Here’s a brand new painting I’m calling Peekaboo Panda.
At first glance, this one looks like a pretty simple idea. A red panda popping out of the bamboo with a curious expression. But paintings like this often come with a bit more planning than people might expect.
The inspiration for this one was a photo I took at the Calgary Zoo one day. I don’t always share my reference photos, but in this case I thought it might be interesting to show the pose that sparked the idea. For the colour, lighting, and texture, I used several other photos I’ve taken over the years.
A recurring theme in some of my posts is the difference between art for fun and art for a living.
In an ideal situation, I would just choose an animal I want to paint, find or take some reference, put a whimsical spin on it, and enjoy the process. And to be fair, that still happens often enough to keep me interested while painting my funny-looking animals.
But this work is also how I pay my bills, so I have to think about what comes after the painting is finished.
When I start a painting, I usually work at the same dimensions because I know the final print will most often be 11×14, either vertical or horizontal. From time to time I will create a square painting, depending on what I see in my mind’s eye when I imagine the character in the critter.
I keep these dimensions because it makes it easier for my customers to find a frame, and that is a selling feature.
But because I have done my best to diversify my revenue streams, which is marketing speak for not putting all my eggs in one basket, I also have to think about my licensing clients.
In simple terms, art licensing means that companies pay to use my artwork on their products in exchange for royalties. If you have ever bought a backpack with cartoon characters on it, that artwork is licensed.
The challenge is that very few products come in neat little 11×14 rectangles.
That means when I paint something like this red panda, I have to allow extra space. More background and sometimes more of the animal so the artwork can be adapted to different formats later.
Pacific Music & Art, for example, might use one of my paintings on several different products, from magnets and mugs to calendars. While my vision for this piece was the vertical print you see at the top of this post, I had to paint quite a bit more of the panda, the background, and the bamboo leaves so the image could be adjusted to fit those other uses.
Last week I finalized the images for the 2027 calendar for Pacific Music & Art. Just like other licensing contracts, there is a lot of lead time for design and printing. My vertical red panda print would not work for a calendar page, so I had to create this different horizontal version, and that meant thinking about that layout when I started the painting.
The downside is that it means more work. Even though I paint digitally and can use layers for much of the process, the final cropping still requires extra time to make sure everything blends properly and does not look like pieces pasted together.
Because my goal is to continue diversifying my work to help ensure the longevity and security of my business, I will have to make these considerations more often than ever.
But the upside is that my licensing clients get the images they need to best fit their products, while my customers get the print of the painting that I originally envisioned when the idea for this critter first popped into my head.
Art for a living. Some assembly required.
Cheers,
Patrick
This porcupine turned out to be a lot more fun than I expected, and that was exactly what I needed right now.
But this piece reminded me why I sit down to paint in the first place.
So he knew what he wanted when he asked me to paint 10-year-old Delta.
I’ve already got my next few 
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.
I had thought about doing a subscriber pre-order, but to be blunt, I don’t trust that Canada Post won’t strike again for the holidays. If that happened, I’d be stuck with prepaid orders I couldn’t ship and a pile of unhappy customers. Rather than risk it, I bit the bullet, paid for the order myself, and will sell them in person and online as long as stock lasts.
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.
I’ve been working on a commission of three cats, and it’s coming along well. The client has provided some valuable feedback on the images I’ve shared so far. I’ve also recorded a bunch of the process, written the video narrative, and I’m still working on that video and the painting itself.
I based this little fawn on reference I shot at 
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.
Commissions and Comic-Con
Several people emailed me asking if I’ll have them in the 
But I’d love to hear your thoughts.
Some paintings come together easily. A reference photo may immediately inspire an idea, I’ll sit down and mock up sketches, and it will almost feel like the image creates itself.
This painting has been something entirely different. Even though I had a clear idea of what I wanted it to look like, I couldn’t get it to feel right. It was inspired by a photo I took at the Calgary Zoo, and I even had the name of the piece before I painted the first brushstroke.
The first go round, I used a specific reference for each lemur I painted and drew them all individually. Even after I assembled them, I kept going back to the individual references for each, and it wasn’t easy to keep track of it all. I made it far too complicated.
The key to getting this piece back on track was to stop painting individual trees and just paint the forest. Even though this was a challenging painting, with a lot of redrawing and direction changes, I learned from the frustration. These kinds of lessons always contribute to better work in the future.
Under these circumstances, my perception of how any finished piece looks is distorted. I have no idea how I feel about this painting and probably won’t for a while. I feel more relief that it’s finally over than satisfaction with the result.