Category: Paintings

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Licensing Spotlight: My Animal Art in the Happy Color App

In 2022, X-Flow Games reached out to license my artwork for a paint-by-numbers app called Happy Color. I hadn’t heard of it at the time, it’s not really my kind of thing, but I don’t often find licensing clients; they usually find me.

You can usually tell pretty quickly whether a company is going to be a good fit. My contact at X-Flow was friendly, professional, and well-versed in licensing. They had a solid contract, clear payment structure, and efficient process.

While most licensing agreements are royalty-based, paying monthly or quarterly based on sales, some companies opt for a flat fee for time-limited use. That’s how X-Flow operates. Since Happy Color is free to download and monetized through ads and in-app purchases, the royalty model doesn’t apply.

My art wasn’t released in the app until two years after our initial discussions. That kind of delay is common in licensing. Each company has its own schedule for product launches, and while my work may be part of it, I’m not involved in the rollout or marketing. My only job is to stay quiet until they go public.

I’m fortunate to have a loyal group of subscribers and supporters of A Wilder View. I’ve often written about shady companies that steal artwork, and how difficult it can be to deal with that. As a result, many people are quick to alert me when they see my work somewhere unexpected.

So when Happy Color released The Charmers’ Club last year—a collection of ten of my animals—I actually found out from several fans of the app who asked if it was legitimate. I was happy to confirm that yes, it was authorized, and that I could finally promote it.

Earlier this year, I spoke with Happy Color again. Someone new had taken over the conversation, but like her predecessor, she was professional, friendly, and easy to work with. Must be something in the company culture.

After some back-and-forth, they selected a new batch of images to license. The first collection had been well received, so they planned a larger promotion this time around.

Subscribers might recall a recent post where I teased two licensing opportunities I couldn’t talk about yet. This is the first one.
Once the new collection was finalized, X-Flow asked to interview me to help promote the current images and tease the upcoming fall release. I can’t share the newly licensed paintings until they do, but I’m looking forward to seeing them in the app again soon.

If you haven’t tried the Happy Color app, I recommend giving it a go. It’s a relaxing, pleasantly addictive little distraction. I’ll admit I had low expectations at first, but after colouring several of my own pieces, I get the appeal.

Below is the interview X-Flow released today in the app, you can see screenshots from their social media featuring my artwork and Q&A throughout this post. You can download Happy Color from Google Play or the Apple App Store and follow Happy Color on Facebook and Instagram. To read the interview on the app, go to their News tab on the bottom and you’ll see it there. At the bottom of the interview, it will take you right to my current collection, The Charmers’ Club.

Enjoy!

Interview with Patrick LaMontagne
From the Happy Color App

“Cartoony but Real” World of Patrick LaMontagne

Q: Patrick, your signature style—expressive wildlife that’s “cartoony but real”—is instantly recognizable. How did it all begin?
Believe it or not, it started with a bear. That first grizzly I painted back in 2009 wasn’t supposed to look whimsical—I didn’t even think in those terms back then. But people responded to it. So I painted another. Then another. And somewhere along the way, it became the work I loved most.
The phrase “cartoony but real” actually came from viewers at shows. The first time I heard it, I thought, yeah, that fits. Then someone else said the exact same thing. So I figured—if that’s how people see it, why fight it?

Q: Has living in the Bow Valley shaped your work?
Absolutely. That first grizzly bear was inspired by the wildlife here. We have them in our backyard. I love them—but I’m also a little scared of them. I don’t sleep well in a tent because of it.
This place, the Canadian Rockies, is a constant source of inspiration. The animals, the light, the landscapes—it’s all right here.

Q: What was it like seeing your work featured in the Happy Color app?
Honestly? At first, I was surprised. I looked at the app and thought, paint-by-numbers? People still do this?
Then I tried it—and totally got it. It was relaxing and kind of addictive.
When the first Happy Color collection launched, I hadn’t even announced it yet—but my subscribers spotted it right away. They were excited… and a few were worried it was art theft. It wasn’t—and I loved getting to share that moment with them.
Seeing my animals in that format was a joy. I loved how the collection was presented. I even coloured most of them myself.
Q: Let’s talk about joy. How does it play into your creative process?
I’d be lying if I said it’s always easy. Like a lot of artists, I’m my own worst critic. After hours alone with a painting, I start to focus on every flaw.
But then I share it. I see someone smile, or I get a heartfelt message. And suddenly, it’s not about perfection—it’s about connection. If my work made someone feel something, then I’ve done my job.

