Tag: commissions

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Three Painted Pups


I’m pleased to reveal my three latest commissions, a trio of dogs named Riley, Jessie and Hatcher.

I delivered these last week to a client in Calgary. Suzanne has hired me before to paint a memorial of a black Lab named Santé.
Each commission has a story, and almost all of them become enjoyable memories, both because of the clients I get to work with and the faces I get to paint.

Santé was memorable because Suzanne knew what she wanted, an action pose based on photos she had taken. The details she wanted me to include were fun to paint, and I learned a lot from that piece.

For this latest commission, Suzanne wanted me to paint three separate portraits of Labrador Retrievers she’s had over the years. She is clearly loyal to the breed.

If pet paintings were my only source of income, I could probably get more than a couple dozen done each year. For reasons I’ve laid out before, however, I only take on two or three.

When I create one of my own paintings, it’s usually because I’ve either gone looking for photos of a specific animal, or I’ve found a shot in my archive that inspires an idea. A look, an expression, or even just the lighting can trigger something.

But the choices are all mine, and there’s usually no deadline. When I finish one of my critter paintings, people either like it or they don’t. They buy prints or license the image, and that’s how I know if it connects with people. If it doesn’t, I just try again.

I don’t owe anybody anything.

Commissions, however, are a different animal. Pun intended.

Every job has challenges, but memorial pieces are especially tough, and Suzanne’s recent commission was more difficult than I expected.

Many of the photos I had to choose from were scans of snapshots from years ago, with the lighting and colour challenges you might expect. These are dogs she’s had throughout her life, and I can honestly say I would have turned down at least one of these paintings if it had been a new client wanting me to paint just that dog.
But Suzanne has been great to work with in the past, and I couldn’t very well say yes to one or two of the three dogs and not the other. There was also no rush.

There were several delays on this one. At first, it was my challenge finding the time to fit it in. But Suzanne was also moving into a newly built home, and when it came time to start, she let the next client on my list jump the queue because she just didn’t have the focus for this while dealing with the move.

I can certainly understand that.

So I painted another commission and came back to Suzanne when I was ready to start.

And still, it took a long time.

Because here’s what I hadn’t really considered. While it seemed like one commission for three dogs, it was still three separate paintings. In practice, that meant three commissions’ worth of painting, decision-making and attention to get them all right.

Suzanne was specific. She gave me some great background on each dog and told me personality traits that definitely helped me create better paintings.

She told me Riley was famous for her side-eye, and that’s how she wanted me to paint her. Since she had the photos to back it up, I was happy to accommodate.

That detail proved especially helpful when it came to painting two dogs who were very close in colour.
When I sent work-in-progress shots, Suzanne helped me correct some features that didn’t quite gel with the dogs I was painting.

If I recall correctly, I originally had Hatcher with a more open-mouth expression, but Suzanne wanted something subtler. She also asked me to change the three vertical portraits to square compositions so they could be displayed together in the spot she had chosen.

As shipping and delivery are included with my commissions, I was happy to drive into Calgary last week and present the finished 12×12 metal prints, ready to hang on the wall. I had offered larger sizes, but that was the size she wanted.

Suzanne has a wonderful art collection. She owns a few other larger paintings I’ve done, but she has also commissioned work from other artists, including a few whose work I know and like.

When I delivered these latest commissions last week, I got a tour of her new home, which meant I also got to see some new art. Talk about a bonus.

In recent years, Suzanne has spent time making little wooden carvings herself. I remember seeing some of her early attempts, which already showed talent, but it was a treat to see a lot of her latest work.

Of course, I was doubly amused because they’re mostly little animals with character of their own.
When I delivered the Santé commission in 2021, I got to meet her new black Lab, River, as a puppy. Last week, I got to meet the energetic adult she’s become and hear about some of her unique personality traits.

I’m fortunate that many people have hired me to paint their pets over the years, and I don’t take that lightly.

Because it’s a custom painting and a significant investment of my time, I know this sort of thing is not an affordable purchase for most people. But for those who enjoy my work and want to see their pet painted in my style, I’m grateful for the opportunity and do my best to exceed their expectations.

At present, I have three clients waiting patiently for their turn. The next two are also previous commission clients, and the third is a family who has been collecting my work at Expo for many years.

I’m looking forward to each of those pieces.

Though I have already agreed to paint two dogs for one of those clients, I shared with Suzanne that after this commission, I’m no longer taking on more than one animal for the same client at the same time.

With these three Labs, I had to work on them at the same time so that when finished, they would look like they belonged together. Had I painted one completely and then moved on to the next, I doubt they would have.

And because one dog already takes a significant amount of time to paint, including all of the back and forth that comes with a commission, taking on several for the same client means everybody else waits much longer.

So going forward, one animal at a time.

As you read this, I will have just emailed the next client to see when they’d like to start.

Cheers,
Patrick

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2026 Calendars, Christmas Totes, and What I’m Painting Now

Although the first weekend of the Banff Christmas Market is still over two months away, my planning and purchasing are well underway.

Calendars

I’ve placed my magnet and coaster restock order with Pacific Music & Art, along with the newly finished 2026 calendar that many of you tell me you look forward to each year.

Last year, I miscalculated. I ordered what I thought I needed, but after the usual online sales and the first couple of weekends at the Banff Christmas Market, most were gone. I managed a quick restock for the final two weekends, but sales slowed down, and by January I still had about 20 left. I sold a few more, gave some as bonuses with larger print orders, and still have five or six sitting here now.

It’s always a guessing game. I look at the previous year’s numbers, order what I think will be enough, and cross my fingers.

