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A Wilder View on Awards

I’ve been drawing and painting my whimsical wildlife art for 16 years. Licensed internationally on several products, I also sell prints and stickers wholesale to places like the Calgary Zoo and Discovery Wildlife Park, in my online store, and at live events like the Banff Christmas Market and the Calgary Expo.

Most people subscribe to A Wilder View to see new paintings and hear the stories behind that work. So, it often surprises some and occasionally annoys others when I write the odd post about politics or things going on in the news. What does that have to do with funny-looking animals? Does everybody have to share their political opinion these days?

It’s usually that many people don’t know that I’ve been a syndicated editorial cartoonist for over twenty years. But if it weren’t for the political cartoons, there wouldn’t have been any animal paintings.
In 1998, while managing a waterslide facility at a hotel in Banff, I drew my first cartoon for the Banff Crag & Canyon. Many editorial cartoonists get into the profession because they’re political junkies who can draw. I liked to draw, and I figured I could learn to follow the news and politics if I had to.

I was 27 at the time. I had never been to art school and didn’t know the difference between right-wing and left-wing politics. But hey, it was a small weekly paper, and $30/week gave me a little beer money.

In 2001, I was invited to join the Rocky Mountain Outlook; about the same time, Shonna and I moved to Canmore. It was an upstart weekly newspaper looking to compete with the Banff Crag & Canyon and the Canmore Leader.

Today, the Outlook is the newspaper of record for the entire Bow Valley; those other papers are gone. It is a point of pride that I have had a cartoon in every issue for 24 years. While most Outlook cartoons have a local theme, they sometimes run one of my syndicated cartoons if a local toon doesn’t work that week.
So, what’s a syndicated cartoon? I get that question a lot.

Each week, I draw five to seven more cartoons on regional, provincial, national or international issues and submit them to newspaper clients across Canada. I follow the news every day, come up with ideas and draw them. If a publication prints the cartoon, they pay me.

Many of my clients are weekly publications, and several are under monthly contracts. That means they only print my cartoons. They only need one cartoon each week, but because I also supply dailies, they have several cartoons to choose from.

While some daily newspapers still have editorial cartoonists on contract, many have a few available spots each week or only use syndicated. Several daily papers in Canada run my cartoons, but they also print submissions from other cartoonists, so it’s a daily competition.

Early in my career, I wanted a job with a daily newspaper. But as we learn in life, sometimes the best thing for you is not getting what you want. Had I got a daily newspaper gig, I would have been laid off in budget cuts years ago, a fate that has befallen many cartoonists in the struggling newspaper business.

Because syndication was always my business model, I never had to face losing my day job and scrambling to pivot. It also meant I had to draw every day, without fail, or I didn’t get paid. I learned early the discipline it takes to run your own business, that you work even when you don’t feel like it because you have to. It’s a lesson I try to share with anyone who asks for tips on making art for a living. As any self-employed person will tell you, you’ll never work harder than working for yourself.

The other benefit was that you can’t help but improve if you’re drawing daily, so my cartoons quickly got better. My early pitiful caricatures, where nobody could tell who I was drawing, became one of my best skills. I used to dread drawing real people, but now I enjoy that part of the work, even though those cartoons take longer.

Best of all, my years of learning to be a better cartoonist led to the work I enjoy most: my funny-looking animals. If I hadn’t been a cartoonist first and still somehow stumbled into painting wildlife, they wouldn’t have that ‘cartoony but real’ look that so many people enjoy.

I’ve been fortunate to receive some awards in my career, but not many. Artists only need one award to add ‘award-winning artist’ to their bio. They’re kind of like high school diplomas. Employers look for them on your resume, but how many ever ask to see one?

To think, one lie and I could have skipped those three years and started work early.
I’m most proud of the awards I received at Photoshop World Las Vegas in 2010 and 2014. The first year, I won the Illustration and Best in Show awards for some of my early animal paintings. That recognition was important to me because it was from an organization full of people I liked and respected. They were an encouraging group of talented artists and teachers, and they helped me become a better artist.

That award also opened doors at Wacom. They make the drawing tablets and displays on which I have created all my cartoons and paintings since the late 90s. I’ve worked with them several times on promotional projects over the years, and it’s been one of my favourite professional relationships.

In 2014, the last year I attended Photoshop World, I won the Best in Show award for my One in Every Family painting. The prize was the Canon 5D Mark III camera I still use today to take reference photos. Just like my car, it may not be new and pristine anymore, but it gets me where I need to go, and I will be truly upset the day I no longer have it.

That organization and event no longer exist, but it ended on a high note, and I look back on that time with fond memories. Many of those friends and acquaintances still follow my work in A Wilder View.

