Musing
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Dreaming of Mud: how I start new work
detail from Earth Star, mixed media collage As soon as one group of paintings are done I start wondering what’s next. Lately I find myself wishing for more earth, more grit into my work. This is an idea that comes from analysis, critique (by myself and others), and an...
Make It Weird: what I’m looking for in my work
Studio thinking chair with art journal and fountain penAfter most painting sessions I sit in my thinking chair and write. Sometimes I engage with problems in a painting—and note ideas of how to resolve the piece. Other times I note something I see in a painting that...
Depth and the Dilettante: balancing my creative urges
WHEN I WAS A LITTLE KID my brother sat me down and played the album Aladdin Sane for me and I was hooked. The music was good, the lyrics intrigued, and of course the album art was fascinating. Later I came to admire his adventurousness in his ever-changing music, but...
Alone in the Studio: getting closer to myself
I love meeting folk at an art fair, hearing what collectors are looking for, finding out what they see in my work, and sharing my inspiration. But the challenging and often joyful work of creation happens when I’m alone in my studio. As I work away, with no one...
Sharing: an integral part of my process
Then... In my teens and 20s I wrote poems and stories, made visual art—but I didn’t share my work. I had a few poems published, but I found creating and sharing stressful and confusing. The vulnerability of it all was too much for me and I didn’t have any support. and...
Thanks, but no thanks: applying to juried shows
We thank you for your application... Recently I got the dreaded thank you for your application email. You know, the one where there were a record number of applicants, thanks for a thoughtful submission, and we hope you’ll apply again next year… For artists of all...
Finding My Way: discovering my visual language
I don’t get to choose I don’t choose what I paint or how I paint it. Sounds odd. Let me explain. What I mean is that I don’t sit down and decide, “I will paint how I feel about the river—and I will use these colours and this kind of brushstroke.” I’ve tried being...
Immersion: getting in over my head
I’m crazy for water My first memory takes place underwater at Dixie Pool in Lachine, Québec. I slipped on the silver ladder and for a brief moment I saw a new world beneath the surface—my family’s legs and a distorted sky. (I was quickly rescued.) My parents were both...
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