Posted on 8 Comments

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

Posted on 2 Comments

Sharper Focus and Closing Books

After a lifetime of saying I’d never get one, something my buddy Darrel has delighted in reminding me since, I woke up on a September morning in 2017, wanting a tattoo. It was my design, and I figured I’d get it somewhere like my shoulder. Rather than object, and much to my surprise, Shonna suggested that if it meant that much to me, I should get it where I could see it.

It was great advice, and I enjoy seeing it on the inner forearm of my drawing hand. It still has profound meaning for me and has become the logo for my business.
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. 

A fortunate byproduct of getting that tattoo, and probably the best part, was my introduction to the tattoo art world and making new friends with some incredibly talented people. My friend Derek, one of the most skilled and generous creatives I know, has helped me become a better artist. Several of his clients have become my customers.

Tattoo art fans will wait years for an opportunity to have their favourite artist use their bodies as a canvas. Hanging out at the tattoo shop, I’ve met people who have travelled from all over the world to Electric Grizzly for Derek’s artwork. Many tattoo artists have such fans. Sometimes, their wait list becomes too much, and the artist can’t keep track. When that happens, they often post on their website or social media that Books are closed.

That means they’re trying to manage their time, serve the clients they’ve already booked, and prevent their schedule from getting out of hand. Their books may stay closed for months or open briefly to fill a cancellation.
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.

Editorial cartoons remain a daily commitment, along with sales and marketing. I need to write posts, maintain my website, communicate with clients, pursue licensing opportunities, package and ship online sales and do my bookkeeping. That stuff doesn’t often change.

But it’s the long-game projects where I’m failing, and the only way to correct that is to decide what’s important, at the expense of all else.

This week, I started on sketches for a commission of three cats. I recorded some more of a painting for an upcoming video. I shipped tote bags and print orders, and I drew cartoons. I resumed an online course on Adobe InDesign for Illustrators so I can try, try, try again to make some progress on the book, which is also why I made time for these bears this week.
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 have another commission for three dogs on deck and have agreed to paint another dog a little later for one of Derek’s clients, who became one of my collectors.

I did not get as many wildlife paintings done last year as I wanted, which bothered me. I have too many works-in-progress waiting for my attention. So, to borrow from tattoo parlance, my books are closed. I can’t take on any more commissions, projects, or distractions that hinder my progress on these priorities.

Hopefully, in the coming months, you will see more new pieces from me and a sharper focus on the work I want to do most.

Cheers,
Patrick

Posted on Leave a comment

Post Expo Perspective


The Calgary Expo is always exhausting but usually a positive overall experience.

This year, I went into it feeling burnt out, mainly because of how closely I’ve had to follow the rapidly changing news lately and how much it has personally bothered me. I think I foolishly thought Expo might fix that.

Many things that could have gone wrong in preparation and execution went as well as expected. I got my hotel and booth early, load-in went well, there were no problems with setup, and it seemed off to a good start. Even my new payment system worked flawlessly all four days.

But earlier in the week, I realized I wasn’t looking forward to Expo like usual. I went into it feeling a little desperate for a good show. So, when sales were slow, and the whole vibe felt off, I considered it might be my fault, that I was failing to project the right attitude.

Talking with other vendors throughout the weekend, however, with a noticeable drop in customer traffic, it quickly became apparent that it wasn’t just me.

We couldn’t help but speculate amongst ourselves — what was going on?

Was it the new layout? The events portion of the show moved to the second and third floors of the new BMO Centre. In previous years, attendees would end up in retail spaces while moving between panels and talks. When people left those scheduled events this year, it seemed like many just went outside or crowded the exterior aisles on their way to somewhere else.

Perhaps it was the economy. With all the bad news flooding across the border these past few months, people are nervous and watching their money. It seemed like many had less to spend, and I saw far fewer new people in my booth than I’m used to. I’ve never seen a quiet Saturday at the Calgary Expo; it’s usually a crazy busy day. My best sales day this year was Friday. That has never happened before.

I’m used to each year proving as good or better than the year before. I’ve never had a down year. My friend Ryan had a booth a couple of aisles away from me. He was right when he said, “Every year can’t break records.”

Because I keep meticulous records and inventory, I know that this year’s sales were down 16% over last year. That may not seem like much, but this is an expensive show. The price of my booth, electrical, insurance, parking and hotel all went up this year. So, depending on the year, the first 35% to 50% of sales cover that initial expense. That’s before I factor in the cost of my product.

For this show, 16% off the top is significant. I didn’t talk to one vendor who said their sales were good this year.

The show was still well worth my time and investment, and on the last day, I rebooked for next year as I always do.
At the show’s end, tearing down took about an hour and a half. But the line-up of cars to access the loading docks was ridiculously long. I have a sturdy hand dolly that transforms into a robust cart. It was quicker for me to haul my booth out in three trips through two large halls to the other side of the building where I had parked my car. That took another hour, but it was better than sitting in a long line of vehicles for all that time.