This year, I’m placing one order only. Once they’re gone, they’re gone.

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.

Tote Bags

I already have Smiling Tiger and Otter tote bags in stock, available now in the store. But I also wanted something seasonal for the Banff Christmas Market, so I created a Christmas Bear design and ordered it last week. It should arrive by the end of October.

I had thought about doing a subscriber pre-order, but to be blunt, I don’t trust that Canada Post won’t strike again for the holidays. If that happened, I’d be stuck with prepaid orders I couldn’t ship and a pile of unhappy customers. Rather than risk it, I bit the bullet, paid for the order myself, and will sell them in person and online as long as stock lasts.

I’m happy with how the design turned out, and I think it’ll go over well. Because of the lead time, there’s no chance for a second run before Christmas. Once they’re gone, that’s it until next year.

Painting

I’m working on a new commission right now: a senior dog with a lot of character. She’s full of markings and features begging for exaggeration. I’m still in the sketch phase but already looking forward to the painting itself.

My Snowy Owl painting is also coming along nicely. I spent several hours Saturday morning painting feather details, and I hope to finish it this week. It’s a perfect seasonal fit, and I plan to have poster and metal prints ready for the Banff Christmas Market. I’m also recording the process, so I’ll have a video to share once it’s complete.

In the meantime, if you missed it, here’s my recent Three Cats Commission video.

While I won’t be taking reservations for calendars or tote bags, A Wilder View subscribers will always get first notice and early access when they’re in the store.

A reminder: I still can’t ship to the United States. With the suspension of the de minimis exemption for Canadian goods, the paperwork and costs are just too much for a small business, both in time and money.

Cheers,
Patrick

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Cat Commission Challenge

When I was working on my most recent three-cat commission, I set out to record the full process. Every painting takes a significant investment of time and energy, but adding a camera, lights, narration, and audio piles on extra work. That part will get easier the more I do it, but I’m still refining my workflow for creating regular videos.

With each one, I learn a little more, cut down on frustrations in editing, and enjoy the process more.

In this video, I share the early sketch work, talk through the messy middle, and explain why commissions carry a different kind of pressure than painting for myself.

Thanks for watching.

Cheers,
Patrick

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Too Much and Not Enough

Most of the time, I enjoy writing posts for my site and email subscribers—truly. But sometimes, it feels like just one more thing on a never-ending to-do list. And right now, that list is long.

I take A Wilder View seriously. People signed up to get what I promised: the stories behind the paintings, insight into the business of being a working artist, and honest updates about the ups and downs. I try to deliver on that. But now and then, I wonder if I should skip writing anything at all when the tone isn’t upbeat. Is it better to go quiet for a few weeks—or even months—or to acknowledge the elephant in the room?

Because creating art for a living is still a job. And like anyone with a job, sometimes I get tired of it.

I’ve often thought, wouldn’t it be easier to just go back and get a “real” job? One where I clock in, clock out, and maybe even have weekends. Sure, working for yourself has its rewards, but the hours are brutal. 10-12 hour days, seven days a week, is the norm. If I’m home, I’m working.

Shonna and I haven’t had a real vacation in a few years. She’s working long hours, too, and it’s wearing on both of us. Travel feels more like another chore than a break, especially with everything costing more.

So this year, we’re staying close to home.

But even that’s not as comforting as it used to be. The wildfire threat has been weighing heavy. After Jasper’s nightmare last year, it feels like everyone in our part of Alberta is bracing for our turn. Banff and Canmore have done prescribed burns for years, but now they’re also logging to create larger fire breaks. Nobody’s complaining.

The story now feels like “not if, but when.” From June to September, we’re supposed to be ready to evacuate on short notice. It’s hard to enjoy your home when each sunny day feels like a threat.

Back in June of 2013, we had to evacuate for a flood none of us saw coming. Evacuate from your home once, and you never quite regain the same sense of security, false though it was. They’ve built a lot of flood protection since then, so I wouldn’t complain about a solid month of rain right now.
I’ve been working on a big commission of three cats. It’s going well—I’m finding the personalities—but it’s a slow process. The client has been wonderful and said there’s no rush, but that can be a trap. If someone trusts me with their money and their story, I take that seriously. I tend to put more pressure on myself than anyone else does. And other clients are waiting patiently. 

I sent her these latest pics yesterday morning, something I don’t normally do for commissions. While critique at this stage is often premature, she knows my work and offered some helpful insight into how their personalities differ from each other. Since my work is all about the character, I welcome that sort of thing. I want my clients to love their paintings.

For example, I shared that I intended to make Fable (left) look a little less worried as I develop it, but she told me he actually looks like that, so what I gleaned from reference was accurate. I’m making changes to all three based on her feedback. Then I’ll draw the bodies and start putting them together into a composition.Meanwhile, I haven’t finished a new wildlife piece in a while, and that’s eating at me. The Banff Christmas Market is just five months away. I need new work ready to print, and it’s already June.

Editorial cartooning continues to take more time than I’d like. More energy, too. Keeping up with the news is exhausting and it’s hard to stay creatively engaged when everything feels so heavy. Sometimes I wonder if people subscribed for the fun wildlife stuff and didn’t expect posts like this. But many of you have told me you appreciate the honesty, so here it is:

I’m burnt out. And I don’t know what to do about it.

Like most people, I don’t feel like there’s enough time. I’ve been getting up at 5 a.m. for nearly thirty years. I like working early mornings, and get a lot more done. But  even if I watch a couple hours of TV in the evening, I feel guilty. That voice that says “you should be working” never shuts up.

