When lightning strikes an object it can release enough heat to ignite a tree or other fuels.”

“The most important thing about human-caused wildfires is that they are preventable. The easiest way to fight a wildfire is to prevent it from starting. Humans start wildfires in several ways, either by accident or intentionally. For example: open burning, vehicle and engine use, industrial activity, fireworks, sky-lanterns, outdoor flame lighting, discarding burning items (cigarettes), arson.” 

Wildfires are destructive enough. But what bothers me most is how so many use these disasters to further their agendas, political or otherwise.

One of the big reasons I left social media was the overabundance of speculation and conspiracy theories that pollute every situation.

While these fires are raging, Alberta is in a provincial election. It’s part of my job to draw editorial cartoons on these issues, so I must follow this emotionally charged right vs. left conflict.
Some supporters of BOTH political parties accuse the other of deliberately starting these fires to win votes. People in the energy sector are accusing environmentalists of starting fires to destroy the oil patch. Climate change activists use the fires to trumpet their agendas, and deniers share cherry-picked links to debunk them.

Political candidates are falling all over themselves to look serious,  compassionate and concerned in front of any camera they can find while accusing their opponents of grandstanding and opportunism for the same behaviour.

Meanwhile, everybody else shares these links, videos, and photos so they can feel like they’re important or part of the story.

Clearly, we learned nothing from the pandemic.
Amid all this noise, people out of their homes haven’t had a good night’s sleep in weeks, they’re unable to work, their kids are out of school, and whatever problems they already had are compounded. They’re scared, vulnerable, and feeling helpless. Their world is falling apart, and they can do nothing about it.

Rather than provide solace, online armchair quarterbacking and political theories only add to their stress.

Everybody knows life is more important than possessions. But it provides no comfort to tell a senior who worked their whole lives for the things that symbolize their safety and security that they can always replace it. Unless you’re physically helping them rebuild their homes and replace their furniture, dishes, clothing, vehicles, electronics, and memories, telling them ‘it’s just stuff’ accomplishes one thing.

It proves you’re an asshole.

If your dinner on the stove suddenly ignites, you don’t grab your phone and record a TikTok video. You don’t check for appliance recalls or dissect the political leanings of the CEO of the company that made the frying pan. You don’t share a Facebook post that the timing of this kitchen fire seems awfully suspicious since you usually don’t eat dinner until later. You don’t start a Tweet thread that PETA has been sabotaging chicken feed at the hatchery to make poultry catch fire more easily.

And you certainly don’t pour gasoline on it.

First, you put out the fire.

Everything else can wait.

____
©Patrick LaMontagne 2023

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Bugle Boy

Whenever I’ve gone to Ucluelet on Vancouver Island, I’ve walked down a large staircase to the government dock to take photos of sea lions. To locals, they’re unremarkable, even a nuisance. While I’m happily snapping photos, those working on the nearby fishing boats are likely rolling their eyes at this silly tourist.

For Banff and Canmore locals, elk are like those sea lions. We see them all the time. It can be a herd on a soccer field or a handful walking through an intersection, holding up commuter traffic.

Locals shake their heads and sigh, “come on, hurry up,” while tourists lose their minds trying to grab a photo.

When I first moved to Banff, seeing these big animals all over the place was fantastic. Thirty years later, I’m more than used to them. Last week, I saw several hanging out next to an overpass on the secondary highway. When a herd of elk suddenly decides the grass is greener on the other side of the road, it’s a hazard.

I sent Shonna a text to warn her, as she’d likely take that route home later in the dark.

A little while ago, my next-door neighbour, Chris, told me a herd was hanging out in the ballpark next to our condo complex. He knows I’m always on the lookout for reference photo opportunities. I thanked him, but I was busy, so I asked, “any bulls?”

There weren’t, so I kept working. I have plenty of cow pictures.

That’s how common they are around here.

A local urban legend tells of a tourist who tried to put their child on the back of one for a photo. I’ve never met anyone who actually saw this, it has always been a friend of a friend, but if there’s any truth to it, it wouldn’t shock me.