I’ll admit that I felt a little sorry for myself on the drive home Sunday night, that the show wasn’t as good as I’d hoped or expected. But after some sleep and time to reflect, I have corrected my perspective.

While the goal is always to introduce my work to new people and find new subscribers, and there weren’t as many of those opportunities this year, the best part of Expo is all of you who keep coming back to see me year after year.

With a sincere hand-on-heart, I want to thank my many repeat customers, collectors, subscribers and supporters who showed up this year.

I met several people who came to the show just because they read about it in A Wilder View, some of whom I met for the first time. I often think what I write on my site and in my emails is self-indulgent drivel, but you keep telling me that you look forward to each email and enjoy what I share.

One enthusiastic subscriber who’s been buying my calendars from Australia for several years just immigrated to Canada and came to Expo to meet me for the first time. In an email exchange after the fact, he said, “You’re such a positive and inspiring person.”

Feroze, are you sure you’re reading MY emails?

I kid.

Even though this is precisely what I always wanted, I’ve never been comfortable with so many of you having my art on your walls or stickers on your cars, kayaks and water bottles and that you say such nice things about my work and writing.

Many of you have way more prints, stickers, magnets, coasters and other pieces than I thought you did.
Though I saw them all weekend, Tracy and Sheldon took these photos of their collection Saturday night and shared them by text. They rotate their prints in what they call Critter Corner. When I saw these photos, I joked that I felt like a drug dealer and it might be time for an intervention, especially since they bought more prints and tote bags this weekend.

You two would be dangerous if you weren’t such lovely people.

I was reminded this weekend that so many of you have large collections. You know who you are, and I only refrain from listing all your names because I would forget somebody, and I don’t want to offend anyone.
Long-time collectors also bought canvas, metal and acrylic prints this weekend. I have more of those orders to fill this week. I talked with former commission clients and ones whose paintings I’m just about to start. I got the usual gentle pressure about the book, which I never seem to gain traction on, and a few offered welcome suggestions on which animals I might consider painting next.

I can’t adequately express how humbling it is that you enjoy my artwork this much.

So perhaps I needed a lesson this year at Expo that even when sales are down, it is just one event in one year, and it comes and goes so quickly. All of you who continue to allow me to do this for a living, whether you can show up to Expo to show your support in person, were already here before the show, and you’re still here afterward.

I need to remember that it’s a gift that, once a year, I get to see so many of you in person. Because every time I do, you make me want to make more art.

Thank you.

Cheers,
Patrick

Posted on 4 Comments

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. 

Posted on 9 Comments

Elbows Up, Canada!

Canadians aren’t happy.

Better writers and speakers, more educated than I, with decades more experience and insight in the political arena, are trying and failing to explain why Donald Trump does what he does.

I certainly don’t have the energy to write a lengthy essay trying to figure him out. I’m too busy, too tired and too angry. I wrote a post the day after the U.S. election, and somebody sent me an email accusing me of Trump Derangement Syndrome. I wonder if he still thinks people like me are overreacting. Or if he will in a few months when his job might be at risk.

I take solace in the emails I’ve received from many of my American subscribers, expressing sympathy for our plight. It’s appreciated because even though the President is lashing out at every other country he can think of, he’s saving the worst damage for his own.

Many Americans are on my subscriber list, some following my work for decades. I’ve known several of them for over twenty years through my association with the now-defunct National Association of Photoshop Professionals and several trips to Vegas for Photoshop World. I bear no ill will toward any of you, and most Canadians would say the same to all their American friends and family members.

Our beef is with the unprovoked attack on our sovereignty and economy by an overgrown child who clearly will never get enough attention to satisfy his fragile ego. The President of the United States has been verbally and economically threatening Canada for months now. By his own admission, he wants to end our country and take what remains.

Surrender isn’t an option, so we must fight back. That means reciprocal tariffs on U.S. products. American liquor has been removed from store shelves across the country. Canadians are cancelling vacations to the U.S., and this trade war we didn’t want has launched a nationwide ‘Buy Canadian’ campaign.

Between Shonna and I, I’m the heart-on-sleeve half of this relationship. Like many artists, I’m an emotional person and overly sensitive about a lot of things. Shonna’s usually more stoic, feet planted firmly on the ground. But she was the one who ordered Canada flag pins for us to wear.

I’m tempted to compare this new national wave of Canadian pride to that which swept the country during the Vancouver 2010 Olympics, but that was joyous. This is not.

Canadians are pissed off. Our closest neighbour and friend has attacked us for no reason that makes any sense. And we’re trying to figure out how to handle it.