I shipped a big wholesale order of prints and stickers to the Toronto Zoo on Friday. It’s their largest order yet. My printer in Victoria came through as always, and I spent all day Thursday signing and packaging the order to send it by UPS. I still can’t trust that Canada Post will get stuff delivered while they’re negotiating their labour dispute. Yet another small business uncertainty to navigate.

By all rights, I should have felt great about the order. But honestly? Just relief. One less thing to worry about.

No satisfaction. Just… done.

I’ve also been learning video production. And I’ve made it harder than it needs to be—not because the tools are so complex, but because I’ve convinced myself I have to get it perfect. I’ve got the gear. I’ve recorded a ton of footage. I even wrote the narration. But I’ve stalled on recording it, because I know once I start, I’ll feel like I have to keep it up. And video takes a lot of time.

Still, I know it’s necessary. Video is the only marketing that moves the needle anymore. So I’m trying to get over myself and find a workflow I can manage and replicate.

People sometimes suggest I hire an assistant, virtual or otherwise. But that’s not really a solution for me. I can’t hand off my writing, painting, emails, or videos. I don’t have the extra money to offload the marketing. And managing someone else? That’s more work, not less, at least at the start.

What I really need is to streamline. Figure out what’s essential. Because I can’t keep piling more on top of what I’m already doing.

Where do you get your ideas? As anyone who owns or runs a business knows, most software platforms have gone to subscription model, meaning if you stop paying, you can no longer use it. Not an option for most people, so they can charge whatever they want. In the space of less than two months Microsoft Office 365 (admin), Adobe (design), Quickbooks (accounting), and Google (gmail isn’t free for business) have increased their prices. And the original cartoon idea used the term ‘Subscription model’ but I changed it to ‘death by monthly fees’ because my cartoons run in newspapers, and they sell ‘subscriptions.’ Not the same thing, but people are weird.

Let me be clear—I’m not fishing for sympathy. I’m healthy. The bills get paid. I have meaningful work and people who support me. I know a lot of others are dealing with far heavier loads—health problems, job losses, financial pressure. You never really know what someone else is carrying.

And I know some of you reading this are always working long hours, too, in harder jobs requiring long commutes, with kids and responsibilities that don’t stop. I’m not suggesting I’ve got it worse.

I’m just telling you where I’m at. If my emails are a little less frequent or a bit quieter, it’s not because I’m slacking. It’s because I’m working. I’m doing what I can with the energy I’ve got—and trying to figure out how to do that without burning all the way out.

Thanks for reading. Your support makes more of a difference than you probably realize.

I’m still here, still working, still figuring it out.

Cheers,
Patrick

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Here We Go Again (Canada Post Edition)

Canada Post is once again threatening strike action — just five months after the last one. For small businesses, it’s another gut punch in a year full of them.

Last time, I lost a good chunk of my Christmas sales because I couldn’t ship anything. And while I’m just one self-employed artist with multiple income streams, plenty of businesses rely on the holiday season to stay afloat. That strike hurt a lot of people.

Here we go again.

I wrote the first draft of this post yesterday morning. By the afternoon, another offer was on the table, so maybe they won’t strike. As of this morning, there is still no decision.

The uncertainty is the killer. I can’t promote anything until I know what’s happening. Instead, I’ve had to waste time updating my site just in case.

By the time you read this, Canada Post might be on strike, about to strike, delaying it until next week, or holding off until — who knows — the next holiday season.

Shipping Update

I looked into shipping with UPS and other carriers. The cost? Around $39 to send one $29 print or a $32 tote bag. Not exactly a deal.

Ironically, I could ship a bunch of items for roughly the same price. But five stickers? I didn’t even check — because really, what would be the point?
So, for now:
– I’ve zeroed my online stock to avoid surprise orders.
– I added the above strike notice to every item in the store (that took a while).
– The items are still visible because I do have stock on hand — stickers, prints, tote bags.

If you’re in Canmore or nearby, I’m happy to offer free delivery. Outside of town, I can still ship — but for a single item, it probably won’t be worth it. That said, if you want to place a larger order or bundle a few things, I’m happy to work with you on shipping costs.

Just email me at patrick@nulllamontagneart.com with any questions or requests.

Some Good News

I recently found out I’ve been accepted for all four long weekends of the Banff Christmas Market this year. That’s a relief and something to look forward to — a good reason to get back to the painting table, once I clear my current backlog.

On The Drawing Board

Right now, I’m working on commissions and recording video content. Normally, I don’t share in-progress shots of commissions — not even with clients — but this year, everything’s in flux, and I’m trying to adapt.
When I’m doing commissions and editorial work, that usually means less time for whimsical wildlife. But if I want to have anything to share with you all, I need to loosen the reins a bit.

So here’s a sneak peek at three cat portraits in progress: Fable, Jack, and Mortdecai. The likenesses aren’t there yet, but it’s a start — and I’m enjoying the process. My client saw them first and was pleased, which is what matters most.
Recording the painting process as I go, I’ll add some narration once I wrestle this new video software into submission. I’m hoping to share it in a week or two.

You have no idea how uncomfortable it is for me to post unfinished work — especially a commission. But honestly, I’m tired. Worn out. And right now, I don’t have the energy to fight my perfectionist tendencies.

Maybe that’s a good thing.
My client kindly gave me permission to share these images and the upcoming video. And since many of you have told me you like seeing how the sausage is made, I’ll be sharing more of that this year.

Back to work.

Cheers,
Patrick

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A Pouty Bear, Commissions, and Tote Bags

A post in three parts. Here we go.
First, here’s a painting I just finished yesterday called Pouty Bear. Even though most of the animals I paint are smiling and happy, I occasionally change them up, even if I know that a different expression may not appeal to people.