Q: What’s your creative process like, from blank canvas to final touches?
I keep things simple—just a few brushes. I start with a sketch, lay down flat colours, then rough in light and shadow. From there, it’s all about refining.
One trick I use constantly is flipping the canvas horizontally, along with my references. Artists have done it for centuries—it helps spot mistakes instantly. I swear by it.

Q: You were creating digital art long before it became mainstream. How has that journey evolved for you?
I’ve never been a traditional artist in the classic sense. I didn’t study oils or watercolour. I just liked to doodle.
My digital journey started in high school—pixel by pixel with a mouse on a Macintosh, just for fun. Then came my first Wacom tablet, bundled with Painter Classic. From that point on, I was hooked. Digital was my home.

Q: How do you stay authentic in an AI-driven world?
These days, with AI and filters flooding the space, I often have to explain that my work isn’t AI-generated. That the computer doesn’t “make” it—I do.
It’s frustrating sometimes, but it also motivates me to show more of my process. That’s one reason I’m focusing more on YouTube now.
Q: How do you know when a painting is done—when the character is “alive”?
Ah, the eternal question. Leonardo da Vinci said, “A painting is never finished, only abandoned.” I get that. There’s always another hair or feather you could tweak.
But eventually, the personality shows up. You reach a point where adding more doesn’t help—it might even hurt. That’s when I know it’s time to let go.

You can enjoy coloring Patrick LaMontagne’s collection The Charmer’s Club in the Happy Color app now.
A new collection is on the way this autumn—stay tuned for more wild and whimsical news!

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This Is the Work

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.

If you go through any videos, articles, or books about art promotion, you’ll find one consistent theme—be consistent.

It’s easy to promise yourself you’ll write and send a post each week on the same day. Actually doing it? That’s another story.

I’ve been meeting editorial cartoon deadlines every week for more than twenty years. Coming up with ideas isn’t as tough as it used to be, but I still have to draw and send a cartoon, no matter what—whether I’m feeling inspired or not, whether I like the idea or think it’s a dud.

Even though I usually write two or three blog posts and emails each month, there are times when I don’t have much to say. And when that happens, it’s easy to think, “I’ll get to it next week.”

But that kind of procrastination isn’t fair to everyone who’s signed up for this subscription ride, and I don’t take that for granted.

So, with lots in progress but nothing quite finished to share, here’s a bit of a dog’s breakfast of what’s on my desk and on deck.

PAINTINGS

I’m still working on those three cats. That’s normal for commissions—they take time, especially when you’re trying to capture three distinct animals in one piece. But I’ve finally found my groove this week, the fun part.

Thanks to some helpful (and welcome) suggestions from the client, their personalities are coming through. There are two black cats in the painting, each with a different look and vibe, and I was a little worried about pulling that off. That’s where back-and-forth with the client really matters. The more I learn about their features and quirks, the better job I can do.

The cats are now in the same painting rather than separate sketches, and when I open the file now, I don’t clench my teeth. I smile. That’s a good feeling. It’s not unique to this commission either. That’s the usual experience for most of my paintings.

I’m also working on a snowy owl, a grizzly bear, and a raven, all at various stages of completion. There’s a lot more work to do on this one, as I’m also recording the process on video, but here’s a sneak peek at the owl in progress.

LICENSING

It’s been a good couple of weeks on the licensing front. One international company I’ve worked with before came back with a new proposal. Since my first experience with them was pretty close to perfect, I was happy to jump into a new contract with them.

Another company I’d never heard of cold-called me with a very appealing offer to license my work. We’re in the “crossing t’s and dotting i’s” stage now.

Both companies are seasoned pros when it comes to working with artists. There’s nothing unexpected in the contracts, and most of it is just formality. In my experience, that’s typical. While it does happen, it’s rare to come across a company trying to screw you over.

I realize both of these updates probably sound like teases, but that’s the nature of licensing. I can’t talk about names or details until they launch, which could take weeks, months, or even a year. In the meantime, there’s work to do behind the scenes and it takes real time and effort.