Winning the 4-Nations hockey series was a big deal. The outcome of that final game meant a lot more to Canada than it did to the other competitors, even for those who aren’t usually hockey fans. After months of Trump’s 51st state threats, we needed a win, even a symbolic one. Last week, Mike Myers delighted Canadian viewers of Saturday Night Live by wearing a T-shirt on stage for the traditional all-cast farewell. It read CANADA IS NOT FOR SALE, and he gestured while mouthing the words, “Elbows up.”

It’s a hockey reference, meaning the gloves are off, and it’s time for a fight. It has since become a Canadian call to arms. This far, no further.

Hey Gretzky. You watching? This is how it’s done.

I’m drawing a LOT of cartoons about this issue. I’d like to see other news stories rise to the top, but as the following cartoon shows, good luck with that. Just like in 2020, one topic dominates. Who would have thought I’d miss the pandemic? At least with the virus, it wasn’t personal.

I have art licenses with American companies. Some of them I acquired through an American licensing agent, and while I ended that association a couple of years ago, many of the licenses have term limits and contracts I must honour.

For other licenses and companies based in the U.S., I’ve had great relationships with these people for many years. They’ve treated me well, paid for the use of my art, and to attempt to punish them for the actions of their President, somebody they may not have voted for, would be foolish. Good licensing contracts are hard to find, and relationships are formed over a long time. They also come with legal contracts that are in force for years.

I have a new license I signed with an American company last year. It was an exciting opportunity, and the products are still pending, so I can’t reveal anything yet. I can’t simply end those contracts, nor would I want to. I would be shooting myself in both feet, all because one selfish politician has a default setting of ‘asshole.’

Eventually, Donald Trump will be out of office, one way or another. After that, we’ll have to pick up the pieces. Canada’s former friendly relationship with the United States will hopefully recover, but it will take time. It’ll be hard to forget how insulting and painful this has been for Canadians, and it has only just begun. We’re looking at four more years of this nonsense.

I’m pleased to see the Made in Canada patriotism sweeping this country. The reciprocal tariffs launched by our provincial and federal leaders are the only response possible because you can’t reason with an unreasonable person. Who would have thought Donald Trump would do more to unite Canadians than anyone in recent memory?
Thankfully, I was already on board the Buy Canadian wagon. The poster prints in my store have always been made in Canada, first by three companies in Calgary and most recently by Art Ink Print in Victoria. Harlequin Nature Graphics on Vancouver Island has the apparel license for some of my bestselling images.

Have you ever bought a magnet, coaster, or calendar from me? How about a mug, water bottle, trivet or art card in places like the Calgary Zoo, About Canada in Banff, or many other retail and gift stores in Western Canada, Alaska or the Pacific Northwest? Those come from Pacific Music & Art in Victoria.

My vinyl stickers, metal and canvas prints are made in Ontario. The new tote bags many of you are excited about are currently in production in Montreal.
I have always strived for Made in Canada with the products I sell.

There is a distinction, however, between Made in Canada and Product of Canada. You can read about that here. Though they’re Canadian companies employing Canadian workers and printing the artwork here in Canada, many of my suppliers and printers get their paper and product blanks overseas from China and Taiwan. The backer board, cellophane sleeves, art bio labels, shipping envelopes, and many other parts and pieces I use are sourced from different places. Try as we might, some things aren’t manufactured anywhere in this country. Americans are about to find out how many of their products rely on Canadian and overseas imports. As those prices go up, I hope they express their displeasure to their elected representatives, especially those sycophants who surround their golden god.
So, we do what we can to fight the fights worth fighting with the tools and weapons we have on hand.

Nobody knows where we’re headed in this ridiculous trade war, how much damage it will do, or how deep of a debris field it will leave behind. We don’t want to win the war. We just want it to end. What is certain is that Donald Trump’s game of “Let’s Make a Deal or Else” is going to hurt a lot of people inside and outside the United States.

During those joyous 2010 Vancouver Olympics, Tom Brokaw explained Canada to Americans in this video. This is what both countries stand to lose.

____
©Patrick LaMontagne 2025

Posted on 2 Comments

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

Posted on 1 Comment

Cartoons Amid the Chaos

As many of you know, my art business consists of editorial cartooning and whimsical wildlife paintings. My syndicated editorial cartoons used to provide a decent full-time living, but with the decline of newspapers, it’s now less than half of my income. Fortunately, my painted work keeps growing and carries more of the load when it comes to paying the bills.

But editorial cartooning is still a big part of my job. The images you see in this post show the different stages of each cartoon I draw, this one about the unwelcome trade war Canada now finds itself in with the United States.
Each week, I draw five or six syndicated editorial cartoons. I follow regional, provincial, national and international news and draw illustrated commentary on prominent stories. Many of my weekly clients across Canada only run my cartoons in their publications, some for over a decade. Other clients, especially daily papers, will pick and choose from submissions from several cartoonists. Despite the belief that journalism is unbiased, it most certainly is not. Some newspapers lean left while others lean right.