I have won several Alberta Weekly Newspaper Awards and Canadian Community Newspaper Awards for my local cartoons in The Rocky Mountain Outlook. The Outlook enters my work for those, and that recognition does more for the newspaper than for me. But I’ve been happy to be part of the team effort.

This brings me to the National Newspaper Awards. I think I tried to enter once in 2006 but found out I wasn’t eligible because I wasn’t attached to a daily newspaper. Sure, many dailies ran my work, but they most often sponsored their own cartoonists for the NNAs.

So, I didn’t try to enter again and figured I never would.
The Calgary Herald has been publishing my cartoons for twenty years. During that time, they’ve gone through several editorial page editors, and I’ve had a good relationship with most of them. But as is the case for all art, some liked my work more than others. So, some years, I might get published only once or twice a month.

A change in editor at any newspaper can be the end of a cartoon contract or the beginning of a new one. They all have their favourite cartoonists, and when an editor goes from one newspaper to the other, they’ve often brought me with them or replaced me with one of my competitors. It’s the nature of the business.

These days, I’ve got a great relationship with the Calgary Herald. The now Editor-in-Chief, Monica Zurowski, has been encouraging and supportive of my work and runs my cartoons around ten times a month.

So, while the Herald does not employ me, they run my cartoons more than any other daily newspaper in Canada. Last year, Ms. Zurowski asked if they could sponsor me for the National Newspaper Awards for editorial cartooning. It was a big surprise because the NNAs hadn’t been on my radar for almost twenty years.

Because the Herald had published so many of my cartoons in 2023, I could choose five cartoons I liked from a large enough selection, and they submitted them on my behalf. I didn’t expect much, so I wasn’t disappointed when I didn’t get a nomination.

In January of this year, The Herald again asked if I wanted to submit and said they would sponsor me. The editor chose five cartoons she liked from those they’d published and said I was free to make any changes. I suggested two substitutions, and they submitted another five-cartoon portfolio for the 2024 competition. Again, I went in with low expectations. You can see those five cartoons throughout this post.

This week, I received a call from Ms. Zurowski telling me I’m one of three finalists for the National Newspaper Awards. The other finalists are Michael de Adder for his work in the Halifax Chronicle Herald/Globe and Mail and Gabrielle Drolet for the Globe and Mail.
I’ve got some mixed feelings about this unexpected nomination. I’m pleased at the recognition, of course. It’s a bit of validation in a profession where I’ve often felt like an outsider.

As someone who started relatively late in the profession, when the newspaper industry was already struggling, I often felt too far behind and that my cartoons didn’t measure up. Even when I hosted the Canadian Editorial Cartoonists Convention in Banff in 2008, I felt significant imposter syndrome. And in the aftermath of that event, of which I have no fond memories, I resigned myself to the fact that I was not part of that club. And I moved on. I have had little contact with that community since.

Instead, I have focused on the work, improving my skills, and keeping my business adaptable and sustainable. As newspapers have sold, floundered and folded, I have positioned my other artwork to take up the slack. Financially, 2018 was my best year for editorial cartooning, but each year since then, as more newspapers close, that side of my business has shown a steady decline.

Fortunately, my whimsical wildlife work continues to grow, allowing me to continue to make a good living as an artist. But I’m still drawing a local cartoon for The Outlook and five or six syndicated cartoons each week. I’m just getting paid less now for that same cartoon output.

I wondered this week if the NNA award carries the weight it used to. There are fewer cartoonists on the playing field, and some of the giants of the profession are now gone, out of work, or drawing fewer cartoons. Would a National Newspaper Award mean more to me if more cartoonists were in the race? I think so.

Or perhaps, even twenty-seven years after that first editorial cartoon became a career of thousands more, I still feel that imposter syndrome, that I never was a part of that club. Our demons never leave us, do they?

They will announce the winners of the National Newspaper Awards in Montreal on Friday, April 25th. It’s an appropriate irony that I will be very busy that day, selling my whimsical wildlife art at my biggest annual event, The Calgary Expo. It will be my tenth year at the show, introducing people to the artwork I love most, that wouldn’t have happened without newspapers and political cartoons.

Whether I win a National Newspaper Award or not, I’ll be right where I belong.

Cheers,
Patrick

One more thing

Several metal prints arrived this week for The Calgary Expo next month, the first time I’ve seen some of my newest paintings on metal. Unpacking new prints never fails to put a smile on my face as my work always looks best in print.
When I finished this Ringleader painting, I wrote, “I have no idea how I feel about this painting and probably won’t for a while. I feel more relief that it’s finally over than satisfaction with the result.”

