Sunday, 15 December 2024

THE IMPORTANCE OF ART


A society without art, is a dead society. 


 I can't imagine living in a society devoid of art. I was born into a family that had little to no interest in the arts. Their main concern was food on the table, and a roof over one's head, with a steady job, no matter what, in order to achieve this goal. 

That I would have an interest in the arts came about when I was a mere child, and a great-aunt came to visit my grandmother, setting up her easel in the summer kitchen, and magically, with a box of colours and a canvas, proceeded to paint an imaginary landscape. From that moment on I began to appreciate that there was more to life than just having a job, and taking home a paycheque. As a boy I dreamt about becoming an artist, and that I did, but only years after getting a "job", a dream kept alive by learning to appreciate art in all of its forms. 

I became an artist and have been fortunate to practice this trade for several decades. Did it provide for me fame and fortune? Definitely not, but the study, and the making of art, has enriched my life beyond my childhood dreams.

So, my message to those that may contemplate becoming artists, don't be dissuaded by the reality of the struggle, but embrace the opportunity to be a part of those helping to make society the interesting and wonderful world that we're privileged to enjoy.



Step #1

I recently picked up my brush, dormant since Covid, to see if I still knew how to make a watercolour painting. Since Covid, and our having to shelter in place, I've been writing quite a bit, neglecting painting, and, as well, I seem to have grown old in the interim giving reason as to why I should. I decided to make a few small paintings as practise, starting off with a pencil sketch.



Step #2

We're slowly adding a bit of colour, and slowly building up my courage to plow ahead and finish, so that I can get on with the next painting...



Stage #3 - Frood Lake, Algoma.

For all intents and purpose this small painting is finished as it will be framed as a small painting to the edges of the image. Now, it's on to the next small painting, Christmas gifts should I get them finished in time....



Provoking Lake - Algonquin Park
Pencil sketch



Island - Provoking Lake, Algonquin
Watercolour Painting 2024





Friday, 29 November 2024

AUTUMN


Sunrise - Pen & Ink Sketch  11/2024
 


AUTUMN

On the horizon there’s a faint sliver of light,

that  slowly grows ,announcing 

the end of night. 


Leafless trees lining the shore of the northern lake ,

are reflected in its cold still water.


The sky turns to hues of red. 


The sun shyly rises above the horizon, its warmth 

stirs the cold still water, and wakens mist,

that swirls across the lake, like ballerinas, 

they greet the morning. 


And then, it’s over. 


The sun in all its glory

frees itself from the horizon. 


Frost,

that settled throughout the night 

retreats, the ballerinas, slowly return 

to the cold still water.


 Raven,

wakened from its slumber by the light,

greets the silence of the morning, 

and soars to heights from which to view,

remnants of the night.


Autumn on a northern lake.


SILENCE IS DEAFENING



Storm Brewing  - Oxtongue Lake  Pencil Sketch.  November 2024

Several days ago, despite the fact that it was mid November and cold, we travelled to Algonquin Park for a few days. To reiterate, it was cold, minuses in the morning sometimes with heavy frost and with day time temperatures never reaching the teens celsius. Still, it was very enjoyable. There was no getting out of the car and sitting sketching. I'm old, and 4C with a windchill too cold for these old bones, but I did manage a couple of sketches from inside the car. Also, on the plus side we experienced something that most who visit the park never experience, quiet. We stopped at Canisbay, Smoke, and Opeongo, Lakes, parked, turn the motor off and listen to the silence. It was deafening, no bird songs, no wind in the pines, just overwhelming silence. A bit eerie to not hear something. An experience to remember.

We're home now, the sounds are overwhelming, cars racing back and forth to the local school dropping off, and picking up children, dogs barking, people chatting, car radios blaring, squirrels chattering, kids screaming....I do wish that I was back in Algonquin. No doubt by now, should one park beside a northern lake, you can probably hear the snow falling......





 


Monday, 23 September 2024

LIFE - SHORTER THAN YOU THINK.

                           Canisbay Lake, Algonquin Park.     Pencil Sketch       September 2024


I'm aged, in my 80s, and with failing health I find myself confined to sketch at the side of lakes, or some comfortable spot in parks while we picnic. How I hate getting old. Makes me wish that I had spent more time doing this and that, instead of putting off until tomorrow.