Prime Minister Trudeau is deeply unpopular everywhere in Canada, so most newspapers will run a cartoon that casts him in an unfavourable light. But, sometimes, I will draw a cartoon that calls out a right-leaning leader, like Opposition Leader Pierre Poilievre or Alberta Premier Danielle Smith, and even as I draw the toon, I know that some of my Alberta newspapers won’t run it.

Editorial cartoons are not unbiased, nor are they supposed to be. Just like a written opinion piece, the cartoon is my perspective. Some readers will agree with it; others will not.

In addition to my syndicated work, I draw one weekly local cartoon for The Rocky Mountain Outlook, the newspaper of record for Banff, Canmore, Lake Louise and the rest of the Bow Valley. I’ve been their cartoonist since day one in 2001, and it’s a point of pride that I have never missed an issue. It’s rare that the cartoon on the editorial page isn’t about an issue close to home. While the Outlook has mostly supported my work for many years, each idea is subject to my editor’s approval. I don’t own that spot on the editorial page and can’t simply draw whatever I want.

With syndication, however, I have free reign. It’s then up to my newspaper clients to decide whether they want to run a cartoon I submit. If one rubs them the wrong way, they get four or five others that week to choose from.
Years ago, I recall that somebody in Canmore came up with a proposal that each business in the community should contribute to a tourism promotion fee. Some businesses complained they shouldn’t have to because they weren’t in the tourism business.

Even if you only ever see locals in your business, if they work in tourism, then so do you. Without tourism to pay your customers, your customers can’t pay you. If tourism suddenly vanished around here, so would most businesses in town and the people who work in them.

This weekend, in an unjustified demonstration of selfish aggrandizing aggression, the President of the United States levied a 25% tariff on all goods from Canada, with 10% on energy. I won’t get too deep into why none of this makes sense, but one easy objection is that this is not about fentanyl trafficking, as he claims.

A Homeland Security Commission in 2022 concluded that “Canada is not known to be a major source of fentanyl, other synthetic opioids or precursor chemicals to the United States, a conclusion primarily drawn from seizure data.”

A 2020 DEA intelligence report stated, “While Mexico and China are the primary source countries for fentanyl and fentanyl-related substances trafficked directly into the United States, India is emerging as a source for finished fentanyl powder and fentanyl precursor chemicals.”

Canada wasn’t implicated by either agency. But it’s hardly surprising, because the President changes his reasons for the tariffs with each passing day. One day it’s fentanyl, then immigration, then a wildly exaggerated trade deficit number that he calls a subsidy (it’s not), and today it’s that “Canada doesn’t even allow U.S. Banks to open or do business there. What’s that all about?”

It was another false claim that was easy to debunk, as the Financial Post did within two hours of the President’s declaration. US banks have been operating in Canada for a long time, one for more than 100 years.

You will have no trouble finding educated insight into this recent tariff issue, especially from economists and business leaders on either side of the border, who say this will be incredibly damaging to the economies of both countries.
Canada and the United States have had a unique, enviable, and friendly relationship for longer than any two countries. We’ve often referred to each other as family. We’ve had our ups and downs; every relationship does, but it has always endured.

This unprovoked schoolyard bully attack has Canadians upset and angry. The 51st state nonsense is insulting, rude and childish, especially repeated ad nauseum over the past few months. But we hoped it might pass, and the President would find other means to distract his supporters from his false promises to make their lives better. Shouldn’t at least those voters be his primary focus? Because this ain’t that, regardless of how he paints it.

Tariffs will not decrease grocery prices in the United States. Those prices are going to go up, as they will for cars, furniture, gas, heavy equipment, and many more components, parts and products that Americans import from Canada. Even the average oil change in the US will likely increase by 30%. Tariffs will impact purchases most people never even think about, and those in Congress more concerned with keeping their titles and salaries than serving their constituents know it.

But hey, their financial security isn’t in jeopardy. Not yet.

Realtors in Florida and Arizona are seeing more second homes on the market than in years as Canadians leave communities, no longer feeling welcome in the United States. My parents lived in Arizona in the winter for over a decade. A hairdresser once told my Mom she had to get a part-time job during the pandemic when Canadians couldn’t travel south.

Canadians represent 27% of all international visitors to the US, contributing $16.4 billion in 2018, according to the US Travel Association. Whether talk translates to action is anyone’s guess, but I’ve heard several Canadians say they won’t take a U.S. vacation anytime soon. Why go where you’re not welcome?

Buy Canadian stickers are now popping up all over Canada, and trade barriers between provinces will likely disappear, as they should have years ago. It’s ironic that an unwarranted attack by our closest trading partner might do more to unite Canadians than our own politicians have managed in recent memory.

