Speaking Of Art...

"Gayle With Sheet", Oil On Canvas, 30"x24"

"A good orator is pointed and impassioned"~ Cicero

Last week I had the opportunity to speak at Georgian College in Barrie, Ontario. I was asked to be a guest lecturer for the fine art student body and some faculty. It was exhilarating yet a bit terrifying as well...which I suppose is a good thing. Adrenaline can do such wonders for the mind as well as the body!

The purpose of this lecture was to discuss and talk about my background, past work, present projects, accomplishments and anything else pertaining to the life of a full-time artist that the students might enjoy learning about. I have included some images in this blog of paintings that I showed to the audience.

"Bed (head)", oil on canvas, 12"x12"

I had a lot of fun preparing the lecture, partially because I was able to use Power Point finally. It was so straightforward and I almost couldn't believe it was a Microsoft product! All bias aside, I had a great time organizing, planning, editing and honing the talk around slides of older and present work, a brief bio and selected quotations that keep me inspired and moving forward when there are inevitable but rare dips in enthusiasm about one's work.

"Coming", oil on canvas, 48"x36"

The talk went really well and I was quite excited to see that a total of about 115 people attended the lecture! All of the chairs were taken and people were sitting on the floor and standing at the back of the gallery where the talk was held. I had a microphone. I had a laptop. I was ready...so I dove in and began to talk about what I do and why I do it.

After some initial nervousness I settled into speaking earnestly about how I came to be a full-time painter: how in college a small group of us decided to embark on a more traditional route of approaching our work as we had a calling to do more studio/gallery work than commercial work...and the beautiful thing is that our instructors at Sheridan College supported and encouraged this rerouting of creative spirit. I will never forget that.

"Gayle (stool)", oil on panel, 48"x36"

The main point that I tried to emphasize to everyone listening is what we have heard time and time again: that anything that we dream of is possible, that we can do whatever we want with our lives, with our careers as artists and creative people, that the only limits are those which we place upon ourselves. I was pleased to see some people nodding their heads and some were jotting down notes too. I spoke of the value of discipline and most importantly, I stressed to the listeners to find out what makes each of them unique as creative people, what sets them apart, and to capitalize upon that. The key is finding that beautiful and individual ingredient within each of us...and cultivating it.

Below are some quotations from my talk that I wanted to share here. They resonate with me very much and I use them as touchstones when I need a little push of inspiration:

"Find a job you love and you will never work a day in your life."~Confucius

"In the depths of winter I finally discovered that there was in me an invincible summer." ~Albert Camus

"What lies behind us and what lies before us are small matters compared to what lies within us." ~Ralph Waldo Emerson

"Go confidently in the direction of your dreams! Live the life you've imagined. As you simplify your life, the laws of the universe will be simpler." ~Henry David Thoreau

"The most regretful people on earth are those who felt the call to creative work, who felt their own creative power restive and uprising, and gave it neither power nor time." ~Mary Oliver

"The worst enemy to creativity is self-doubt." ~Sylvia Plath

"Painting is self-discovery. Every good artist paints what he is."~Jackson Pollock

"What would life be if we had no courage to attempt anything?" ~Vincent Van Gogh

"Gayle, Snowshoeing", Oil On Canvas, 36"x48"

Speaking to these artists was very rewarding. I spoke to a few people afterwards who wanted to talk briefly and I was pleased to hear that they enjoyed the talk and were inspired. There's no greater feeling than to inspire another artist to pick up their brush or approach the copper plate with more gusto! There was a certain bliss felt in that moment, in speaking and communicating verbally what you are compelled to do with your life and work. I look forward to doing more lectures and speaking engagements in the future!

I can hardly believe it but the Newfoundland Portraits Exhibition is less than three weeks away! I will be doing an informal artist talk on November 14th at Abbozzo Gallery from 2-4pm where I will speak about the creation of the paintings and the journey to Newfoundland. I hope to see you both at the opening and at the talk!

With warmest wishes,

Heather

Newfoundland Portraits

November 5-22nd, 2009

Opening Reception November 6th, 7-10pm

Abbozzo Gallery

179 Lakeshore Road East, Oakville, Ontario, Canada

Come out, see some artwork and listen to special musical guests

The Killin' Time Band who will be playing

some East Coast-inspired songs for your enjoyment!

Informal Artist Talk: November 14th, 2-4pm, Abbozzo Gallery

Of breaks, bruises and the message behind it all...

Painting with my cat Sasha

"The world breaks everyone and afterwards some are strong at the broken places." 

~Ernest Hemingway

Nine days ago I broke my foot. Six days ago I put my hand through a glass window, badly cutting it in the process. Granted the glass in the window was old and my hand slipped off of the wood frame, but this injury and my foot in an aircast after fracturing my fifth metatarsal have caused me to wonder about what the universe is trying to say here. There is a message and meaning to everything that happens to us in life. The answers I know will be revealed in good time. Patience, ever the virtue and something I struggle with, will win in the end. 