My Angry Bear painting is not popular, but it’s still one of my favourites because I enjoyed the work. The grumpy lion, on the other hand, is a pretty good seller, and that surprised me. The Ring-tailed Lemur creeps some people out but definitely has its fans.

Will this pouting brown bear connect with people? Time will tell.
Commissions and Comic-Con

I’ve enjoyed most of the pet portrait commissions I’ve done. Each has a unique story. I like the back-and-forth with clients and am usually happy with the results.

I only paint two or three commissions a year, sometimes only one, so they’re not a big part of my work. I’m OK with that because custom paintings are labour-intensive. Each begins with initial client emails, vetting photos, and discussing expectations. This leads to the actual painting, printing and delivery, which takes several weeks at the best of times. That’s in addition to my daily editorial cartoons and paintings and running my business.

A whimsical wildlife painting takes several hours, too, but each of those paintings has the potential to become a popular print or licensed image that sells for many years. Although every commission advertises my skills to future clients, the painting itself is one and done. It’s unique and specific to the person who hired me. Very few people want a painting of somebody else’s dog.

For my clients, a commission is not an impulse buy; it’s an investment in a very personal and meaningful custom painting. Most people hire me after following my work for a while and becoming familiar with my art style and process. They’ve had time to think about a commission, decide they want one, and only then do they contact me.
At the Calgary Expo a few years ago, Jeremy asked me about painting his dog, Luna. It was several months later before he reached out and got the ball rolling for a Christmas present for his wife, Jenny. Luna is one of my favourite paintings. I enjoyed the experience and look forward to seeing them each year at the Expo. Jeremy and Jenny even visited the Banff Christmas Market this year and brought their dogs along.
I am asked about commissions at shows all the time. For the past couple of years, I have displayed an 18” X24” metal print of Luna in my booth, with a little sign in the corner that reads, “YES, I DO paint commissions. Ask me for more info.”

Since advertising the service with Luna’s painting, I get a lot more inquiries. But here’s the thing: Jeremy was the exception to the rule. Almost nobody hires me for a commission after meeting me at shows. And I’ve realized that talking about commissions is usually the quickest way to get somebody to leave my booth.

Whether it’s at the Calgary Expo or the Banff Christmas Market, here’s how that usually goes. While they scan the metal and canvas prints hanging on the grid walls that define my booth, they see the Luna painting and the commission sign. They get excited that I might paint their dog, and the first question is usually, “How much would that cost?”

I’ve used various talking points to try to soften the sticker shock. I mention that a custom painting is an investment and personal to them. I explain how much work is involved, including printing and shipping/delivery. But as soon as I mention it’s $1900, the disappointed look on most people’s faces is unmistakable.

The price surprises those who are used to buying underpriced art on Etsy, which is often generated AI or photo manipulation. I don’t know how much they thought a custom original painting would cost, but it was much less than what I just quoted them. Because even though very few will flat out say, “I can’t afford that,” it’s evident in their reaction, and that makes them feel embarrassed, even though they shouldn’t. I don’t drop two thousand dollars on anything without planning and careful consideration, so I don’t expect anyone else to.

But now they’re uncomfortable. Their initial enthusiasm for my work, which attracted them to my booth in the first place, is tarnished, and they want to escape this negative feeling as soon as possible. They’ll often ask for a card and say they’ll be in touch, leave the booth, and I know I’m unlikely to ever hear from them.

They never got around to flipping through the 40-50 different prints in the bins, nor did they see the magnets, coasters, stickers, or postcards. I’ll never know how many sales I might have missed if the commission price hadn’t scared them away.

As much as I love showing off that Luna painting, I won’t bring it to shows anymore. I’ll still get commission inquiries at The Calgary Expo, but I won’t advertise them. I’m likely to say that I’m not taking any right now with my current workload.

Like a commission, The Calgary Expo and Banff Christmas Markets are big investments, which I hope will result in excellent sales and allow me to introduce my work to new people. And when they see my happy, smiling animals, along with the occasional pouty bear or grumpy lion, I want to invite them in and show them around my booth rather than give them a reason to leave.

If they sign up for A Wilder View, they can always look into a commission later and decide on their own time that they want to talk about it.

As with all self-employment, art-for-a-living is about adaptation. When something isn’t working, it’s time to make a change.

Tote Bags

Thank you for all the positive comments and emails about the new Otter and Smiling Tiger tote bags I’m ordering for the Calgary Expo. These vibrant printed bags are 100% polyester textured canvas, machine wash and dry, and will withstand everyday use while looking great. Each measures 16” X 13” X 3”.
Several people emailed me asking if I’ll have them in the online store. As with any new product, I must guess how many I might need for the show. Production and delivery timelines mean I won’t get these for more than a month, so I need to order them on Monday to have them in time for the end of April.

While I think they’ll do very well, they’re a significant investment, and I’m erring on the side of caution, which means I hadn’t planned on ordering extras for the online store until I see how they do. And if I added them to the store first and they do very well, I won’t be able to order more in time for Expo.
But I’d love to hear your thoughts.

At $29 plus $5 shipping (in Canada) for one bag, would you buy one if I stocked them on my site? Depending on the feedback, I may increase how many I order tomorrow to accommodate online sales. Please let me know in the comments.

Cheers,
Patrick

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Bearing the Burnt

Over the past few years, you may have noticed more individuals and businesses abandoning social media promotion.

Buzzwords and terminology aside, social media got everybody hooked on free marketing. Then they changed their coding (aren’t we all tired of the word algorithm?), so customers only see your posts when you cough up the cash. And good luck even then. It’s the drug dealer business model: give ‘em a taste, get ‘em hooked, make ‘em pay.