The tariffs levied against Canada this week and our retaliation measures will severely impact both economies, and some experts suggest that Canada may fall into a recession. And just like businesses in this valley who didn’t think they were in the tourism business, Canadians and Americans will soon find out just how much it’ll hurt all of us when people in other professions start losing their livelihoods.

Late Breaking Edit: As of Monday afternoon, the threatened tariffs have now been delayed for 30 days following a phone conversation between Prime Minister Trudeau and President Trump. This is not a reprieve. Canada remains under the same threat.
On Saturday, I paid my deposit and applied for the Banff Christmas Market this year. While anything can happen between now and the end of the year, I’m already lowering expectations. I’m currently sourcing and buying stock for the Calgary Expo at the end of April, but I’m no longer planning on some products. I don’t think people will have money to spend on luxuries, and my work certainly qualifies.

It’s clear this manufactured conflict will continue to escalate and dominate the news for the foreseeable future. People have suggested to me, that with all this fresh material every day, I must love the return of President Trump.

I can assure you I do not.
____
©Patrick LaMontagne 2025

Posted on 2 Comments

The Ticking Clock

New subscribers usually follow me for my whimsical wildlife art. They’re often unaware that half of my business, about 40% these days, is drawing syndicated editorial cartoons for daily and weekly newspapers in several Canadian provinces. In addition to painting my wildlife art, I draw six or seven cartoons each week.

A short time ago, I wrote a post about my disappointment at the outcome of the US election. For my email subscribers, I prefaced it with a clear statement that the narrative they were about to read was political. I suggested that subscribers who’d rather not read that opinion piece could close the email, and I’d have something more up-tempo for them later.

Of course, one subscriber who kept reading (his choice) and didn’t like it, sent me an email that read, “Nobody cares about your TDS, JUST DRAW PICTURES. I am embarrassed to own your art work now, stop it.”

TDS means Trump Derangement Syndrome. I had to look it up.

The loudest advocates for freedom of speech are almost always talking exclusively about their own. Because I long ago learned the lessons about the futility of online arguments, I didn’t respond, and he unsubscribed.

Though the following is not political, it’s not upbeat. It’s not a New Year’s post that this will be the best year ever! Some might consider it dark and sombre as it puts a harsh spotlight on the fact that we each have an expiry date, and none of us knows when that is.

If you’re not up for that kind of read, this is your exit. Drive safely. We can meet up a little further down the road.

Still here? Your call.

I saw a news article this week titled The Celebrities We Lost in 2024. Many on the list I hadn’t heard about their passing or had forgotten I’d seen it. True to my nature, I noted each cause of death. It happens once you reach a certain age; you realize that, yeah, it’s coming. Unfortunately, I began ruminating on my pending demise years earlier than I should have, a consequence of OCD and anxiety issues.

I’m not afraid of death. I imagine, for many, it’s like going to sleep. You’re awake, then you’re not. Out, brief candle, and all that. If there’s something afterward, I’ll find out then. I am, however, terrified of failing health, physical infirmity and cognitive decline. The shit you think only happens to other people can and will happen to you or those you care about.

I am also afraid of regret, a life unlived, and unrealized potential.

I don’t care if I’m remembered. Most of us aren’t. I once read a conversation where the question was asked, “What was your grandfather’s name?”

Upon receiving the answer, the follow-up question was, “What was his grandfather’s name?”

Very few of us could answer the second question correctly, and that’s the point.

If I’m going to be here, and if it doesn’t matter much in the cosmic timeline, I’d like to do something worthwhile, or at least fool myself into thinking so.

So far, I feel I haven’t.  Sadly, that perspective means I’ll likely never feel like I’ve done enough because I couldn’t even tell you what that means. Whatever laurels may come, I will never rest on them. Retirement doesn’t appeal to me. I need to keep busy. It’s the only way to turn the volume down on the noise in my head.
On that list of celebrity passings, for the ones that didn’t say, I found myself looking up their causes of death. Mostly, it was the usual suspects I don’t need to list. They’re the indignities of disease and illness that can strike any time but become more likely the longer we’re here.

And I found myself looking at their ages; the ones that stood out were those around my own. We view the world from the space and time we occupy. I was once an arrogant 20-year-old who viewed 40 as something that happened to other people.

My Dad’s brother and their father both died at 53, the age I am now. While both were consequences of vice and bad habits, I didn’t realize how that fact has coloured my perspective for much of my adult life. Whether I registered it or not, I have long viewed my fifties as old age. Even though I am in good physical health (mental, the jury’s still out) and barring any skeletal spectre’s finger settling on my forehead, odds are I have many productive years ahead of me and miles to go before I sleep.

