
It seems funny now to think back to my first little 4”×5” Wacom Intuos tablet in the ’90s. The first drawing software I used with it was a great little program called Painter Classic, and I only used it because it came with the tablet. I am not a hoarder, so I recycled it a while back, but took some photos for the memories.
Eventually, I got Photoshop and have been shackled to Adobe’s subscription model ever since. Remember when we were allowed to buy stuff, instead of renting it forever? Yeah, it’s a sore spot.
While software and hardware have come and gone in my decades-long career, I’ve always drawn on a Wacom tablet or display. I started upgrading Intuos models as they came out, but at some point, I set my sights on an early Wacom Cintiq.
For those unfamiliar, the Intuos tablets are pressure-sensitive drawing surfaces connected to your computer, mapped to your screen. You draw on the tablet while looking at your monitor. It sounds awkward, but it isn’t.
You don’t stare at your mouse when you use it. Same concept.
Plenty of pros still create amazing work that way. I keep a spare in my office and could probably still do my full level of detail on it. I should test that claim one day.
But I wanted a Cintiq, a display on which I could draw directly on the screen. I’d seen them in art magazines and behind-the-scenes features about movie concept artists.
At Photoshop World in Las Vegas in 2010, I was thrilled to win the Guru Award for Illustration and Best in Show. When they announced the prizes, they said I’d won a Wacom Cintiq 12WX display, a smaller version of the large one I use now. So, I went to their booth on the trade show floor, eager to pick it up, and that’s when I met Pam.
It turned out the prize was actually a tablet, not a display. The announcer misspoke. Hey, mistakes happen, and I didn’t want to make a scene. But Pam told me she’d see what she could do, and the next morning, they said they’d honour the announcement.
That’s how I got my first Cintiq, because Pam made it happen.
Over the past 15 years, I’ve had several chances to work with Pam and Wacom. I’ve done demos at Photoshop World, been part of webinars, and recorded videos for new products. Once, Wacom even hired me to demo their gear at a packed event in Calgary. I remember opening a shipment of their displays and thinking, “What have I gotten myself into?”
In 2014, I gave a talk at the Banff high school about editorial cartooning and digital painting, and Pam supplied several Intuos tablets for me to donate to the school.
So yes, I’m loyal to the Wacom brand, but mostly to Pam. She’s been the constant, and has always been great to work with. When the right opportunities come up, ones I’m suited for, she still reaches out, and sometimes, new gear comes with the work. To the guy who bought his first tablet in 1998, that would have seemed surreal.
My loyalty to the products comes from experience. Wacom devices are built to last. In a world full of planned obsolescence, my Cintiq 24HD display has been on my desk since 2012. It’s massive, solid, and still does its job for me every day. Pam now calls it a dinosaur. She’s not wrong, as they’ve had several updated models since, but I love it like someone loves an old car.
Here it is when brand new, 13 years ago, along with my Otter in progress, still one of my bestselling paintings. Wait…is that a Blackberry?!
Last month, Pam asked if I’d do a video about their new Wacom MovinkPad 11. I’d already seen a positive review from another artist, so it was an easy yes. We worked out the details, and I was pleased I’d get to keep it. Sometimes that’s not how it works with demo products. She even included a case, which I would highly recommend as it functions as a little stand and pen holder, too.
Wacom will share the video I created a little later, but it’s already up on my channel, with permission of course. Rather than repeat what I said in the video, I’ll let you watch it.
But I’ll say this much: I didn’t sugarcoat it. This is the best mobile sketching display I’ve ever used, and yes, better than my iPad Pro. If I’d had to return it, I would’ve asked to buy it. They now have a larger MovinkPad Pro 14, but I honestly don’t feel like I’m missing anything. While the pro specs are impressive, I’m not as on-the-go as some people and don’t need something that powerful. This is the one I would buy, and it’s absolutely the tablet I wish I’d had more than 25 years ago when I was learning to draw and paint digitally.
Full disclosure: I was compensated for the video, and the sponsorship is clearly stated on my YouTube channel. But aside from some technical stuff, Pam gave me full creative freedom on the two variations of the video I recorded. This post, however, is mine, and it’s from the heart.
When politics, the news, and the noise of the world get to me, as it too often does, painting fur, feathers, and the little dimples on a critter’s nose is often the antidote. I’m at my very best when I’m drawing on a screen.
Enjoy the video.
Cheers,
Patrick