I was happy to switch to email marketing because social media has become a toxic mess of nastiness and polarization. More importantly, it got to a point where the work to reach followers — and make no mistake, promotion IS work — wasn’t paying off.

As I’ve kept a blog on my website for over 20 years and enjoy writing long-form posts, I prefer to connect with my collectors and followers via email. I get much better feedback, and with no need to focus on useless likes and shares, it feels less frantic. It’s more like driving toward a destination at a reasonable rate of speed instead of weaving back and forth like an angry drunk, looking for the fastest of ten crowded lanes.

When it’s your primary means of interaction, it’s essential to be consistent and send regular emails. Whether sharing new paintings, works-in-progress, reference photos I’ve taken, or writing about inspiring excursions, I need to keep an open window into the work and a view behind the scenes.
Over the past week, I’ve received a few subscriber emails asking if they’ve missed an issue of A Wilder View, because they haven’t received anything from me in a while. I usually try to send an email every week or two. As I write this, it’s been about a month. So, what gives?

Frankly, I’m burnt out. I’ve got the pedal pressed to the floor, the wheels are spinning, and the engine is roaring, but it feels like I’m not going anywhere.

I’m working on two commissions, and they’re both going well. I’m genuinely enjoying these pieces, but I don’t share commissions in progress, as my clients deserve to see the finished paintings first.

This is one of the reasons commissions are a financial investment (i.e. not cheap). When I’m working on a custom painting, it means I can’t work on other art that contributes to my income from licensing, products and prints. Commission clients pay for the painting but also for my limited time.

To be fair to both of my current clients, they’ve each said, “No rush.” While I appreciate that freedom, it takes no time for leeway like that to stretch into several months, which would be an abuse of their generosity. They’ve paid substantial installments, so it’s only fair I make their work my priority.

I have a good friend in BC who ordered a custom canoe from a craftsman here in Alberta. He paid his deposit and was assured it would be ready within a reasonable time frame. It has now been several years, and every frustrated call or email results in a fresh excuse. What was supposed to be a commission that would bring him joy is now a subject he avoids because he’s so angry about the whole thing. He feels like he’s been taken for a ride and ripped off.

I refuse to be that artist. When I pay for something, I want results. My clients should expect no less.

It’s also why I pay my bills as quickly as possible, especially to other small businesses. I know what it’s like to chase unpaid invoices and royalty payments. It makes me feel like a schmuck asking for money I’m owed, sometimes more than once, and it builds resentment. I don’t want my suppliers and customers to share that experience.

The other work occupying my limited time is my daily editorial cartoons. I draw 6-8 every week for newspaper clients across Canada. Lately, the news has been fast and furious with significant events, so planning cartoons can be challenging when it’s been one late-breaking story after another. It cuts into the time I’ve budgeted for the painted work. That’s tough sometimes as there is no growth potential in that part of my work, and it will eventually vanish completely. But it’s a deadline every day and still a necessary part of my income.
This past Sunday, I had drawn two cartoons in the morning and was going to paint all afternoon. Then President Biden announced he was no longer running for re-election, and suddenly, I had to draw a new cartoon for Monday morning. While drawing each cartoon takes a few hours or more, I first have to come up with the idea, which also takes time.
Adjusting course, I planned to paint all day Tuesday but woke to find out that the town of Jasper had evacuated for a wildfire. Suddenly, I had to scrap the cartoon I’d already drawn and sent Monday afternoon for the Rocky Mountain Outlook. Given how our communities are so alike, I had to produce two new cartoons (one local, one syndicated) on the situation and get them out quickly.
Having been through an evacuation in 2013 (water, not fire), and the odds are a little too good we may one day go through that again; I feel for those people. It’s a frightening thing to leave your home and not know if will be there when you get back. As the fire has breached the town of Jasper, and structures are burning, some people will lose everything. What makes it worse is when insensitive, small-minded keyboard warriors post stupid things like, “It’s only stuff.”

That sort of glib comment is neither helpful nor kind.
I have several paintings in progress, a few I expected to be done by now, which is frustrating. Because each features several animals, they take much longer, contributing to the feeling I’m not producing enough finished work.

I have stolen an hour here and there to work on palate cleansers between the two commissions, the two rough bear paintings in this post. One of these sketches is part of a larger painting I wanted to have done before the end of this month, but it’s not happening. Hopefully, I’ll have something finished to share before too long.
In the meantime, I hope you’re having a good summer despite the oppressive heat and wildfire smoke in some places. After a cool and comfortable rainy June, our July has sucked up all the moisture, and our brown grass and crispy trees could use some precipitation.

Here’s to steady rain for a week or two. Soon.

Cheers
Patrick

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Work-Life Balance, Retirement and Shades of Grey

When people return home from a vacation, they can get the blues, a hangover from the trip unrelated to any spirits they may have consumed. It’s that depressing realization that even though you just had a positive experience you’d been looking forward to and a necessary break from work and the routine, that’s over now, and it’s back to the grind.

In the weeks leading up to the Calgary Expo at the end of April, I had no shortage of motivation. There was plenty to do with a specific goal and a big event on the horizon. My tasks were clear, as was the deadline. The show arrived, the effort paid off, and it was a big success.

Usually, after the Expo, I feel inspired to paint, and that held true this time for about a week. This year, however, I got the hangover.

Now what?