Anyway, we made it up to Algonquin Provincial park and spent a few days making  the odd sketch. I'll post others in days to come, but in the meantime here's a pencil sketch made at Canisbay Lake. Of note, the park wasn't as busy as in past years. There were only a couple of cars with canoe racks parked indicating that there were few doing overnight or weekend camping further up the lake. I'm inclined to believe that an increase in park admission fees, as well as additional permits required, are having an effect on numbers visiting the park. 

While Sandy explored I parked myself on a picnic table bench and did a quick sketch looking up the lake. The leaning cedar at the side of the lake near to the canoe launch caught my eye bringing back memories of another leaning tree, a huge White pine that once grew on the point depicted, and over time, a period of years, increasingly leaned before losing its grip on the side of the bank and fell into the lake. No doubt this large cedar will suffer a similar fate. Whether I'm around to see it, perhaps not, as even if I'm still breathing, future sojourns to the park are unfortunately are for me becoming doubtful.

I mention this simply to remind those of you who may stop by, that it's not wise to put off doing something important until tomorrow, and tomorrow. Make memories while you can because, as life when you're young may seem long, it's really much shorter than you think.....and then it's over.



 

Tuesday, 3 September 2024

THE SKETCH


Pen & Ink Sketch  Awenda Provincial Park.    July 25,2024


Hopefully, sometime in the next few days we'll be heading up to Algonquin Provincial Park to do a bit of sketching. Now, important to realize that a sketch is simply that, a few lines, a bit of colour, and not a detailed painting. In fact a sketch, is a sketch, is a sketch, a thought, and idea, quickly expressed and kept as a possible source of information to assist with something more detailed for a future work of art. The sketch, however is not to be thought as just a few lines and a splotch of colour to be tossed away, but a true piece of art, for the real art is in its spontaneity and contains your reaction to the environment.  Should by chance you're not pleased with your sketch, believe that you've failed in your attempt to capture the moment, don't for the moment think to toss it, no, save it, as you will be amazed to find years from now that the memory of that moment has been saved, and the whisper of the pines, the call of a loon, still live within your scribblings.

I have a friend of sorts, a fellow Scottish artist, Leo du Feu, whom I've never met, but with whom I've corresponded and follow on his blog. He has published several videos about sketching worth watching...

 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=S8ouuVLoWqc&list=PLkQd5bEV59uJYkIXIDSq9QHz_l5cSm2RT&index=3

As I mentioned, hopefully, we'll make it up to Algonquin allowing me to make a few sketches to share with you in the coming weeks. So, those of you who are interested, and who have not stumbled into my site in search of someone else's art, stay tuned.


Wednesday, 7 August 2024

AWENDA PROVINCIAL PARK 2024



Awenda Provincial Park is situated in Ontario, Canada, and is close to the town of Penetanguishene. The area is steeped in the early recorded history of Canada, but my interest is all about its access to Georgian Bay. As a boy I'd go up to what is now a provincial park and hide along hide amongst the cedars that line the shore and hunt migrating waterfowl. Now decades later, uncle Joe long gone, we visit to picnic, and relive memories of wonderful times in our youth spent swimming in its clear waters. 

The other day a perfect summer day, not too hot, and not too cool, we travelled to the park to picnic on the beach, and relive some of those wonderful years. It was very windy, and the waves crashing along the shore reminded me of a time one August years ago, when it was so windy and cool that we had to take shelter in the dunes back of the beach while watching swimmers brave the huge waves. Memories, so precious....

Despite the wind blowing the pages I managed to steady my sketchbook long enough to capture a couple of quick sketches......new memories to add to past memories. 



View of the point of land at First Beach  Awenda Provincial Park.  Pencil sketch July 25, 2024



View of The Giant's Tomb island from the First Beach.              Pen & Ink sketch  July 25, 2024  




 

Saturday, 6 July 2024

DID I MAKE A MISTAKE

 



Did I make a mistake?


