In June of 2023, I finished a painting of three giraffes called Long Neck Buds. It was a real challenge. I had never painted acacia leaves and thorns before, and I still remember how satisfying it was to figure them out.
Each giraffe started as if it were its own painting, fully rendered and detailed. I moved them around in the scene, added the foliage and background, and worked in the shadows and highlights to make them look like they actually belonged together.
If you’d like to see more about how that came together, that original post is here.
When I finished it, I remember thinking that any one of those giraffes could have stood on its own.
Sometimes I paint something just because I feel like it. Maybe I enjoyed getting the reference photos. Maybe it’s a subject I’ve never tried before and want to see if I can pull it off.
Other times, I choose an animal because I think it might appeal to my wholesale customers and licensing clients.
My Sasquatch was one of those. Mike at Pacific Music & Art had asked for it. When I talk about that painting at shows, I often joke that the hardest part was the weeks I spent in the woods of northern BC trying to get reference photos.
Truth be told, it’s not one of my favourite paintings.
And the actual hardest part was making sure my version didn’t look like somebody else’s. I referenced Harry and the Hendersons and the Jack Link’s Sasquatch specifically so I could steer clear of them.
And still, lots of people call mine Harry when they see it. Not because it looks the same, but because that’s the only friendly Bigfoot they know. It’s the same reason people used to call my shark Bruce from Finding Nemo, even though the only thing they share is that they’re great white sharks.
At the Christmas Market, a few people said my Spa Day painting looked like Baloo from The Jungle Book. Others say some of my bears remind them of Brother Bear. My style is completely different, but what people are reacting to is the feeling.
The Sasquatch did well, but mostly in places where that folklore resonates. Zoos and Discovery Wildlife Park didn’t want it, which makes sense. Pacific Music & Art has done well with it, and Harlequin Nature Graphics licenses it on a T-shirt.
As a print, it never really found its footing, so I retired it in that format. But it still sells as a sticker at markets and here in Canmore at Stonewaters. The only way to know what will resonate is to put it out there.
The sweet spot is when I paint something for commercial reasons and end up genuinely loving the result. The porcupine I finished last week fits that category. I had never painted one, but several wholesale clients told me they’d carry it if I did. After sharing it, I received a lot of kind emails from subscribers who really liked it. I never know ahead of time which paintings will connect.
Long Neck Buds still does well, but single-animal pieces often perform better at zoos and markets. Giraffes are reliably popular, so creating this print felt like an opportunity worth exploring.
I chose the middle giraffe and spent a few hours Saturday morning refining it. More detail. A slight softening and tweak to the expression to bring out more personality.
I’m pleased with how it turned out and looking forward to seeing how it’s received.
It also gave me a new print to include in the first PDF catalogues I sent to my wholesale clients earlier this week, and another image available for licensing.
On Monday, I sent Gentle Giraffe, Bear Boop, and the Porcupine to my printer in Victoria for their first proofs. I’m restocking the online store and gearing up for the Calgary Expo in April.
I’ve got several other paintings in progress, but my priority right now is to make some headway on three dogs I’m painting for a very patient commission client.
Cheers,
Patrick
Another Banff Christmas Market is in the books.
Highland Cow, Snow Queen, Otter, Sire, Kodiak Cub, Raven on White, and Winter Wolf were all popular again this year. Spa Day, one of my personal favourites, seemed to find its audience this year and was more popular than it has ever been. It ended up as my second best-seller after Highland Cow.
After the first weekend, I was disappointed that my latest Snowy Owl painting didn’t seem to resonate, but it was a slow burn. By the end of the market it was in the Top 10 out of the 40 paintings I had on offer, so I’ll gladly take that win.
The week after the 
I’m an introvert, like a lot of artists I know. I’m most comfortable working alone in a quiet place, so after all the noise and interaction, plus an incredibly busy schedule for the past couple of months (when I was already running on fumes), it takes a toll.
Ending the year painting a grizzly bear face will hopefully help me take some first steps toward better perspective. None of us gets out of this alive, and I’m desperate to use my time better.
This past week, Shonna and I headed north to visit her Dad and family. It’s a seven-hour drive from here, and we haven’t been up there in quite some time. We planned these dates awhile ago, and thankfully both of our workloads were a little more manageable right now, with good weather for the trip.
Every time I take the camera out, I learn something new, usually by making a mistake. This time, I left my new DJI Action Pro 5 in the car, not wanting to keep everyone waiting. That was foolish, since this kind of trip is exactly what the camera is designed for. I could have clamped it to the windshield, pressed record, and left it running. Instead, I relied on my phone for short video clips.
None of the shots from the river are good enough for reference, but I never know where inspiration might come from. Seeing wildlife in the wild is always worth it.
Even without the river encounters, we enjoyed some friendly domestic critters. Shonna’s parents’ dog, Jetta, is a classic rural yard dog. Her job is to bark at strangers, but once she warmed up, we were fast friends. I like that her grey matches mine.