The admin side of being a professional artist often eats up more time than most expect. But licensing is a solid revenue stream because it’s built on artwork I’ve already created, and it works well for me.

Diamond Art Club just released a new kit featuring my cheetah painting, my sixth kit so far. That one was a surprise, since it’s not one of my more popular prints. But they do plenty of research before launching a new image, and there was a demand for this one. I love working with this company, and there are more pieces in the pipeline. But they decide and let me know when I can share them.

EDITORIAL CARTOONING

A Calgary Herald reader saw one of my recent G7 cartoons and ordered a couple of prints. I don’t get a ton of editorial cartoon orders, but enough that I’ve built a good production system for them. I use the same printer who produces my metal and canvas prints, so the quality is always spot-on.
This particular cartoon also featured a grizzly bear—so the best of both worlds. I signed both prints and shipped them yesterday.

LIFE STUFF

Last weekend, I got away for a cabin trip with my buddy Darrel. It’s a good thing we book these months in advance—if I didn’t have the commitment (and the deposit), I’d probably find a too-busy excuse not to go. I know, wrong priorities, I’m working on it. Thankfully, once I’m there, it always feels like the right decision.

After years of getting up at 5:00 a.m., I can’t really sleep late anymore. Even without an alarm, and staying up later than usual, I was still up by 6 or 7. I tiptoed past Darrel’s room, showered, made some coffee to-go, and headed out looking for wildlife.

The morning walks were a peaceful start to the day. Critter sightings were limited—just some skittish white-tailed deer, a juvenile Cooper’s Hawk overhead, and cows. Lots of little birds singing in the trees, over a dozen species according to the Merlin app. One evening, a couple of Great Horned Owls were calling to each other. And in the middle of the night, coyotes howled from all directions. That last one is one of my favourite sounds in nature.
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.

We did our usual: cards, games, guitar, napping on the deck, and wandering the property without agenda. We had some (always welcome) on-and-off rain, a loud, windy thunderstorm with a bit of non-damaging hail, but overall, the weather was pleasant.
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.

I’ll have some new work to share with you soon.

Cheers,
Patrick

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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

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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

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A Cartoon for the Calgary Expo

The two sides of my business rarely intersect. But while there’s nothing political about my whimsical wildlife animals, I have sometimes used one of my paintings in an editorial cartoon. Just recently I used my Angry Bear painting in a cartoon about the stock market.
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.

The income from syndication comes from volume, where many customers pay a lower rate to run the same cartoon. When I draw a Calgary Expo themed cartoon, I’m not doing it for the money. It’s for my own enjoyment and to promote the event. I drew this Calgary specific Expo cartoon this year, knowing full well the only paper that might run it was The Calgary Herald.But it’s also fair comment about a positive event that brings a lot of people and revenue to the city. Though many refer to it as Comic-Con, it is so much more than that, a massive fan experience with 100,000 people coming through this show in four days. Some are there to get a celebrity photo or signature, others to add to their pop culture or art collections, and many come for the cosplay, to dress up and let their freak flags fly. I suspect most people come for the spectacle, to run away with the circus for a few days.

We’re in the final week of a federal election and defending against an unwarranted trade attack from our formerly closest friend and ally, so I had no idea if the Herald would run a silly Expo cartoon right now. But, I drew it anyway and enjoyed the work. While having coffee in my hotel room this morning, it was nice to see the cartoon published in today’s Calgary Herald.
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!

Cheers,
Patrick

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The Calgary Expo 2025

Artist Alley is part of most Comic Cons and Expos. As the name suggests, it’s a section for artists and independent creators. Each space is often a single, no-frills table, ideal for smaller budgets or those who fly to shows with only their product and a banner or two.

At my first Calgary Expo as a vendor in 2013, that’s where I planned to be. But a vendor I knew talked me into spending a little more money to get a Small Press booth. It had a bit more space and a pipe and drape backdrop between the booths. It was great advice, and I was in Small Press for the first five years.
This was my first year setup, and I was thrilled I got enough sales to cover my expenses. Shonna helped me out the first couple of years, but I’ve long been able to handle this show solo. She works hard at her own job, so I don’t need her to come and do mine, too.

While most of these paintings are retired, a few are still popular today in prints and with licensing clients. Nobody is more surprised than me.