Everyone around here has seen someone get too close to an elk for a close-up photo, especially in Banff.  Worse, they’ll often attempt a selfie, putting their back to the animal. More than once, I’ve warned somebody that it was a terrible idea, and the response is usually, ‘mind your own business’ or a four-letter version of the same sentiment. Many seem to think ‘national park’ translates to ‘petting zoo.’

When you have to warn people not to get out of their cars to take photos of grizzly bears, it’s not surprising they have even less respect for what might seem like a bigger version of a deer.

Elk are incredibly unpredictable, especially during spring calving and fall Rut. It’s not just the males with the big racks but the cows protecting their young. Or one could decide to charge you for no reason, something many around here have experienced, including Shonna and me.

The only thing to do is duck into any available open door or put a car or obstacle between you, and hope the elk moves on. A hoof to the head is guaranteed to ruin your day.

I remember walking home on Banff Avenue from a night out at the bar in the late 90s. A raised lawn in front of an apartment building put the grass about hip level. I couldn’t see the large bull elk lying on the grass until I walked past the fir tree hiding him. By the time I realized he was there, I could have reached out and booped him on the nose.

Thankfully, having had a few drinks, I didn’t jump and startle him but kept walking, the whole time thinking, “don’t get up, don’t get up, don’t get up.”

A sobering experience, if there ever was one.

Their popularity with visitors is why the third whimsical wildlife painting I ever did was an elk in 2009. It did OK but was never a bestseller. And frankly, it’s among a handful of paintings I’ve done that I genuinely don’t like. I made poor composition choices, and the rack was only suggested.

Having painted more than 100 pieces since then, I’ve learned a lot from my early mistakes. People want to see that rack on the bull elk, and I don’t blame them. It’s taken me more than ten years to try it again.

Many don’t realize that bulls grow and lose their racks each year. As a result, it’s not uncommon to find shed antlers around here, though removing them from provincial and national parks is illegal, a crime that wardens will prosecute with substantial fines.

Ironic that rather than take the reference for this piece in my own backyard, I took the pics at Discovery Wildlife Park in the fall. Their bull, Donald, was bugling away, inspiring this composition I hadn’t considered, allowing me to paint the whole rack.

Males bugle to attract females to their harem and to warn other bulls. Even though Donald doesn’t need to worry about competition, he still shows off his pipes in the fall.

While it’s not a common experience near our place in Canmore, I used to love hearing the bulls bugle when we lived in Banff. It’s a beautiful sound to hear in the mountains. I’d put it up there with wolves howling, though I’m sure many locals would disagree with me. But then, I Iove the sound of coyotes yipping away at night, too.

This video doesn’t do the live experience justice, but here’s some bugling for you. Hope you like the painting.

Cheers,
Patrick

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Blame the rider, not the e-bike

The following is an opinion piece I wrote for the local newspaper, The Rocky Mountain Outlook. I’ve been their cartoonist since its beginning in 2001 and I’ve never missed an issue. This busy tourist-town community is currently involved in a heated conversation surrounding transportation infrastructure. Many municipalities are dealing with these same growing pains, or soon will be.In June last year, my wife and I stopped at a Yield sign in Calgary. A woman ran a red light and collided with another vehicle, sending it over the curb into our car.

We walked away, but the car was written off with an unreasonably low settlement from our insurance company. With supply chain issues, ridiculous prices, and questionable auto dealership ethics, we haven’t yet found a replacement, opting to share one car until we do.

Having lived in the Bow Valley for thirty years, we bought electric bikes from a local business.

Biking home one afternoon with a fender cargo crate full of groceries and an equally loaded backpack, I rode up the hill beyond the Hwy 1 underpass, headed for the lower Cougar Creek bridge. Spread across the path were a half dozen pre-teen boys on their bikes.

I rang my bell several times and finally squeezed by on the left at about jogging speed. As I passed, one of the boys yelled at me, inches from my face, “CHEATER!”