Regardless, I have long heard a ticking clock. And when the bell tolls, I won’t ask “Why me?”

It means I don’t often enjoy moments as they happen because I’m a pessimist by nature. I know that good or bad, young or old, fate does not have a conscience. It doesn’t discriminate.

My wife’s only sister was 20 years old when she died, thrown from a horse. She was an experienced rider, and it was bad luck that it happened in the wrong place. Five feet in any direction, and she might have been fine. It was a simple accident, and suddenly, she didn’t get to experience all the little things most of us take for granted.

And yet, some very nasty prominent people amass obscene fortunes through nefarious means, exploiting millions of people they’ll never meet and live well into their senior years. We might kid ourselves that money doesn’t buy happiness, but it sure as hell buys comfort and health care.

Life ain’t fair. Never has been.

So, while I may not always enjoy the little things as I should or stop and smell the roses, I have no delusions about my time here. It can end today or in forty years, likely in a manner I don’t see coming.

I know it’s an unhealthy perspective, but at the end of each year, I often look back with regret for the things I’ve wasted my time on. And for the failures, of which there are many, I take a deep breath and with a furrowed brow and through clenched teeth, resolve to try, try again in the year ahead.
Though clichés and platitudes, there are lessons I clearly haven’t yet learned, that I’d do well to remember heading into 2025. Perhaps they’ll give you something to consider as well.

You can’t change other people. You can only change yourself. To many you know, your value is only what you can do for them, and they have assigned you a specific place and position in their life. You are the average of the five people you spend the most time with. Some want to see you grow. Others want you to stay right where you are.

Change never happens when you’re comfortable. Discomfort is often a necessary trigger to motivate sedentary people into action, especially when you’ve finally had enough of whatever you can no longer tolerate.

If you do the same things, you get the same results. Blame is easy. So are excuses.

Your job will be posted before your obituary. How you spend your days is how you spend your life.

I don’t know about you, but I have spent far too much time watching television and following unimportant news stories designed by an algorithm to trigger my negative emotions. It is nobody’s fault but mine because I allowed it and kept returning for more.

If you want to spend less time on your devices, then spend less time on your devices. The choice is that simple. You break a bad habit by replacing it with a better one. And yes, it’s hard to do.

There are 8 billion people on the planet. Expecting them to see the world exactly how you do is foolish and arrogant. We are each the product of our genetics, upbringing and experiences; no individual life is a copy of another. And yet, out of fear and a need to feel secure in our choices, we might call somebody else stupid if they choose to drive a different car than we would.

Stand in someone else’s shoes. Consider that you might be wrong.

Don’t take criticism from people who would never take it from you.

Success means different things to different people. You won’t know what winning looks like if you’ve never lost. There is a price to pay for everything. Nothing worthwhile happens without effort and sacrifice. They don’t engrave how many likes and shares you got on your tombstone.

Most people aren’t thinking about you. They’re thinking about themselves. What a relief. Live your own life. Let others do the same.

We’re all on different paths but most definitely heading to the same destination.

Time’s ticking.

Good luck.
____
©Patrick LaMontagne 2024

Posted on 2 Comments

The Third Christmas Market and a Visit from the Grinch

Last week was a challenge.

Of all the things I didn’t want to bring home from the Banff Christmas Market, the common cold was near the top of the list. I don’t get sick often, but when I do, it’s usually a full beating of a man cold. This one wasn’t fun, but it was better than most, and I had a few days to lay low at home before the third market. I felt a lot better on Friday but was still symptomatic, so I revived one of my tiger masks to prevent spreading the fun.

When I could tell people couldn’t hear me well and I had to speak up, I apologized and explained why I was wearing the mask. Some said they appreciated my not wanting to spread my cold. Others thought I was wearing it as part of the animal theme. I got many compliments, and somebody even asked if I was selling them.

I had ordered some replacement metal prints that sold the first weekend, and they were supposed to be here by Friday. On Tuesday, after Purolator said the package had arrived at the sorting facility in Calgary, they revised their tracking to say the package was delayed due to weather.

Vendors and attendees from Calgary said the roads were great, and I could find no evidence of a weather issue on that route, especially not one that lasted three days.

Many people are experiencing delays as the couriers deal with overflow and increased demand. The Canada Post strike has screwed up shipping all over the country at the busiest time of year. But when people are already pissed off at a situation, don’t lie to them. It’s insulting.

The Purolator package arrived at my door Sunday afternoon. I’m glad the weather finally cleared up.

Mike at Pacific Music & Art cobbled a rush order of Highland Cow magnets and calendars so I would have them for the last two weekends. UPS said they’d be here by Friday but that morning, they revised their tracking to, you guessed it, Monday.

I had ordered enough replacement stock for two market weekends. I now need to move them in one. As of Saturday morning, I had three calendars left, and those went quickly.