Shonna and I laughed this week, talking about those first years. There were no YouTube videos to tell you how to prepare for a show or what equipment you’d need. There were no pay terminals connected to our phones; it was all cash sales. You had to learn by watching other vendors, looking at their setups, and asking for advice from anybody and everybody.

Fortunately, other vendors had been where I was and freely offered tips, tricks, advice and supplier info. I do my best to pay that generosity forward when newbies ask for help.

The Expo grew yearly, and Artist Alley moved to the Big Four building. As part of that redesign, they eliminated the Small Press section. I had to decide if I wanted to step backward and leave the main building or invest in more space, equipment and inventory and become a retailer with a full-sized 10’x10’ corner booth.

To this day, I still get people asking me why I’m not in Artist Alley. The simplest answer is that I like having more space and professional pipe and drape dividers. An artist in the retail section stands out more than one squeezed in among many others. I also pay an electrical fee each year to power my lights, a service not available in Artist Alley.
The BMO Centre has been under renovation for several years, and the show’s footprint has kept shifting. With the convention centre expansion and renovation completed this year, it’s a massive change, and Artist Alley is finally back with the rest of the show.

The other day, I chatted with a subscriber who works for a wholesale customer. She’s more involved in the online Expo community than I am and shared that some of the Artist Alley vendors were disappointed or upset that the show is now under one roof.

I understand their fear of change, especially if the divided venue is the only thing they know. They’re likely unaware the show only split when it got too big to contain itself. Putting Artist Alley in the Big Four building was a compromise, and back then, many were upset and disappointed at the split. This year, it’s a welcome reunion for those who remember the good old days.

As this is my tenth year, having experienced both options, I have no doubt that having the whole show back together will be an advantage for vendors and attendees alike. With no requirement to leave one building and enter another, people will spend more time in one place, which means everyone will get to see everything.

I hope the Artist Alley vendors find out it’s probably a good thing for them, and I want them all to do well.

Five days in one location means you can get to know your neighbours during the slower periods and before opening each day. I always learn something from other vendors, even if they’re new. I’ve had mostly good neighbours in my ten years of Expos, but occasional challenges have occurred.

Two years ago, a collective of three or four young women selling their costume jewelry had boundary issues. They pushed into my booth several times, threatening to knock my art off the walls. They hung out in front of or IN my booth with their friends, or they cranked up their club music, making it difficult to talk with my customers.

Last year, however, I was next to a couple of young guys from Grande Prairie who were friendly and fun to be around. They politely asked if they could hang a banner off my grid wall on their side, and I was happy to accommodate them.
This was my booth in 2019, one of my best spots ever. During setup, the booth next to me was a no-show, and the vendor on the other side of the gap asked the organizers if he could take some of that space. They agreed. He excitedly came to me and said he’d only take half of it, and I could have the other half, a generous gesture on his part. We both expanded our booths and even had storage space between us.

Another reason I loved this spot was that it was next to one of the widest aisles beside a wall and a straight line to one of the loading doors. On teardown, it was pouring rain that year. The vendors around me cleared out quickly. After I packed everything and it was time to load out, one of the show staff offered to let me bring my car inside. I parked beside my booth, loaded up comfortably, and drove out the door.

This was likely the only time that will ever happen at this show, but it sure was a treat.

The most familiar faces at the Expo are my wonderful subscribers, customers and collectors who come back year after year to support my work. I see several of the same vendors, too, but I only know a few. It’s a busy show, with 100,000 people attending over four days, so spending time outside my vendor neighbourhood is impossible.

One vendor I know has been at this show for about as long as I have. Brock is a talented scroll saw artist with pop culture and entertainment-themed work that fits this audience perfectly. We chat each day of the show, before opening, or when he and his family come by my booth to get some new prints and stickers.

Because I’m usually at the show by myself, they’ve always been so kind to offer to watch my booth if I need a bathroom break. Several of my long-time collector friends do that, too, and it’s greatly appreciated. I bring my food, so that’s the only time I need to leave my space.

This week, the Expo updated its Exhibitor List to reveal booth numbers. I was delighted to discover that, for the first time, Brock and I are next-door neighbours, our corner booths forming the end of an aisle block. What a great start to the event.
Though everything I need for Expo is here and mostly ready, I’m still working on last-minute prep and drawing editorial cartoons to keep my newspaper clients supplied while I’m away. The Monday after the show is Election Day in Canada, so I must also have that morning’s cartoon done in advance.