Startled, I pulled left and caught the edge of the pavement, crashing hard to the ground.

Later, I could fix the bent brakes, light and fender. However, the wrenched shoulder, bruises and scrapes on my arms and legs took longer to heal. While I had loud, angry words for the kid, we’ve all made stupid choices at that age.

Many ill feelings about e-bikes seem to revolve around what some think, but what that kid said. Some see e-bikes as cheating and resent that if they must strain to climb that hill on a bike, then everybody should.

Canmore and Banff want fewer vehicles on the road. While paid parking seems like a money grab, people will find other alternatives if it becomes more expensive and inconvenient to take your car.

For many locals, e-bikes aren’t luxuries. They’re transportation.

This isn’t Saskatchewan. We live in a community with significant elevation gain on either side of the valley. At the end of a long workday, perhaps after running errands, heading up to Three Sisters, Peaks of Grassi, Eagle Terrace, or Cougar Creek on a traditional bike is an ordeal. Add in the summer heat, torrential rain, or a chinook wind, and it becomes downright insulting.

If your bike commute to work is 15 minutes up a hill or with a headwind, it won’t be long before deodorant fails you. How much will a tourist enjoy their crisp cool green salad if delivered by a foul-smelling sweaty server?

I’m in my early fifties, physically fit, with no mobility or health issues. But I have friends with failing joints, arthritis, and other age-related ailments. E-bikes allow people who aren’t hardcore athletes to navigate our community without forcing them to buy a car, take the bus, or walk everywhere. People don’t have the time, not when many work long hours to afford to live here.

I’ve been an avid trail walker for years. I’ve been startled and grazed by fast-moving cyclists silently passing within inches. It is inappropriate to go fast on a busy trail on any kind of bike.

Canada has capped e-bike assist speeds at 32 km/h.

With a full backpack and rear cargo crate, you can bet I’m using full assist while biking up Benchlands Trail on my way home from the grocery store. That’s not about speed but help with weight and elevation.

When I need to share a road with vehicles, many riding my fender while I try to navigate the 1A roundabout or drive through Spring Creek, maintaining 30 km/h is essential for my safety.

We bought reflective vests, helmets, bright front and rear lights, and the loudest horn available on the market for when the bell isn’t enough.

Drivers don’t want e-bikes on the roads, pedestrians don’t want them on the trails, and both resent anybody who uses one.

On weekends, we’ve used them to tour around town. We slow down, give warnings, and yield to oncoming bikes and pedestrians. And still, we get flack. E-bikes are new, making them an easy target because some people don’t want to share.

Trail use requires compromise, and most people around here get that. We’re an active community; when we’re not walking, we’re biking or driving. Most often, when approaching another trail user, I thumb the bell, and the person moves to the side, saying thank you as I pass; at the same time, I’m offering my thanks for their courtesy. It’s not complicated.

Pedestrians routinely walk three abreast, forcing others into the rough to go around them, or they walk into a crosswalk without looking, comfortable in their right-of-way. Some wear earbuds, so they don’t even hear the bell of an approaching cyclist, but they still get angry when they’re surprised by one.

Many cyclists don’t wear helmets, have no lights or reflectors, fail to signal, and weave in and out of traffic, jumping from sidewalk to road and back without warning.

Vehicle drivers speed through school zones, fail to obey stop signs and traffic lights, cut people off, tailgate, and make other aggressive moves.

The modes of transportation aren’t the problem; it’s a lack of empathy for those sharing the route.

There are indeed inconsiderate e-bike riders on the trails. They’re the same people who text and drive, take two parking spots at the grocery store, talk in a movie theatre, fail to pick up after their off-leash dog and run a red light destroying somebody else’s car.

Bad apples will always draw the most attention, and it’s convenient to blame their e-bike if they happen to be riding one. There’s a guy with a loud aftermarket muffler who races down my street, his bass stereo cranked so loud I can hear it through my closed windows. Should I blame the truck?