When deciding to become an artist, whether young, or say middle-aged like me, one has to decide what kind of artist that you want to be. A difficult decision to make, especially should you be young, and really don’t know what direction to take, and even whether you really want to be an artist. Of course the easy route is to get your teaching certificate, and surround yourself with others who want to be, but are reluctant to make the commitment. Teachers, if I could make a comment, I find quite amusing. They stand before students who have committed to become artists, portray themselves as dedicated artists, when they are reluctant themselves to commit. Anyway, that said, back to this idea that once one leaves the safety of art school, one must decide direction. To embrace art for art’s sake, ever hopeful of creating art historically significant, and finding a place in history is admirable, but it’s also setting one up for failure, and a life of, often, misery and doubt, the starving artist route best taken if your parents are wealthy and supportive. Then, there’s the commercial side of art, interior design, exterior design, and making art for the common people. The latter can be seen at art festivals and on street corners listening to stories from passersby, who reveal that their aunt Minnie also makes paintings, and actually sold one last year for $50.00. You can also work hard and become selective in your subject matter. Become known as a portrait painter, and be represented by a gallery. A good way to go, if you're very good at what you do. Soon, however, you’ll realize that although the pay is sort of good, you’ve lost sight of your dream of becoming the artist that you thought that you might be. And then, there’s someone like me. I aspired to make a boyhood dream a reality, got caught up in the reality of survival, tried the festival route, the gallery route, and the home studio route. Nothing really seemed to work. One then questions why you left a good paying job to risk everything. In my case, however, being close to what would be considered in the work-a-day world, the retirement age, I decided to put my efforts to work encouraging the protection and preservation of our natural heritage. I decided to paint , or perhaps it might be described, record, various parks and places, and create a visual record of the now for the future, a means to compare changes. I sketched and painted in wild places, recording my efforts in books, which I personally published. I sold many sketches, and donated many to charitable organizations. There were moments of satisfaction, temporary attention for my work…..and now I’m about to disappear. My choice, my direction. Not for everyone, but still my choice. Of course, it would have been nice to have some of my art recognized nationally, but such is fate, and although my sketches are unique and do leave a record of what was, they never stood out enough to become historically unique. So, I don’t know whether I properly explained the difficult choices that face those wanting to work at becoming an artist, but there it is. Not at all easy….no regrets.







Wednesday, 3 July 2024

NOT EASY

 




NOT EASY BECOMING AN ARTIST


I’m going through boxes containing picture frames, art supplies, and hand coloured matted etchings attempting, with more than a little difficulty, to decide what to keep, and what to relegate to landfill. I pause, and look at the prints. 


When  I was active, years ago now, in the art industry, I sold many hand-coloured etchings. I had to, as I was competing with handsomely framed reproductions, the sellers of which promising that the asking price of $300.00 - $400.00 was cheap considering that they were destined to increase in value. Of course the general public not knowing better, and really having little to no knowledge about art,  lined up to get their share with dreams of future profit. Sadly, it soon became obvious that owning number 1,500 of 15,000, whether signed or not, was simply a hoax. In time the reproduction market crashed leaving the buyer with something akin to a calendar with virtually no value. That no one went to jail for this fraud has always been a mystery to me. 


So, back to my hand-coloured etchings/aquatint prints. It’s very true that I produced them in quantity, probably 15, or 20 of each, but it should be taken into account the fact they were produced by me, by hand, and hand-coloured by me. Each was unique, as colouring was done with watercolour, and to get two prints exactly alike was nothing short of impossible. Beside, I purposely made each a bit different. So for a vey modest $40.00 - $60.00 one could purchased a matted original work of art. Unfortunately, I was up against the fact that most that wandered by my booth had no idea what an etching was, nor art for that matter, and were simply interested in finding something decorative.


About  the art of etching did you know that its beginnings started back in the time of the Renaissance , way back in the 1400s. Believe it or not artists back then had much the same problem of making a living as they do today. You see, most of us cannot afford a $500.00 - $1,000.00 painting. With that in mind in order to survive one has to have a cheaper, affordable, product, which the etching, from which you can get multiple prints, became the answer. When I mention the fact that you can get a multiple print from a single effort, it’s not that simple. First of all there’s the question of the work involved in producing the plate. The plate, made from either copper, or zinc, must first of all be sized and prepared, with a  with an asphalt ground. An image is then transferred to the plate, and with a needle scratched through the ground baring the metal beneath. The plate is then immersed in an acid that eats away at the exposed metal, etching the image into the plate. Using turpentine, the  asphalt ground is removed from the plate, the plate is inked, and the plate is wiped clean of all ink save the ink in the etched lines of the image. The plate is then placed on the bed of a press. A dampened watercolour paper is laid over the plate, which is then covered with a piece of felt, and the plate is run through the press. If you’ve done everything right you end up with a reverse image on the watercolour paper. In the case of the print being hand-coloured, the print is allowed to dry overnight, and the image is painted with watercolour. To obtain several prints, the same plate is re-inked and printed for every print. Should the image be tonal it would need a coating, or coatings of resin melted on the surface of the plate to act as a resist, the white areas are then lacquered out, followed by repeated immersions in acid before  the plate is ready to print. 