To you diehards who attend every year, I look forward to seeing your smiling faces once again.

If this will be your first Calgary Expo, please stop by and say Hello. I love seeing the shell-shocked expressions on people who have never been to this circus. You’re in for a real treat.

Cheers,
Patrick

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Three Weeks ’til Expo!

April, already. Where did the time go? The Calgary Expo is three weeks from today, and even though this will be my 10th year, I still obsess about the prep.

I keep detailed spreadsheets that allow me to look back on every show to see how much I sold of each item, which informs how much I order the next time. Knowing that my Smiling Tiger, Otter, and others are bestsellers is not enough. I need accurate numbers, otherwise I might order 20 of one print, though I only sold 10 the year before. Multiply that by dozens of paintings, and it soon gets costly.

Each year, I try to bring enough stock so I don’t sell out early, but not so much that I have a lot left to bring home. With tariff threats and an uncertain economy, people will still be there, but will they buy?

Late spring and summer aren’t big months for my online store, but they’re the busiest times for my wholesale clients. Because of my editorial cartoon commitments, I don’t do summer markets. So, if I have too many prints the Calgary Zoo, Toronto Zoo, or Discovery Wildlife Park don’t sell, they can sit in the closet for months. For example, none of those venues want a Raven, Orca, or Panda.

Immediately after this year’s Expo, I have two commissions on deck, one featuring three cats and another with three dogs. It’s bizarre they both arrived at the same time from different clients. Those are significant commitments and top priorities for the next few months. Both clients have been collecting my work for years and were willing to wait until May for me to start.

Sadly, I dropped the ball on a video assignment last month for a client I never want to disappoint. But I bit off more than I could chew and had to bow out. I’ve been learning a new camera setup and editing software, and editorial cartoon commitments have increased with the rapidly changing daily news, not to mention marketing efforts that have taken days away from productivity.

While the client understood and let me off the hook, it’s a professional failure I have not yet accepted.

There aren’t enough hours in the day right now, and I’m floundering.
Fortunately, everything I need for Expo is already here or on the way. I placed a large print order earlier this week to fill orders for The Calgary Zoo, Discovery Wildlife Park and this event, which will arrive next week.

My stickers, magnets, coasters and metal prints are fully stocked for the show, but I’m waiting on tote bags. As with any new product, you learn the most from the first order.

While the first two tote bag samples arrived quickly, this much larger order took longer. It’s been five weeks, but they finally shipped a few days ago. Quality takes time, but that was unexpected. Thankfully, they’ll still arrive before Expo.

I didn’t anticipate the enthusiastic tote bag interest from all of you. Even though I asked for feedback before I ordered, inquiries have continued to come in. I checked with the company to see if I could add more to the order, and they said it wasn’t possible because they were already in production.

So, while it’s great that people are excited about them, it has presented a dilemma. I won’t have enough for the event if I offer them for sale before the Expo. The best sales are in person, and I can’t test a product at a live event if I don’t have enough to make it through the weekend. How the bags perform at Expo will determine how many I order for the four weeks of the Banff Christmas Market, which is a much more significant financial investment.
Additionally, the next three weeks will be some of the busiest of my year, and the bags won’t even be here for another week. I don’t have the room to add hours and days of shipping and delivering tote bag orders on top of all the prep and drawing cartoons.

Creating the art is the easy part. Promoting and selling it is the work.

For those of you who have expressed interest in the tote bags, I greatly appreciate it, but I’m going to ask for your understanding and patience for a little longer. I need to take the whole order to Expo.

After the event, I’ll immediately put any remaining stock in the store and let all of you know when they’re available. If I don’t have enough to fill the demand, I’ll launch a preorder for subscribers and do what I can to add a little bonus incentive to reward your patience.

Three months into the year, I have yet to find my groove. I’m always working, but it doesn’t feel like I’m getting anywhere. Something has to give, because if there were a report card that listed all the plans, projects, and paintings in progress, there would be a big INCOMPLETE next to most of them.

I need to figure that out.

In the meantime, I’m focused on Expo. It really is a good time, and I look forward to it every year. There are so many subscribers and collectors I only see in person at this event, which is what makes it so much fun.