Despite a slow start on Friday, it was an excellent weekend for sales. As I’ve now sold out of a few prints, I’m retiring some to make room for new paintings next year. Others I’ll wait to restock until just before the Calgary Expo. These are some of the immediate retirees but more are coming.
I never know which paintings will become popular and which ones won’t resonate with people. Or sometimes people will like an image, just not as a print to hang on their wall. The only way to find out is to create the painting, release it, and see what happens. When I retire an image in print, it means it will no longer be available on my site or at markets.
Sometimes, a print will become popular for a particular venue, like the Calgary Zoo. My Rockhopper Penguin does very well for them because they have a penguin habitat their visitors enjoy. But that print has never done well for me at markets or the Calgary Expo.
My Sasquatch painting is a popular licensed image for Pacific Music & Art, as they have customers all over the Pacific Northwest, BC, and Alaska. Harlequin Nature Graphics sells the image on T-shirts and has been a good seller for them for years. And while I have sold several prints of that image, it’s never been a bestseller for me.
Art Ink Print in Victoria has been professionally printing my work for years, but they’re a small business, too. They require a minimum order for each image, or it isn’t worth their time. If I continued to stock several different prints that don’t sell well for me, it would cost me more than I would make to keep them in stock to have them on hand for the one or two that might sell at each market or online.
Even when I no longer sell a print, my licensing clients may still offer the image on their products, and my wholesale customers may still order prints from me to sell to their customers. I just have to require the same minimum orders from them that my printer requires from me.

It’s tough to retire prints. I’ve spent many hours on each painting and get attached to each one. This little rat has always been one of my favourites. But when your art pays your bills, you’ve got to make tough choices.
My next-door neighbours, Noble Coin Rings out of Innisfail, are fun to work with. I was beside them last year for my two weekends at this show, and the organizers put us together for four weeks at this one. They also do the Calgary Expo.

We get along well; there are plenty of inside jokes, inappropriate comments and smartass exchanges. We’ve each requested the same spots for next year and the same neighbours. It would be hilariously perfect if we found ourselves next to each other at the Calgary Expo in the spring, but it’s unlikely at such a big show.

One of the things that has affected public perception of my work lately is how much AI has suddenly become a part of our lives, especially for creative professionals. Once these markets are over, I will focus on finishing two paintings before the end of the year. After that, however, I’m planning a video to talk about artists having to adapt to this new technology.

The first time somebody asked if my work was AI was at last year’s Banff Christmas Market, and it surprised me, though it probably shouldn’t have. For years, one of my lines while introducing my work has been, “No photos are part of my work. I only use them for reference.”

In the early days of my career, many assumed that if you were drawing or painting on a computer, you must be manipulating photos and using filter effects. I used to get my hackles up, bite back the bile, and explain that I don’t do that. Each painting begins on a blank digital canvas and involves many hours of brushwork.

Because enough people are asking at this market, I now must add, “No photos or AI are part of my work.”

A great part of the personality of the Banff Christmas Market is the atmosphere they’ve created. It’s like a little Christmas village, with decorations everywhere. Families can book photos with Santa; there’s live music in the courtyard, woodburning fires with blankets, plenty of seating, games, and entertainment. They’ve also set up several creative photo opportunities. And if all that wasn’t enough, trains fly by several times a day, gently shaking the building.

I’m not big on Christmas, but this atmosphere softens even my crusty Scrooge exterior.

Which brings me to the Banff Christmas Market Grinch.

This character roams the show in great makeup and costume, posing for photos. Whoever plays this role owns it and is doing a great job. He’s fun, delightfully nasty, and has a quick wit.

On Saturday, he was going from booth to booth in our part of the show, loudly cackling his insults, impossible to ignore. At some point, I had turned my back to my booth while talking with my neighbours, so I missed him walking up and looking at my artwork.

Suddenly, behind me, the Grinch loudly said, “Wow, AI has really come a long way.”

As if poked with a sharp stick, I spun on my heels and snapped, “Hey, these are NOT AI!”

My neighbours began laughing, and I immediately knew I’d been baited and caught. Like any good comedian who realizes he’s pressed the right button, he took it up a notch. He loudly announced to everybody within earshot, “Attention. I need everybody’s attention. I have an announcement. Pat-a-rique (deliberately mispronounced) is not using AI. Because Pat-a-rique is AN ARTISTE!”

The rest was a blur. I just stood there, blushing, laughing, and taking it. After a few weeks of too many people asking if my work is AI and calmly explaining through clenched teeth that it’s not, he had struck a very raw nerve.

You’re a mean one, Mr. Grinch. But damn, it was funny.

Shonna finally got to visit the market on Sunday. She approached my booth and asked, “Are these AI?”

It’s a good thing she’s cute.

