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As I write this, I’ve just turned 55.
I’ve got a strange relationship with birthdays, especially in recent years. I’ve never been that big on them. They’ve often felt more like an obligation than a celebration, something I’m expected to enjoy for other people.
Twice a year, I experience a certain flavour of melancholy. New Year’s is one, my birthday is another. It starts a few weeks out, taking stock of where I’m at and feeling like I haven’t done what I meant to in the year that’s passed.
Which is a bit ridiculous, because if I try to name what I actually wanted to do, it’s a mix of specific things, like finishing my bear book or getting out for more wildlife experiences, and vague ones, like doing less doomscrolling, painting more, and yes, making more money.
I’ve never claimed to be above that.
Money may not buy happiness, but it does offer security.
In the months between New Year’s and my birthday this year, I’ve been taking more stock than usual. Not because I want to slow down. I don’t. Time off isn’t good for me. An overactive creative mind left idle tends to wander into places I’d rather it didn’t.
But I’ve become acutely aware that 40 doesn’t feel that long ago. And yet, it’s the same distance between then and now as it is between now and 70.
That lands differently.
I still have a lot of work I want to do. I don’t think I’ve done my best work yet. I’m still improving. I’ve spent most of my art career agreeing with those grade school teachers who wrote the same thing in my report cards. Patrick isn’t living up to his potential.
Those demons are always around. I don’t mind calling them what they are, my own particular brand of batshit crazy, but I’ve come to accept they’re tied to the same place the work comes from.
That’s the trade.
Physically, I’m in decent shape. A few more aches, worse sleep, more bad dreams, a little less tolerance for things I used to shrug off. Nothing alarming. But I’m not naive about where I am on the timeline.
I’m seeing more obituaries for people my age. Some younger. People I’ve known, or at least known of, for years. Heart attacks. Cancer. Strokes. Plans that didn’t get finished.
Didn’t they all think they had more time?
I don’t fear death itself. But I do think about the stretch between now and then more than I used to. I have an acute awareness that the runway isn’t endless.
So what does that have to do with art and funny looking animals?
My start in this career wasn’t early. I didn’t even consider doing this for a living until my late 20s. I’ve been full-time for twenty years now, and for most of that time, I’ve felt like I’ve been trying to catch up.
To who, I couldn’t tell you.
A lot has gone right, some of it by design, some by accident. I never got an editorial cartoonist contract with a daily newspaper, something I really wanted in the early 2000s. In hindsight, I’m grateful for that. Staying self-syndicated meant I still have that part of my business, long after most of those staff jobs disappeared.
Nobody is more surprised than I am that I’m still drawing editorial cartoons every day.
In those early years, I threw a lot at the wall. Some of it stuck, most of it didn’t. Or at least that’s how it felt at the time.
I spent years drawing caricatures of celebrities and regular folks, taking commissions for birthdays and weddings. I did contract illustration work for board games, everything from game cards to box art. I even went down the animation rabbit hole for a while, learning software, recording voiceovers, trying to figure out if that was a direction worth pursuing.
Even though it wasn’t, none of that time was wasted. Every one of those detours built skills I still use.
And one of those experiments became the work I enjoy most, my whimsical wildlife portraits. I painted the first one in 2009 with no real plan. It was just fun, so I did another. Now there are well over a hundred, plus all the sketches and half-finished ideas sitting in folders.
That part worked out.
But something has shifted this year. Maybe it’s the number. Maybe it’s just time doing what time does. Either way, the question feels louder now.
How many more years do I get to do this?
I’m not being dramatic, I’m being practical.
I don’t need a big deal made about my birthday. It matters to me for reflection, but I don’t want it to be a social thing anymore.
A couple of years ago, I rented a cabin for my birthday and went there by myself, just to think.
And it didn’t work.
Because there were the birthday texts. Emails. Phone calls. All well-intentioned. People reaching out because they care. And I answered.
Which pulled me out of it.
That’s when it hit me that it’s not just about wanting the time. It’s about protecting it.
For most of my career, I’ve spent more time running the business than doing the work. Marketing, promotion, logistics, all necessary parts of the job, but they come at a cost.
Time.
And I’ve given too much of it away.
To projects I didn’t really want to take on. To requests I said yes to just to be polite. To things that had nothing to do with the work I actually care about.