I’ve painted seven new paintings since the last Expo, which isn’t as many as I would have liked. But two of these paintings were a lot more work than any before, so it’s understandable. Those Grizzlies and Lemurs felt like several paintings in one. And since I will still have 39 other available images at the show, I won’t worry about it.

Stickers do well at Expo, and because so many asked for it at this event and the Banff Christmas Markets, I’m looking forward to introducing my new Highland Cow sticker.
But every year, even if they follow A Wilder View, people always ask, “What’s new this year?”

So, if you’re coming to the Expo but haven’t come to the Banff Christmas Markets or ordered anything online, here’s a refresher of the paintings you most likely don’t have yet. Of course, I’ll be happy to remind you in person.

Cheers,
Patrick

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A Pouty Bear, Commissions, and Tote Bags

A post in three parts. Here we go.
First, here’s a painting I just finished yesterday called Pouty Bear. Even though most of the animals I paint are smiling and happy, I occasionally change them up, even if I know that a different expression may not appeal to people.

My Angry Bear painting is not popular, but it’s still one of my favourites because I enjoyed the work. The grumpy lion, on the other hand, is a pretty good seller, and that surprised me. The Ring-tailed Lemur creeps some people out but definitely has its fans.

Will this pouting brown bear connect with people? Time will tell.
Commissions and Comic-Con

I’ve enjoyed most of the pet portrait commissions I’ve done. Each has a unique story. I like the back-and-forth with clients and am usually happy with the results.

I only paint two or three commissions a year, sometimes only one, so they’re not a big part of my work. I’m OK with that because custom paintings are labour-intensive. Each begins with initial client emails, vetting photos, and discussing expectations. This leads to the actual painting, printing and delivery, which takes several weeks at the best of times. That’s in addition to my daily editorial cartoons and paintings and running my business.

A whimsical wildlife painting takes several hours, too, but each of those paintings has the potential to become a popular print or licensed image that sells for many years. Although every commission advertises my skills to future clients, the painting itself is one and done. It’s unique and specific to the person who hired me. Very few people want a painting of somebody else’s dog.

For my clients, a commission is not an impulse buy; it’s an investment in a very personal and meaningful custom painting. Most people hire me after following my work for a while and becoming familiar with my art style and process. They’ve had time to think about a commission, decide they want one, and only then do they contact me.
At the Calgary Expo a few years ago, Jeremy asked me about painting his dog, Luna. It was several months later before he reached out and got the ball rolling for a Christmas present for his wife, Jenny. Luna is one of my favourite paintings. I enjoyed the experience and look forward to seeing them each year at the Expo. Jeremy and Jenny even visited the Banff Christmas Market this year and brought their dogs along.
I am asked about commissions at shows all the time. For the past couple of years, I have displayed an 18” X24” metal print of Luna in my booth, with a little sign in the corner that reads, “YES, I DO paint commissions. Ask me for more info.”

Since advertising the service with Luna’s painting, I get a lot more inquiries. But here’s the thing: Jeremy was the exception to the rule. Almost nobody hires me for a commission after meeting me at shows. And I’ve realized that talking about commissions is usually the quickest way to get somebody to leave my booth.

Whether it’s at the Calgary Expo or the Banff Christmas Market, here’s how that usually goes. While they scan the metal and canvas prints hanging on the grid walls that define my booth, they see the Luna painting and the commission sign. They get excited that I might paint their dog, and the first question is usually, “How much would that cost?”

I’ve used various talking points to try to soften the sticker shock. I mention that a custom painting is an investment and personal to them. I explain how much work is involved, including printing and shipping/delivery. But as soon as I mention it’s $1900, the disappointed look on most people’s faces is unmistakable.

The price surprises those who are used to buying underpriced art on Etsy, which is often generated AI or photo manipulation. I don’t know how much they thought a custom original painting would cost, but it was much less than what I just quoted them. Because even though very few will flat out say, “I can’t afford that,” it’s evident in their reaction, and that makes them feel embarrassed, even though they shouldn’t. I don’t drop two thousand dollars on anything without planning and careful consideration, so I don’t expect anyone else to.

But now they’re uncomfortable. Their initial enthusiasm for my work, which attracted them to my booth in the first place, is tarnished, and they want to escape this negative feeling as soon as possible. They’ll often ask for a card and say they’ll be in touch, leave the booth, and I know I’m unlikely to ever hear from them.