Just over a month later, now that the perfectionism for the piece has subsided, I can honestly say this is one of my favourite paintings. It’s so delightfully ridiculous and I laughed out loud after unpacking it. Because of the detail and so many faces, I printed it larger at 18”X24” on metal and I’m looking forward to hanging it in my booth.

As I’ll be busy every day for the next month, signing and packing new stock, organizing my booth hardware and equipment, drawing cartoons and trying to get a video recording finished, I wanted a break before all the chaos. So, my buddy Darrel and I spent four nights last weekend at the cabin we often rent in the foothills of Central Alberta.
There was still plenty of snow on the ground, on the colder side of March, and we didn’t see any wildlife. But we did what greying old men like us usually do; played cards and games, went for walks around the property, napped and played guitar. This was a selfie I took for a text reply to Shonna one afternoon when she asked how we were doing.
She complimented our usual black T-shirt matching ensembles. I told her I suspected she might be making fun of us, to which she replied, “Nailed it!”

As I finished writing this, an email alert came in that Prime Minister Mark Carney will call a snap federal election this weekend, and Canadians will go to the polls as early as April 28th. That’s the day after the Calgary Expo, which means April just got a whole lot busier.

I’m glad I took the break when I had the chance. 

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The Ringleader

Some paintings come together easily. A reference photo may immediately inspire an idea, I’ll sit down and mock up sketches, and it will almost feel like the image creates itself.

This was NOT one of those paintings.

I’ve had more than a few frustrating experiences painting where the work didn’t seem to want to come together. I’ve beaten myself up about it, wrung my hands and thought, “Well, I used to know how to do this; I guess I don’t anymore.”

Eventually, I’ve made it through, and some of those paintings became bestsellers.
This painting has been something entirely different. Even though I had a clear idea of what I wanted it to look like, I couldn’t get it to feel right. It was inspired by a photo I took at the Calgary Zoo, and I even had the name of the piece before I painted the first brushstroke.

I came very close to calling this piece finished a couple of months ago. But I showed it to my artist friend Derek, who kindly told me what I already knew. It wasn’t working. The faces were laid out too uniformly, like a tic-tac-toe grid, and the personality wasn’t there.

So I went back to the beginning, discarding dozens of hours of work to start over again. The difference this time, however, was that I looked at it as one piece containing several characters rather than several characters I created separately and then assembled into one piece.
The first go round, I used a specific reference for each lemur I painted and drew them all individually. Even after I assembled them, I kept going back to the individual references for each, and it wasn’t easy to keep track of it all. I made it far too complicated.

When I started over, I abandoned the individual reference. I focused on the expressions and characters without worrying about making each look like a specific reference because I didn’t need it. Lemurs are lemurs; they don’t look all that different from each other. As long as the central character had the most personality, the others were the supporting cast, even though their details were still necessary.
The key to getting this piece back on track was to stop painting individual trees and just paint the forest. Even though this was a challenging painting, with a lot of redrawing and direction changes, I learned from the frustration. These kinds of lessons always contribute to better work in the future.

On Marc Maron’s WTF podcast this week, director James Mangold talked about lessons he has learned in filmmaking. He said that even though you need to start with a plan, if you hold it too tightly, you don’t leave any room for discovery in the process.

The finished piece still doesn’t quite match my original inspiration and vision. And while there are still the same nine lemurs as before, they’re more dynamic in their placement, different angles, placed higher and lower. There are more tails here and there, and I added hands for the ringleader as the central character.

But when I spend too much time with a painting, I can’t see it with fresh eyes anymore, so I don’t know if it’s any good.

What’s worse is that January and February are tough for me, as they are for many people. We’ve been enduring a period of bitter cold the past couple of weeks, and that always sucks the life out of me. I’ve forced myself to go for a few hikes and bundled-up bike rides to get out of the house and exercise, but it’s been a slog.

It’s also a time of year when I spend a lot of money on my business. From the final 50% booth installment for The Calgary Expo, the deposit for registering for the Banff Christmas Market, my first quarterly tax installment, paying for new promotional items, test prints for new products, plus restocking prints for anticipated spring client orders and Expo, and all the materials that go with that, it’s a part of self-employed stress I never get used to. It’s a maxim as old as time that you must spend money to make money, but nothing is guaranteed, so it’s always uncomfortable.

Finally, with the editorial cartoon side of my work, I must follow the deluge of bad news that breaks daily because he-who-shall-not-be-named continues his insane barrage of verbal and economic attacks on Canada. As much as I’d like to turn off the news to preserve my sanity, I can’t do that and still do my job.