So, I was in a bit of an emotional trough in May, which is unusual since I’m often peppy in spring. I’m out on the bike almost daily, as regular exercise is recommended for a lack of optimism. I was still up early to work, but there was a lot of heavy sighing and staring out the window, trying to figure out where to put my limited creative energy for both financial security and artistic fulfillment.

I’ve always got the daily cartoon deadlines and projects on which to work, but it can often be difficult to focus without specific targets.

However, at the end of May, I was accepted for four three-day weekends of the Banff Christmas Market in November and December. And last week, I finalized agreements for two pet portrait commissions. One is a large, active dog with a comical personality, and the other a memorial piece for the smallest dog I’ve yet painted. He was adorable and obviously very loved.

A commission painting is a big responsibility, one I don’t take lightly. It’s a privilege and honour that anybody would choose my style and work to capture their furry family member in a painting, especially for a memorial.

I’ve never painted two commissions at once for two different clients, but each is a welcome challenge. Both clients were fully engaged in the initial back and forth, and I’ve begun with a clear idea of what each is looking for. They offered suggestions, preferences and details that will make for better paintings. That’s always a great start.
The paintings I was already working on need to be done by the end of next month so I can order puzzles and products for the markets. Then there are the sketches, paintings and writing for the book, six editorial cartoons each week, and now two commissions. Finally, there’s the ongoing marketing and admin stuff that’s a lot more work than most realize when they choose self-employed artist as a profession.

For anyone considering that leap, I can sum up the past 25+ years of my career as follows: Creating art is easy. Selling it is hard.

Suddenly, I have a very full plate for the next three or four months, with timelines and deadlines to keep me on track. I’m grateful to have so much to do, especially since a big chunk of it is creating artwork that might make people a little happier.

Hearing people in their fifties start talking about retirement is normal, but I have no such plans. What would I do without my work, finally have time to explore some artistic and creative pursuits?

It’s not hard to find articles and online posts that talk about work-life balance. While it might seem like an encouraging message, to slow down and relax, the pressure often makes people feel worse about their lives, not better. The guilt that comes with some stranger telling you that you’re doing your life wrong is just one more brick added to the load you already carry.

Being told we must pursue a better work-life balance isn’t a carrot. It’s a stick.
Sure, I’ll bitch about being too busy sometimes, but I chose this. Though the landscape will change, as will the work, and it’s unlikely ever to get easier, I plan to create art as long as possible. I don’t know if I could do anything else, now.

Shonna puts up with a lot, living with an anxious, moody, high-strung, obsessive-compulsive artist. But without my creative work to keep me busy, I’m sure I’d wake up one morning with a pillow hovering over my face.

Justifiable. Case dismissed.

I’ve often read variations of phrases like ‘your work is not your life,’ a caution to be careful how much time you devote to your job. But I don’t know who I am without my work. It’s the best part of me. I’m terrified of the day that age or something else robs me of my ability.

So, I’m going to continue to maintain my fitness and health, keep my head on a swivel while biking and driving, and hope to avoid the fickle finger of fate and the things I don’t see coming so I can keep drawing, painting and writing as long as I can.

Be who you are, people. We’re only here for a little while.

____

Dave and Martha discovered my art in Victoria several years ago, and getting emails from them is always nice. Usually, they might send a kind comment or something encouraging after A Wilder View shows up in their inboxes. They’re my parents’ age; their son and I were born in the same month and year, a detail they’d shared a while ago.

They’re currently on a road trip from their home in Washington, and these long-time collectors and supporters of my whimsical wildlife art have been here in the Canadian Rockies this week. It was great to meet them in person, and we had an enjoyable visit over coffee on Sunday.

When Dave described what they’d be wearing so I’d recognize them, he mentioned that he was bald. Though I saw them right away while locking my bike, I joked that I was looking for a bald guy, and he was wearing a hat. He shot back that I was greyer than he expected.

OK, I had that coming.

I’ve known for a while that I must spend an hour painting an ‘update’ to my self-portrait to account for more salt in that pepper, especially in my beard.
I’m grateful for so many of you who follow my work, comment on my posts or write emails, sending me wildlife pictures and thoughts about something I’ve shared or the artwork in general. With so much content available to us, that anyone volunteers to receive my emails is humbling. It’s cliché to say that I wouldn’t be able to create art for a living without the support of people who enjoy it, but it’s true. So, feel free to reach out anytime, comment on a post, or just say Hello.

But please, no politics or news links, fake or otherwise. I see way more of that than I want to in the other part of my work.

Thanks for the visit, Dave and Martha. Though you worried you might have been intruding on my time, it was truly my pleasure. Have a safe trip home.
.

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Pet Painting Perspective

Many artists aim to find a niche, the work they love to do, a signature look, and the style for which they become known. To make a living from it, it must also be something enough people want.

If there had been a formula to find that work, somebody would have made billions providing that service. It’s discovered only after throwing stuff at the wall and waiting for something to stick.

I tried many different things before I found my wildlife paintings, and while I enjoyed some of them and could likely still earn revenue from each, my best work is my funny-looking animals.

Much of the marketing and promotion advice I read about art-for-a-living talks about the need for adaptability and cultivating multiple revenue streams. In the current gig economy, where artists compete against the lowest bidder in crowdsourcing, stock imagery and AI image generation, today’s reliable income source could be tomorrow’s buggy-whip manufacturing.