Vehicle congestion is a problem, but you can’t simply remove cars from the roads and expect the people in them to disappear. They still need to commute, run errands, and recreate.

Our trails and roads are for all of us, and compromise is a skill that requires practice. Everybody wants problems solved, so long as they don’t have to change.
____
©Patrick LaMontagne 2023

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Mountain Made Market – July 30th


It’s that time again, another long weekend Mountain Made Market this Saturday at the Civic Centre, downtown Canmore. There will be 25 vendors inside and out, specialty foods, arts & crafts and live music. The Canmore Folk Fest also returns this weekend, so downtown will be a hopping place. With Main Street closed for the summer to motor vehicles, there’s plenty of room to move about, see the sights and enjoy the atmosphere.

As I don’t do the regular market circuit, I haven’t got a big tent, so you’ll find me just inside The Civic Centre in the main foyer. I’ll have plenty of prints, including the latest releases, 2023 calendars, coasters, magnets, aluminum art, canvas, stickers and more. So come on down and support local art and artists!

Hope to see you there.

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Swimming Upstream

Here’s a little duckling I finished painting this morning. The duckling itself wasn’t difficult, but the water certainly was. Ironic that I began this year with a commission piece where water was also the hardest part of that painting. There will always be room for improvement in any artistic pursuit, so I welcome these unexpected challenges. The work might become boring without them.

When I first began creating digital art more than 20 years ago, there was a common misconception that if you used a computer, then the computer was doing all the work. Press a few buttons, apply a filter or two and anybody can do it. There was also a ‘look’ to a lot of digital art. It was far too smooth, with a blurry airbrushed look, and it all looked the same. Plenty of amateur artists still make this mistake when they get started. After hearing more than enough of this (anything but constructive) criticism, I worked hard to make my work look more like traditional acrylic or oil textures. That effort paid off because I developed a textured brush style evident in all of my work today. People are still surprised to find out my medium of choice and will often say that it doesn’t look digital.

For the water in this painting, however, I had to go backwards, and paint with that smooth, airbrushed look I have deliberately avoided for so many years. Texture in the water would not only have looked wrong, it would have distracted from the subject of the piece. It’s the contrast between the detailed hair-like feathers of our little friend and the water in which he’s swimming that makes the duck stand out.

This is the final cropped composition for this painting, but I painted more water than you see here. As most of my paintings end up on licensed products, I painted more of the background to allow for different Pacific Music and Art templates. On some of my older pieces, I’ve had to repaint entire sections to accommodate items like coffee mugs and different-sized aluminum prints.

These days, I keep that in mind while painting a piece. It means more work that most people won’t see but less of a headache when I format the painting for more than a dozen different items in their catalogue. Art (and artists) must be flexible when the work is destined for commercial products.
I took the reference for this painting four years ago from the boardwalk that winds through the Policeman’s Creek wetlands here in Canmore. Easily accessible for people of all fitness levels, it’s located in the middle of town and might as well be an urban park. It’s a pretty walk, a nice shortcut from where we live to downtown Canmore, and preferable to walking on the sidewalk of a busy street.

You might think I’d be happier taking photos of bears, wolves, eagles or other more exciting animals, but I’m just as content to spend an hour chasing around a family of ducks with my camera. You never know what critter might end up in a painting.

Only a couple of days ago, I realized just how few paintings I’ve completed this year. I painted the commission of Santé in February and finished my elephant painting in March. In addition, I’ve painted a couple of burrowing owls that are part of a larger piece, but this duckling is only the third finished painting, and the year is almost half over.

Considering I usually produce 10 to 15 pieces each year, I’m well behind where I’d like to be. Of course, one could argue quality vs. quantity, but as this work is a big part of how I make my living, I try to balance them.
The reason for fewer paintings is no mystery. Despite the dramatic decline in the newspaper industry, it’s still a big chunk of my income, and I’m unable to put off or set aside my daily editorial cartoon deadlines. As a result, those take priority every day and painting time is often sacrificed for the cartoons.