All of this, aside from the 51st-state bullshit, is business as usual for this time of year. But when it piles on, it usually puts me in a pretty dark place.
Under these circumstances, my perception of how any finished piece looks is distorted. I have no idea how I feel about this painting and probably won’t for a while. I feel more relief that it’s finally over than satisfaction with the result.

I’ve done several paintings in my career where I’ve felt indifference for them upon completion but grew to love them over time. Maybe this will be one of those, but I have no way to know. Artists tend to put too much pressure on themselves and make more out of their work than they should, and I am no exception. Ultimately, it’s just a painting of some funny-looking lemurs, and I have spent enough time on it.

“Art is never finished, only abandoned.”

Nobody knows if Leonardo da Vinci really said it, but it’s an oft-repeated quote because of how much it resonates with artists, that there is always room for improvement, and perfection isn’t possible.

With that in mind, I’m moving on and will start a new painting in a day or two.

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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Ring-tail Renditions

When the Land of Lemurs exhibit opened at the Calgary Zoo several years ago, I was excited to get up close and personal with these critters. Lemurs are a matriarchal species, meaning the women are in charge. Only females were in residence at the time, but I don’t know if that’s still true.

Because of disagreements in sample size and the territories surveyed, the number of Ring-tailed Lemurs left in the wild is under dispute. However, one thing experts agree on is that the wild population is in severe decline. Deforestation and hunting means lemurs may go extinct in our lifetime.

The World Wildlife Fund and several other conservation organizations work to educate and support communities in Madagascar to help them coexist with lemurs. Unfortunately, colonies in captivity may one day be the only place where lemurs exist.

One of the interesting features of the lemur habitat at the Calgary Zoo is that the lemurs are free-roaming within the enclosure. People must enter through a controlled gate, where an attendant explains the rules. Once inside, other employees and volunteers answer questions while ensuring the safety of the lemurs.

The enclosure design means the lemurs can go where they like, including climbing atop an unsuspecting person who crouches down for something. With no fence or glass, this open concept makes taking photos a real treat.

Early in 2020, before the world shut down, Wacom commissioned me to record a video using their Wacom One display, along with a voice-over narrative I wrote. I recorded a ring-tailed lemur painting for that project, and it’s one of my favourite pieces, mostly because she looks ready to snap. It’s also a popular print with many of my collectors.

I’ve long wanted to create another painting featuring several lemurs, inspired by the following photo I took in 2017. All these lemurs look a little stunned; harmless goofs, not too bright, except for one.
This photo always makes me chuckle. That evil-looking stare straight down my lens, the squinting focused eyes, the chunk missing from her ear. She reminds me of a gangster saying, “Come closer. See what happens.”
What can I say, I see cartoon characters in real animals. This is why I paint the way I do.

I have considered this photo and the painting I have wanted to create for years. I even have a title for it: The Ringleader. The finished piece will be 7 or 8 of the goofy, stunned faces filling the canvas, with the sinister ringleader in the middle, staring down the viewer.

The big challenge isn’t painting the faces but making them look like they belong together. That’s why I’m working on seven faces in the same file. The ringleader herself is a separate file that I started earlier this week.

I haven’t yet got to the stage where I compose them into the finished piece, but I’m getting there. Once they’re each in position, I’ll need to paint more hair and fur to blend the faces as they overlap. There won’t be any bodies or paws because this painting is about the faces filling the space, but I will paint a few tails coming in from the sides and bottom.
I’m happy with how it’s turned out so far, and I’m also hoping to offer the finished piece as a puzzle later this year.

I’m used to working on one painting, start to finish, posting it, printing it, getting it licensed, and moving on to the next one. While quality is my main concern, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t think of quantity.
So, when I’m working on several paintings at once and more involved pieces featuring multiple animals or more detailed backgrounds, paintings that take much longer than a whimsical head and shoulders portrait can be uncomfortable. It feels like I’m not getting enough done.

However, I’ve realized in recent weeks that there is a silver lining in working on multiple pieces simultaneously. Each painting gets time to rest, and when I open a project I haven’t touched in a week or two, the deficiencies or problems jump off the screen. That’s good because it reveals areas of the image I need to improve.

Last Friday morning, I opened this goofy gallery of Ring-tail Lemurs for the first time in a few weeks. I laughed out loud at the ridiculousness of the seven faces on the screen and said, “They look so stupid.”

And I meant it in the best possible way.

Would I have had that moment if I hadn’t let the painting rest? I doubt it. My comical critters surprised me. What a gift.
The finished piece will be a lot more detailed than the images in progress you see here. But the vision for what I’m trying to achieve is clear in my mind, and I’m having fun discovering each of these faces.

All that’s left is hours of painting to bring them to life.

Cheers,
Patrick