Though I specialize in my whimsical wildlife paintings, that work still involves different types of clients. I sell prints and products to my customers and wholesale to retail clients. For products I can’t produce and market myself, I have licensing deals with several companies and am always looking for more. And every so often, I’ll paint a pet portrait.
I’ve been painting commissions for a long time, and though it’s a small part of my business, I enjoy them. I’ve worked with some wonderful clients, and I hope to have more like them in the future. I’m hired most often to paint dogs, but I’ve painted several cats, too. I’ve even painted a horse.
The difficulty with commission work is that, aside from advertising the work to future clients, there is no market for the finished paintings. Most people don’t want a portrait of somebody else’s dog; they want one of their own. And when I’m working on a custom painting, that’s time away from everything else. So, a commissioned painting is an investment for both the client and the artist.

But when the right client wants my art style, they understand the work involved and the value inherent in a custom painting of their own, and it’s often a great experience.

In the past, I have offered two types of paintings to my clients: a traditional portrait and my whimsical wildlife style. That’s the more exaggerated character, often near caricature rendering, of an animal with personality.

Though I have painted several traditional portrait commissions for happy clients who are delighted with the results, I prefer the whimsical style. It’s my signature work, the art I wish to be known for, and that which attracts inquiries in the first place.

I have seen countless skilled and talented artists who can paint pet portraits; many make a good living doing that. But no matter how beautifully done, I always feel traditional portraits lack something. That’s not a criticism of their expertise or art but a consequence of my perception. I see a different spark in animals, and I put that into my paintings.
Each client and commission is different, and specific details often make a painting more fun. Chase was a retired police dog in California with a titanium tooth. It was important to the client that the tooth was evident in the piece.

Santé was a memorial piece, and the client wanted her in action. That dog lived a full life of adventure. She had a stick library in the yard, so one in her mouth was important, too. Thankfully, the client had plenty of reference photos to help me create what she wanted, and we were both pleased with the finished piece.
Luna (first image above) is a ridiculously happy St. Bernard, and the client found me at the Calgary Expo a couple of years ago. In our initial discussions about the piece, I asked how he felt about my painting the classic St. Bernard in the snow with a brandy cask. It turns out Luna already had a custom-made wooden cask with her name on it, and the owner provided several great photos of it for me to work from.

I now advertise my commissions at live events with the Luna painting, and I’ve had several people ask about buying it.

My style of art is not for everybody. Hell, it’s not even for most people. We all have different tastes in art. But for those who enjoy my interpretations of animals, I want to be the guy known for this style. When somebody sees my art at a gift show, they often recognize it from somewhere else they’ve seen it, such as “We bought one of these at the Calgary Zoo.”

So, before the Calgary Expo this week, I edited the Commissions page on my site and removed the traditional pet portraits I’ve done from my portfolio. From here on, the only commissions I’ll entertain will be those who want a painting in my whimsical wildlife style because that’s the best work I do.

For any questions about my custom work, please start with the Commissions page, where you’ll find all the details, including pricing and some kind words clients have said about the experience.

If you have a furry or feathered friend you’d like to see painted in my fun, whimsical, detailed style, I’d love to work with you.

Cheers
Patrick

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The Professional, Personal, and Paintings of 2022

Keeping a blog is handy when I write a year-end wrap-up because I don’t have to remember what happened. So here are some of the standouts from this year.

Sticker Surprise
While on a cabin trip last year, my buddy Darrel suggested my work might lend itself well to vinyl stickers people put on vehicle windows. So, I designed a few, sourced a production company, and realized he was onto something.

The ten designs have done well with regular re-orders at the Calgary Zoo, Discovery Wildlife Park, and Stonewaters in Canmore. They were also popular at Calgary Expo and the Mountain Made Markets. This week, I reordered a bunch and added two new designs. In the upcoming year, I’ll be working to get these into more stores.

The NFT boom goes bust
Earlier this year, I thought there might be a market selling NFTs of some of my paintings. I read a lot of information, entertained offers from online galleries, and eventually signed with one. They were professional and good to work with, but then the entire crypto art market fell apart.

Thankfully, I lost no money on the experiment. I never bought any cryptocurrency or paid for my own NFT minting. The time I lost was an educational experience, and I have no regrets. You will never have any success without risk. Kevin Kelly once said, “If you’re not falling down occasionally, you’re just coasting.”

Will NFTs come back into favour? I doubt it.

Cartoon Commendation
I don’t usually enter editorial cartoon contests, but I made an exception this year for the World Press Freedom Competition. I’d already drawn the cartoon above that fit the theme, and the top three prizes included a financial award. Though I hadn’t expected much, I won 2nd place and the prize money paid for most of my new guitar.

The Rocky Mountain Outlook is our local weekly paper. I’ve been their cartoonist since it began in 2001, and I’ve never missed an issue. National awards matter to weekly papers as they lend credibility to the publication, especially when soliciting advertisers who pay for it. The Outlook enters my work into the Canadian Community Newspaper Awards each year.The CCNAs didn’t happen last year because of the pandemic, so they awarded two years at once this time. For Best Local Cartoon, I won First, Second and Third for 2020 and Second and Third for 2021 in their circulation category.

Given there are fewer local papers each year and even fewer local cartoonists, I wonder if the multiple awards say more about the lack of competition than the quality of my work.  Regardless, the recognition is still welcome.The problem with local cartoons  is that you kind of have to live here to understand most of them. So the ones I’ve shared here are a random selection of local and national topics.
Between the five or six syndicated editorial cartoons I create each week, plus the local cartoon for The Outlook, I drew 313 editorial cartoons this year.Calgary Expo and the Mountain Made Markets

I know artists who do the gift and market circuit all year long. For some, it’s their entire living, and they do well. Others try it for a few years, don’t make any money, and move on to something else. It can be a real grind.

More than once, I’ve considered getting a bigger vehicle, a tent and the display and booth hardware I would need to do the fair and market circuit in the warmer months and the holiday shows in November and December.