They never got around to flipping through the 40-50 different prints in the bins, nor did they see the magnets, coasters, stickers, or postcards. I’ll never know how many sales I might have missed if the commission price hadn’t scared them away.

As much as I love showing off that Luna painting, I won’t bring it to shows anymore. I’ll still get commission inquiries at The Calgary Expo, but I won’t advertise them. I’m likely to say that I’m not taking any right now with my current workload.

Like a commission, The Calgary Expo and Banff Christmas Markets are big investments, which I hope will result in excellent sales and allow me to introduce my work to new people. And when they see my happy, smiling animals, along with the occasional pouty bear or grumpy lion, I want to invite them in and show them around my booth rather than give them a reason to leave.

If they sign up for A Wilder View, they can always look into a commission later and decide on their own time that they want to talk about it.

As with all self-employment, art-for-a-living is about adaptation. When something isn’t working, it’s time to make a change.

Tote Bags

Thank you for all the positive comments and emails about the new Otter and Smiling Tiger tote bags I’m ordering for the Calgary Expo. These vibrant printed bags are 100% polyester textured canvas, machine wash and dry, and will withstand everyday use while looking great. Each measures 16” X 13” X 3”.
Several people emailed me asking if I’ll have them in the online store. As with any new product, I must guess how many I might need for the show. Production and delivery timelines mean I won’t get these for more than a month, so I need to order them on Monday to have them in time for the end of April.

While I think they’ll do very well, they’re a significant investment, and I’m erring on the side of caution, which means I hadn’t planned on ordering extras for the online store until I see how they do. And if I added them to the store first and they do very well, I won’t be able to order more in time for Expo.
But I’d love to hear your thoughts.

At $29 plus $5 shipping (in Canada) for one bag, would you buy one if I stocked them on my site? Depending on the feedback, I may increase how many I order tomorrow to accommodate online sales. Please let me know in the comments.

Cheers,
Patrick

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Banners and Bags

For years, I’ve been using the same vertical banners at the Calgary Expo, featuring my Smiling Tiger and Rat paintings.  While the old banners are still in good shape, they have my old website on them, www.cartoonink.com. And even though I rebranded to LaMontagne Art some time ago, I haven’t worried about the other address, because it will still take you to my site. I also know that most people aren’t looking at my banner and going to my site while standing right in front of me at my booth. In hindsight, it wasn’t necessary to ever include that info on the banner.

The banner stands I’ve used for years are made of heavy steel posts, cross beams and a base. They’ve done the job well, but they take extra time to set up and are awkward to load into an already packed car.
This year, I have replaced them with these retractable banner stands which are more compact and set up in seconds. While I could have gone with new images for both banners, I opted to keep the Smiling Tiger. It’s still one of my bestselling images, but more importantly, it’s part of my Calgary Expo booth and brand identity. People tell me they look for that banner. For the second image, my Rat painting is now retired, and I was happy to use my new Polar Plunge painting in its place. I think it fits this format well.

I had these printed at Vistaprint Canada and I’m pleased with how they turned out.

Shonna has been urging me to get tote bags for a long time, but I’ve never been enthused with the idea. There are many different products on which I could print my art, but that would mean buying, storing and transporting them as well. Having too many products gets expensive and complicated, and I wasn’t sure if tote bags would be the best investment.

At the Banff Christmas Market this year, I made a point of arriving early some days to check out other vendor booths. One vendor I know had her artwork on canvas tote bags and I was very impressed with the printing. She told me they sold well and I asked where she had them done. She generously shared the details for the Montreal company and said they were great to work with.
I created these designs for two of my bestselling paintings, and I am thrilled with how great they look. The print quality is better than I could have hoped, as is the construction and stitching. This vibrant printed bag is 100% polyester textured canvas, machine wash and dry, and will withstand everyday use while looking great. Each measures 16”X 13” X 3”.
I designed each bag as a wrap; the same image on both sides, with no text or advertising. I’ll have these two bestselling painting designs, my Otter and Smiling Tiger, available for this year’s Calgary Expo. I haven’t yet decided on how many I’ll bring, but they’ll retail for around $30.

Cheers,
Patrick

 

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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