On the animal art side of things, I’ve been more occupied this year creating new products, filling and delivering print orders, planning and attending Expo and more local markets, all things that have been on hold the past couple of years. I’m not complaining that I have more sales and increased opportunities to put more work into the world, but it illustrates that art for a living is an illusion.

I don’t spend as much time creating the work as I do promoting and selling the work.

We all struggle with finding enough time to get it all done, whatever ‘it’ is, and most often fail in the attempt. Unfortunately, knowing the solution is simple doesn’t make it any easier.

Saying ‘No’ a lot more often than ‘Yes’ to requests and demands goes against most of our instincts to be friendly, help people out, and put others’ needs ahead of ours. But when it means sacrificing what is most important to us, whether time with our family, the pursuit of hobbies, recharging and relaxing, or time to paint more funny-looking animals, nobody else will make that time for us.

These paintings are a lot of work, but it’s work that I love a great deal, so it makes sense that I’d want to spend more time doing it. I’ll try to remember that for the second half of this year.

Cheers,
Patrick

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Last Minute Mountain Made Market

Last week’s Mountain Made Christmas Market was fun. Saturday was steady all day, but it was quiet on Sunday, likely a consequence of the Grey Cup and a big dump of snow Saturday night. However, I did pretty well with sales for the whole weekend, and I enjoyed introducing new people to my work.

Between the market in November and the one last weekend, I’ve got a lot of new subscribers to A Wilder View, so welcome to all of you. The calendar/sticker raffle winner was Karen from right here in Canmore.

I dropped the prize off on her doorstep, and here’s an excerpt from the email I received later that evening….”I had a 12 hour day at (omitted), and to come home to such a delightful surprise just absolutely made all the frustrations go away!  Thank you so much for the beautiful calendar and stickers!   You do such amazing work, and I will have a smile on my face every time I look at the pictures/stickers!”

It may come as a surprise to many of you that this here traditional Grinch has been spreading Christmas cheer. I hope this doesn’t become a habit.

I would especially like to thank those of you who drove out from Calgary and Cochrane to say Hello and add to your collections. I only wish I’d had more time to chat with you, considering both of you have been following my work for years, and I was genuinely pleased to finally meet you in person.

There’s one more kick at the can this coming Saturday. This Last Minute Mountain Made Christmas Market is only one day from 10-4 at The Civic Centre downtown Canmore. I’ve got coasters, magnets, aluminum art, canvas, poster prints and calendars available, and there will be plenty of other vendors there for your last-minute shopping.

So if you’re in the neighbourhood, stop by and see me and my funny-looking animals.

Cheers,
Patrick

 

 

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Another Mountain Made Christmas Market

With the well-publicized shipping and supply chain delays made worse by the roads damaged by floods in B.C., I’ve had my fingers crossed for a resupply order from Pacific Music & Art. Having sold out of calendars at the last Mountain Made Christmas Market, I wasn’t sure I’d be able to get more in time for this weekend.

Thankfully, the order has arrived. I’ve got a bunch of new coasters, aluminum art and magnets for this event, in addition to 2022 calendars. To see the new designs or just to say Hi, drop by the Civic Centre in Canmore on Saturday or Sunday from 10-4. I’ll be set up in the front lobby.
Here’s a pic from the  one last month, taken by the organizer Julian, who does a fantastic job putting all of this together. The whole venue looks a lot brighter than this pic. Phones always try to overcompensate for ambient light, and I suspect my lighting on the art is to blame. No excuse for the funny looking guy in the mask, though. That’s how I look in real life.

BTW, I’ve run into three people in the past couple of months who’ve asked me why I blocked them on Instagram. Short answer, I’m currently not on any social media platforms. I could go off on a rant about why, but you probably don’t want to read it anymore than I want to write it. The short answer is that I’m putting my time and energy into my site, blog and A Wilder View.

So if you want to follow my work, with my sincere appreciation, this is the best place to find me.