But with daily editorial cartoon deadlines, long days away and travelling each week are next to impossible. I enjoy working in my office every day and have no desire to spend a lot of my time driving and staying in hotels.

The one big show I look forward to each year is the Calgary Comic and Entertainment Expo at the end of April, five long days, including a full day for setup. So when the full event reemerged from its two-year pandemic hiatus, I was excited to return.

Not only was 2022 my best year of sales to date, but it was also great fun. I’m already looking forward to the 2023 event, though I’m tempering my expectations with a possible looming recession. Then again, I didn’t think this year would be good, and I was happily proven wrong.

There were several Mountain Made Markets this year, with weekend events every month from May to December. Held indoors at the Canmore Civic Centre, it’s an easy setup close to home, so it’s worth my time.

Each market was profitable, and I enjoyed introducing new people to my work, meeting subscribers in person and visiting with customers, vendors and friends. Significant changes are coming for that event this year. Whether good or bad remains to be seen, but I hope to do more of them in 2023.

Licensing

If you’ve ever bought a face mask, magnet, coaster, or calendar from me, those come from Pacific Music & Art, just a handful of the many items they sell. I often hear from people who’ve bought a trivet in Banff, a coffee mug in Alaska, or an art card in Washington.

Licensing allows me to spend my time painting and still reach new markets and audiences. I signed a few new deals this year with Art Licensing International agency, a company that has represented my work for several years. Agencies might have many more contacts, but they take a big chunk of the royalties, so it’s a double-edged sword. I prefer to find most licenses on my own.

Sometimes companies cold call me. When Diamond Art Club contacted me about licensing my work, I had barely heard of diamond art kits.

Though there was a lead time of many months, the Otter kit finally launched this summer and sold out in days. Producing these kits involves more than simply printing the image on an item, so it took a few months for them to restock that first piece, but it’s again available on their site.

More diamond art kit designs are coming in 2023, but I’m not allowed to share which ones yet.

I signed a new contract last week for ten of my images with an overseas company for another product, but that, too, will be something I can’t share until the middle of next year. Licensing usually involves quite a bit of time between signing contracts and actual production, so it’s work now that pays later.

Come to think of it, that’s a good way of looking at commercial art in general. Every piece I paint is an investment in future revenue.

Special Projects

As I wrote about my latest commission earlier this week, here’s the link if you’d like to see and read about the pet portraits I painted this year.

Every year, I begin with great plans and expectations, but things go off the rails or new opportunities show up, and the whole year becomes a series of course corrections. All I can do for delayed projects important to me is try again.

I tend to slip into a fall melancholy or winter depression most years. When it happens, I often throw my efforts into a personal project, usually painting a portrait of a screen character. I’ve painted several portraits of people, and many result in great stories to go with them. Here’s the John Dutton character painting I did last year.I realized earlier this month that I wouldn’t get to one this year, even though I had already chosen someone to paint. While disappointed, not having the time was likely due to the work I put into the markets, something I hadn’t done in previous years. However, my latest commission of Luna almost felt like a personal piece because I so enjoyed that painting.

I still had down days this fall, especially with our brutally cold November and December. But September and October were beautiful and right before the weather turned, I had a great cabin trip with my buddy, Darrel.

So the seasonal depression wasn’t as dark as it has been in recent years, and for that, I’m grateful.

The Personal

On a sunny June day in Calgary, a woman ran a red light and wrote off Shonna’s car. While we had no immediately apparent injuries, we’ve been sharing one vehicle ever since and likely will until sometime in the middle of next year. Unfortunately, everything we can find, used or new, is overpriced, and we’ve heard many stories of fraudulent car dealers adding extra fees and playing bait-and-switch games. As if the near criminal behaviour of our own insurance company wasn’t bad enough.

But we bought Pedego Element e-bikes and love them. Canmore is easier to get around by bike than car, and it has become a necessity since they brought in paid parking. So we were both disappointed when winter arrived with a vengeance in November, and we had to put them away. While we had planned to get studded tires and ride the bikes all winter, as many around here do, 20″ studded fat tires are just one more item on the long list of global supply problems.

We had a wonderful vacation in August, glamping and kayaking for a week off northern Vancouver Island, a 25th-anniversary trip we had postponed at the beginning of the pandemic. It was one of the best adventures we’ve ever had.

I bought a silent acoustic guitar this year and began to play music again. It’s always within arm’s reach of my desk, and I’ve been playing it almost every day, sometimes for ten minutes, but most often for an hour or more. With regular practice, I’m a better musician now than I’ve ever been, and it’s a lot of fun, especially bringing it on a couple of cabin trips.Best of all, there is no chance I will ever play guitar for a living. It’s a purely creative escape with no responsibility to pay my bills.

Painting

Including the two commissions, I completed nine full-resolution production pieces this year. I wanted to paint more.

Best I can figure, preparing for and attending the additional Mountain Made Markets this year ate up a lot of time and energy, especially on weekends when I do a lot of my painting. I still had to create the same number of editorial cartoons each week but sacrificed painting time. That’s valuable information to have when considering future markets and shows. While those might give me more opportunities to sell the work, they steal from time creating it.

I’ve put together another video to share this year’s painted work. Most of these are finished paintings, with a few works in progress.

Hundreds of new people subscribed to A Wilder View in 2022. My sincere thanks to you who’ve been with me for years and those who just joined the ride. Whatever challenges you face in the coming year, I hope the occasional funny-looking animal in your inbox gives you a smile and makes life a little bit easier, if only for a moment or two.

Good luck with whatever you work toward in 2023.

Happy New Year!

Patrick.