I’ve let other people’s agendas, criticisms, and priorities dictate my direction, even when I knew better. I went along to get along. And I regret that.
I can’t afford that anymore.
These days, it’s a polite no.
Because they’re not minting more time.
Even writing this, I caught myself wondering if it sounds too dark. If I should lighten it up, because people just want happy animals and not my voice in their ear going on about this stuff.
But honestly, who am I to decide what people want?
Before I painted my first whimsical grizzly bear, nobody was asking for it. It connected with some people who were already following my work, and then more people came along who liked my brand of wildlife painting, too.
With less time ahead than behind, I don’t have the luxury of trying to be everything to everyone.
The people who like the work, the funny looking faces and the writing that goes with it, will stick around.
Those who don’t will find what they’re after somewhere else. No hard feelings.
We’re all living on borrowed time.
I’d like to spend more of mine on the things that make it bearable.
While I had lunch with my zookeeper friend, Serena, a couple of other people arrived. Coincidentally, they were also longtime friends of the park. Rather than the usual bear education presentation we’d seen several times, Serena gave the three of us a behind-the-scenes personal tour and visit with the bears.
Cold, dark, and windy, the rain at least let up for a few hours. While the pictures I got weren’t impressive photographs on their own, some of these shots will be amazing for reference. I’ve written before about how sunny days aren’t great because they can wash out detail in the highlights and shadows, but an overcast day provided some very exciting photos of bear fur and features.
If that weren’t enough, Serena has been hand-raising an orphaned raccoon since he was tiny. Shonna I got to see him earlier this summer, but on this day, he was getting his first look at a much bigger world, as he was let loose for a bit to run and play in a large enclosure. If you’ve ever seen a cat or dog with the zoomies, imagine that with a raccoon. He was having a very good time.
After the park, I took my parents out to dinner in Red Deer and spent the night at their place for a nice, albeit short, visit.
Several years ago, a local photographer told me about
Their primary motivation is food, so they’re usually en route to one of the small patches of grass and vegetation among the rocks, where they’ll stuff their faces before running back to their stash. It’s fun to watch.
It can get cold up there at 2200m (7200 ft), and I always pack extra layers, but it was a pleasant fall morning, and I only needed a light jacket. On a few visits, there’ve been ten or 12 other people, often photographers with much bigger lenses than my 70-300mm, doing the same thing. But on this visit, I spent an hour and a half crawling over the rocks and snapping pics with the whole place to myself. Nobody else stopped.
On each drive up to Rock Glacier, I usually see black bears or grizzlies, but none this time. They’re likely still low in the valleys, eating as much as possible before winter. But they can show up anywhere around here, and on these excursions, I’ve always got bear spray on my hip. Aside from the above pic of a line of bighorn sheep walking the top of the ridge, I only saw the wildlife I came for.
Though I have kept dozens of pika photos over the years, I’ve always felt I hadn’t quite got the one I wanted, that perfect photo to paint from. I finally got one on this trip, but I haven’t shared it in this post. It’ll just have to be a surprise.
This painting has been rattling around in my noggin for some time. I think I first had the idea at the Calgary Zoo when I saw Skoki, the grizzly bear, sitting in one of his ponds, playing with something floating on the water.
Eventually, it comes together, the personality shows up, and it turns into an enjoyable pursuit rather than a frustrating one. What was at first a slog, seeming like hours of no progress, ended up to be work I didn’t want to stop.
Earlier this year, I surveyed subscribers to 
I’ll have another fully rendered new painting to share with you soon, but while you wait, here’s another recent piece I drew for the bear book.
In 2008, I hosted the Canadian Editorial Cartoonists Conference in Banff. Several industry veterans who attended came up in a culture where busy unionized daily newspapers hired editorial cartoonists for impressive salaries, benefits, and pensions. I began my career at the end of all that.
Eventually, social media killed the forum, and the organization rebranded. As a result, NAPP no longer exists, and the Photoshop World conference is a ghost of its former self.
I’ve taken a new approach with the trio of giraffes, already titled “Long Neck Buds.” I don’t know if it will work the way I imagine it, but if it does, it will be the first of several I plan to paint this way.
I’m a commercial artist, it’s how I make my living. I don’t pretend otherwise. But this is also supposed to be fun. I want to paint more detailed and elaborate images I’ll enjoy while also leaving options open for clients and licenses with different needs.