There’s one more weekend to go. Though I have sold out of some prints, I still have a wide selection of metal, canvas and poster prints, magnets, postcard sets and coasters. And my calendars and Highland Cow magnets have finally arrived. I’m feeling much better and look forward to seeing more familiar faces and meeting new ones.

And if you hurry, you might just see a whimsical wildlife painter (it’s NOT AI!) revealing the tiniest bit of Christmas spirit.

Bah, Ho, Ho, Ho,
Patrick

Posted on Leave a comment

Bitter Blunders and Bedtime for Bears

Because I haven’t released a new painting in a while, I did not want to publish yet another post promising something new down the road. So, here’s a new piece: a weary-looking grizzly bear in the snow. I’m calling it Bedtime.

I had planned on sharing a different painting this week. Here’s why that changed.

Over the past twenty-plus years of my art career, both as a syndicated editorial cartoonist and a digital painter, there have been plenty of times when something I’ve drawn hasn’t worked out the way I had planned.

The beauty of digital drawing and painting is that it’s often easier to fix mistakes. I can create a new layer, play around and experiment; if I don’t like it, I delete it and try a different direction. Most creatives are familiar with happy accidents, something unexpected that improves an image. It happens all the time.

There’s always an element of discovery in any illustration or painting.

On the flip side, an image can sometimes become an exercise in frustration. Years ago, a bighorn sheep painting had me pulling out my hair. No matter what I did, I couldn’t get the curl of the horns to look right. They were either too flat, distorted, or just wrong, and every time I messed with them, I’d have to spend hours repainting the detailed texture I ruined.

It’s hardly a unique story. Every artist I know goes through this. For traditional artists who paint with oil, acrylic, watercolour or airbrush, it’s even worse. Sometimes, they try to fix something that isn’t working and get to a point where they’ve just ruined any chance of recovery. The canvas ends up in the trash, and they start over.

I began a painting of a group of Ring-tailed Lemurs months ago. I thought it would be finished this summer and again this week. I can’t begin to estimate how many hours I’ve spent on this painting. It has been one disappointment after another. But I finally got through the other work and deadlines holding up my progress and recently spent several mornings on it.

I was within what I thought was two or three hours of finishing, then realized I didn’t like it. That’s a hard truth to admit when I have invested so much time into a piece.

On my iPad, I took it to my buddy Derek at Electric Grizzly Tattoo. He’s a talented and skilled artist, and we sometimes ask each other for an unbiased eye. I can always count on his constructive criticism and willingness to help me produce a better piece of art. I do my best to return that generosity in kind, and when asked, offer my own thoughts on his paintings.

While Derek liked the individual faces, he agreed that the composition had problems. It was tough to hear, but it confirmed what I already knew.

After I got home, I spent a couple of hours messing with it, still trying to save it. But it was a gut-punch realization that I’d almost have to start from scratch. If I released the painting as is, knowing the obvious problems, even if others like it, I would hate it every time I looked at it.

So, while I’m not quite back at square one, it’s close. I’ve been sketching over the piece and trying new things, and I’m already much happier with the composition.

Reworking it, however, meant destroying what I had already painted. I must redo all the fur and hair, the detail in the muzzles and eyes, and add other elements that weren’t there before.

Whenever I finish the newer version, I will share more about this process, including what specifically I didn’t like and my thoughts on what I needed to change. I will also show you the piece I showed Derek and share why we both felt it didn’t work. But I don’t want to do that until I reveal the finished piece so you can see the comparison.

Anytime you do something creative, there’s a chance it won’t work. Authors have had to discard whole chapters and rehash plotlines when an editor has their way with a novel. Chefs have prepared complicated and ultimately inedible meals from experimental recipes. Filmmakers have spent years creating box office bombs.

As Benjamin Franklin said, “I didn’t fail the test; I just found 100 ways to do it wrong.”

If you’re not prepared to fail, you’ll never succeed.

So, I set the lemurs aside this week and began this bear piece on Tuesday as a palate cleanser before I jump back into the other works in progress I have yet to complete, including those lemurs.

Because when life hands you lemons, paint a grizzly bear.

That’s the saying, right?

Well, it works for me.

This Thursday, I’ll be one of 150 vendors setting up for the Banff Christmas Market. That evening, a locals’ preview event is already sold out. After that, from Friday to Sunday for the next four weeks, you’ll find me in my booth at the Banff Train Station, offering prints, calendars, coasters, magnets and stickers. Tickets are only available in advance on their website, and they go quickly, especially on Saturdays. I hope to see you there.

Thanks to so many of you who have purchased calendars already. I’ve been getting those orders out as soon as they come in, so if you’re waiting for yours, they’re on the way. If you still want one (or two, three, four…you get the idea), you can get them in the store while supplies last.

Cheers,
Patrick