Of course, the story doesn’t end here, the hand-coloured print must be matted and shrink wrapped, and then taken to market. Depending upon the market chosen, at art fairs, or an art galley, there are fees and commissions to be paid. If I were to sell the print myself from my studio I would receive 100% less material expense. If I were to sell the print at an art fair, or through a galley, I would receive approximately 50% of the retail value. With each print taking approximately 2-3 hours to produce, and the retail cost ranging from $40.00 - $60.00, one can see that life as an artist is a challenge, and in some ways, even though reproductions were/are really not art per se, just calendars,  you can’t blame the many for leaning towards  producing and sell reproductions. I too was tempted, but apart from a couple of half hearted failed attempts very early in my career, I held onto my belief in the value of “real” art. Anyone that purchased one of my prints possess the real thing, and a piece of my life during my time spent working at becoming an artist.


I wonder, as I realize that I really have no choice but to surrender my dream, whether anyone really cares, and if I’m simply deluded in thinking that my efforts were of some importance. I wonder?
















Friday, 24 May 2024

A NEW BOOK: SKETCHES


For your interest I've just finished putting together and publishing what will probably be my last book. I've  written and publish some 20 books over the years, and find with ageing and becoming less mobile, I've about run out of material to produce yet another. 

This last publishing is a bit of a random collection of sketches and drawings taken from my files, a means to archive a few of my efforts, as well as a means to share some of my efforts over the years with my readers.


I publish through Blurb Publishing, a print-on-demand publisher. I self publish receiving a book copy for myself, and leave the books with the publisher to sell. I choose to receive no royalty as from past experience I realize that art book, and poetry book, sales are something less than great, and any monies received could create a tax problem , coming from the U.S.  I make the books available in paper book as well as digital form. The digital copy can be reviewed online in its entirety for free. Give I a whirl. The PDF form is also very economical should you wish to have a copy, about $6.00 U.S. . 

 

Sunday, 14 April 2024

AS I AGE



I'm ancient, there's no way around it. My body aches all over, and my eyesight is dimming. My hiking and paddling days are over....but I still have my memory, a bit hazy at moments, but still there, allowing me to revisit places I've been, and places I've seen. Memories, so important.

Days, sometimes long, are passed doodling memories, much like being there making a sketch, and reliving moments long gone. No better way to pass the time than to let your mind wander, and paddle up a channel on a northern lake that you promised you'd revisit one day, but never had the time. 

It's meditation of a sort, doodling. There's no pressure to get it right, just push the pencil here and there, scribble a line, and make it come alive....if only in your mind. 


















Tuesday, 26 March 2024

MAY 2023


May 24, 2023: After what seemed a long winter we decided to spend a few days up at the Blue Spruce Resort located at Dwight, Ontario on the shore of Oxtongue Lake, which is 10 -15 minutes away from Algonquin Provincial Park. May is usually on the cusp of Black Fly and the mosquito season. We were lucky, during our stay we encounter neither, however, it proved to be bit cool, and we did most of exploring from the warmth of the car.

The Blue Spruce Resort, actually a resort only in name as there are few amenities, and no dining facilities. One has to haul all of your food, as well as decent drinking water from home, but this said we've been going up there using it as a base to explore Algonquin for several decades. Recently, the resort was sold from its original owners, and changes are expected, leaving us to wonder if, since we were getting a bit long in the tooth, whether this might be our last year. It's now, as I write 2024, also at the end of a long winter, and we've all but decided that this year may well be our last. It's the end of an era. Good times, and lots of memories. The park has also changed from easy going to regulated, but newcomers will never realize any change and will create, as we did, memories of near wilderness adventures.

For this year we'll head up there in the late summer and try to make a number of sketches, contemporary in nature. I use the term contemporary as, frankly, I'm quite tired of realism, and as I'm now aged and don't have a long future I wish to explore a bit. So stay tuned and check in from time to time and see what I'm up to......