Shonna’s brother’s dog, Tess, is a bundle of energy with no slow setting. I’m surprised she sat still long enough for me to take a photo. Go ahead, try to take the puck. I dare you.
But the star of the show was their new kitten, Minnie. Already a people cat, she was affectionate, vocal, and had an intoxicating purr. We joked that they would have to check our bags before we left to be sure she wasn’t coming home with us.
Whenever I photograph dogs or cats, I want to paint them, and Minnie was especially photogenic. I now have some strong reference shots, though with commissions waiting and a list of wildlife paintings underway, I don’t know when I’ll get to them. That is why the idea of ever retiring feels ridiculous. There are too many animals to paint.
On the way home Wednesday, we stopped at the cabin I often rent with friends so I could finally show it to Shonna. I had checked ahead and the owners said we were welcome to drop by between guests. Shonna and the owners have heard plenty about each other, so the introduction was overdue.
I’ve been working on a commission of three cats, and it’s coming along well. The client has provided some valuable feedback on the images I’ve shared so far. I’ve also recorded a bunch of the process, written the video narrative, and I’m still working on that video and the painting itself.
I based this little fawn on reference I shot at 
People often ask what it means. If I’m that solitary dot in the middle, my best chance of connecting with others is through my artwork, represented by the bear claws. But just as important is the reverse, where nature, wildlife and the world around me deliver the inspiration to create more art. 
I have been frustrated the past few years that it seems I can never get as much done as I would like to, still failing to find traction. I have too many ideas, too much ambition, and little time to do it all. As fiction writers need to aggressively edit and ‘kill their darlings’ to make for a better story, I must abandon some things to make progress on the ones that mean the most to me.
I haven’t painted anything in a month and needed to get back into the groove. These were supposed to be rougher sketches, but it’s difficult to stop once I get going. These are neither sketches nor finished paintings, but somewhere in the middle.
I’ve used a polar bear or two in cartoons about climate change. And when Kevin Costner was the parade marshal for the Calgary Stampede in 2022, I used my portrait of his Yellowstone character, John Dutton, in a cartoon.
The Calgary Herald currently runs my cartoons more than any other daily newspaper in Canada, and they’ve been publishing my work for more than twenty years. How often, depends on how the editor of the day feels about my work in general. Everyone has their favourite artists.
If you’re coming to the Calgary Expo, I’ll be chained to my booth from opening Thursday to closing on Sunday. I set it up yesterday, and I’m ready for the chaos. Come by and say Hello!
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 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.
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.
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.
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.
Painting the wet look in this one was challenging because I had to decide where to draw the line. I could have added more rain in the background and foreground, but I’d risk it looking too busy. The same could be said for the water droplets I painted on the feathers. More definition might equal more distraction.
“How long does it take you to paint one of these?”
The spark for this painting was reference photos I took at the 
I did some drawings shortly after that and returned to them whenever I had the time. While Skoki was the inspiration, I used several bears in my photo archive as reference for the bodies and faces. If nothing else, I figured they would be good sketches for the book I’ve been talking about for years, but to my eternal shame, never deliver.
Once I had several sketches, I pieced them together, trying to find a composition I liked. The five grizzly bear buddies soon became five members of a family. It reminded me of a grizzly bear version of a Sears family portrait photo shoot. Refining the shapes so they fit together, and reimagining the expressions meant losing a lot of the sketch detail I had already drawn, but that’s just part of the process.
Many paintings begin as one idea but take on their own life while I work. I have no idea how many hours I’ve put into this piece, but it’s more than any painting before.
Rather than work in colour from the start, as with other paintings, I started this one in greyscale because I wanted to play with the values and experiment with the scene. Once I had a good starting point, I painted colour in the background and foreground, leaving the grizzlies for last.
Initially, the berries in the foreground were bright red. But when I showed this work-in-progress image to my buddy, Derek, at Electric Grizzly Tattoo, he suggested they might be a distraction from the bears. It was a helpful critique. So, I toned down the berries and made them a deeper burgundy and blue.
As brown bears come in many shades, from dark brown to red to blonde, I had initially planned to have a more noticeable colour difference between the five. But it looked weird, and I didn’t like it, so I erred on the side of more subtle variations in fur colour.
One of the nice things about working digitally is that at the end of each painting session, I can look back at the image when I opened the file and compare it to progress at the end of a session. It’s often a big difference, and that’s satisfying. However, when a painting nears completion, two hours of work may be barely noticeable before and after. That’s usually how I know it’s time to call it done.
Deciding whether I like a piece or not takes time, but I’m pretty happy with how this turned out. I liked my 
Because of the current uncertain economy, I’m not yet committing to doing puzzles again right away. But when I do, I think this grizzly family is worthy of consideration.