Each of my poster prints is hand-signed, and the Zoo got the very first print of my latest Snowy Owl painting. It’s always a nice feeling to see a new piece in print for the first time.
They also produce the calendar many of you look forward to each year. That means I get to sell my own artist edition while the same calendar reaches stores I could never reach myself. Some of you on Vancouver Island have even told me you already picked up your 2026 calendar before I got mine.
If you’ve ever bought a magnet or coaster from me at the
So yes, you have to spend money to make money, but placing large orders like these is a serious expense, often weeks or months ahead of actually selling anything. Anyone who’s ever kept retail inventory knows the feeling. It’s something I never get used to and it puts me on edge.
My last outstanding order, custom tote bags featuring my Christmas Bear painting, has shipped from Montreal by courier and is scheduled to arrive next week. Thankfully, that one’s unaffected and on track.
I’m also creating a project for
Here in Canmore, we got our first snowfall last Saturday. Most of it melted in the valley by Sunday afternoon, but the mountains stayed white for a few days longer. If this isn’t the best view from any Safeway in Canada, it’s at least in the top three. Helps (a little) to soften the shock of the ridiculous grocery prices around here.
But I was biking my errands in shorts again yesterday and snapped this pic of Policeman’s Creek.
The cover features one of my favourite new paintings, The Grizzlies. Inside you’ll find a mix of new pieces and some perennial bestsellers. I’ll let you know when they’re available.

You’ve all heard plenty about the three-cat commission I’ve been working on in recent months, so I’m pleased to finally reveal the finished painting of Fable, Mortdecai, and Jack.
While Mortdecai has some white in him, they’re all still black cats. Both black and white animals, wild or domestic, bring their own difficulties, mostly because they’re not really either. Black fur is defined by the light it reflects, and white fur has similar challenges. It’s the shading that gives the features depth and form.
Tobi, my client, has a thing for ravens. A lot of the art in her home features them, and I can’t say I blame her. Shonna and I admired some striking raven pieces on her walls when we visited. Shonna likes ravens, too, and longtime followers might recall the aluminum print photo I gave her for her 50th birthday. You can see and
Tobi has been following my work for quite some time. Along with other art in her collection, she owns many of my 11×14 poster prints and a few metal pieces. For this delivery, she had also ordered a custom 16×16 square-cropped metal print of my Winter Raven painting, along with the cat commission.
Commissions require a lot of back-and-forth. My clients need to be part of the process, otherwise I may not be able to deliver what they want. I’m fortunate that those who have hired me to paint their pets have almost all been engaged and enthusiastic. They dig up photos, share stories, and talk about personalities and quirks. All of it helps me do my best work.
Because I knew three cats in one painting would take more time than any other commission I’ve done, I shared work-in-progress shots with Tobi and with all of you. I don’t usually do that, but since she’s been following my work for so long, I knew she could tell the difference between sketches, roughs, and a finished piece.
Once the metal print arrived, this shot taken with a lot of light, I arranged to deliver it to Tobi’s home in Calgary. Shonna came along for the ride, and we enjoyed the reveal in person. We also wanted to meet the cats, of course, but in true feline fashion, one ran away, one watched us from up the stairs, and the third never showed. Our old cat Muse was like that, too. Great with us, no time for anyone else.
After wrapping up the three-cat commission I’ve been working on (and talking about) for the past couple of months, I needed a reset. Not a full break—but something without expectations, pressure, or deadlines. Just a chance to paint for myself again.









When people talk about art for a living, they usually mean the highlights—the big launches, the finished pieces, the stuff that looks good on a timeline. But this—the half-finished paintings, the licensing negotiations, the time made for ideas—this is the work.

This particular cartoon also featured a grizzly bear—so the best of both worlds. I signed both prints and shipped them yesterday.
I’m always surprised when I sort through reference photos, because often something I thought I had, doesn’t look as good when I get home. And then a random throwaway photo might spark a painting.
This little calf was painted from reference I took at the cabin a few years ago. I’ve since retired it because frankly it wasn’t popular, even though I enjoyed the work and like the painting. That happens a lot, where my favourites may not be your favourites.
But one evening on this visit, I noticed the neighbour’s cows hanging around his gate near the road, and shortly after this first pic, they clustered together and it struck me comical. So I took a bunch of photos, and though I’d work from several of the ones I shot, I think there’s a painting here. Already thinking about how long it would take, but this is a marathon, not a sprint.
I’ll have to let it simmer a bit, but whenever I hear that voice whisper, “hey, look here,” I try to pay attention.
And while I still spent too much time in my own head, thinking about work and worrying about things I can’t control, the setting and company helped me turn down the volume for a few days.
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.
I’ve been working on a big
Meanwhile, I haven’t finished a new wildlife piece in a while, and that’s eating at me.


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.

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
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.