The irony is that for weeks this summer I trekked through some of the burliest country in North America in the Alaskan Interior, slashing and hacking, climbing and slipping. Yet, here not ten minutes from my homes, the simplest of twists when I was not looking where I was going changes your life in a large way. However, instead of wallowing in the situation I am trying to use the time to accomplish some solid work and continue to prepare for the Newfoundland Portraits exhibition which is now less than three months away. I am also continuing work on paintings based on Christopher McCandless' photographs of his odyssey around North America which will eventually form an exhibition as well, happening in either 2011 or 2012. 

My physician advised me to keep my cast on as often as possible and to elevate my foot frequently. I have had to devise a way to paint with my foot raised up, which is no feat (pun intended). However I think the greatest lesson that I can discern from this break, at least for now, is how much we take mobility in life for granted. I realize now that running is out of the question, that moving quickly is not in my vocabulary for the next while, how fortunate we are when we can move as swiftly as our feet can carry us. It makes me appreciate each day and each task that we can do ourselves with even more humility and gratitude. Plus, it is an opportunity to focus energy that might have been spent on other things, towards my painting. I have included a photo of the cast on the edge of my easel while I paint below. Not terribly exciting but fortunately I have a job where I can work in this condition. 

I have about five weeks left with the cast and other than learning to hobble as well as possible with this aircast my work is coalescing and paintings are being completed, new ones begun and I am thankful for the support of friends and family too. My friend Gayle brought some fresh vegetables from her garden and some  homemade  vegan! chickpea salad for me. Thank-you almost doesn't do justice to these beautiful acts of kindness. 

In terms of what is happening in the studio I will include two pictures of paintings in progress for you to see what I have been up to. 

This is not a great photo but you get the idea here. This gentleman is a great character and kind soul who I met while in Wesleyville, Newfoundland last September. I loved his small shed with the low door frame and asked him to stand in that space. I enjoyed the darkness behind him and love to do paintings with doors and frames that are echoed in the shape of the canvas itself. Thus George posed for me for a few minutes and I am working hard to have this painting completed by month's end. 

This painting is one that is very near and dear to my heart. I expect to have it finished in one more solid day's work. It is a painting based on Chris McCandless' photo of his backpack on the Stampede Trail in the Alaskan Interior on or around April 28th, 1992. He had just been dropped off by Jim Gallien, an electrician who gave him a lift as far as he could down the uneven Stampede Road that becomes Stampede Trail eventually. Chris would have been alone on the trail for the first time and probably his pack was the first and logical thing to take a picture of as a symbol of himself, his journey, his philosophy. There is almost an Ansel Adamsesque quality to his shot, a quality that I wanted to capture in my painting as faithfully as possible. I will post the completed painting on my other blog, Heather Horton Artwork as soon as it is finished and Chris' parents have seen it. 

On a side note, I am trying to start thinking about a way to make the exhibition of paintings related to Chris' life and photographs a traveling exhibit. Christopher was a traveler, and I thought how appropriate a traveling exhibit would be for such a peripatetic man, a beautiful soul who turned thought into action and his incredible odyssey is a testament to that philosophy. I am sure Chris would agree with Henry David Thoreau, a hero of his, to "not lose hold of your dreams or aspirations. For if you do, you may still exist but you have ceased to live." Therefore if anyone reading this blog entry has any ideas about publicly or government-funded galleries looking to exhibit these paintings about Chris' life and journey, please send me a message. I would like to start planning this exhibit now, because the time to show them will arrive soon!

Here are some other paintings I have done based on Christopher's photographs so far. 

"Chris' Canoe, Near Golfo", oil on panel, 18"x24"

"Odyssey By Train", oil on panel, 18"x24"

"To The Sea", oil on canvas, 24"x36"

My apologies for the delay in blogging lately. A constellation of factors have contributed but I wanted to let you know about why I have not written in that it really is a time of production and distillation..a quietly exciting time, a time like no other :) 

Take care and have a beautiful weekend,

Heather

"We could never learn to be brave and patient if there were only joy in the world"

~Helen Keller

Here is some information on my solo show, Portraits Of Newfoundland. This exhibit will focus on the beautiful people and places I encountered on a journey there last September. I hope to see you at the opening! 

Portraits Of Newfoundland

November 5-22nd, 2009

Abbozzo Gallery, Oakville, Ontario

Opening Reception November 6th, 7-10pm

Sharing Happiness: Camping At Rockwood Conservation Area

"I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, 

to front only the essential facts of life,

 and see if I could not learn what it had to teach,

 and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived."

Henry David Thoreau 

Thoreau's words have resonated and connected with people throughout the many decades since he wrote them. He speaks the truth. To live deeply, mindfully and authentically, benefits everyone, from who we are at our deepest levels to who share our lives with. I found this very passage amidst much graffiti in Union Station in Toronto, shortly after my friend Jay had arrived from Cape Breton for three weeks of camping, socializing and Blue Jays games. This passage stood out in bold green in between declarations and admonishments, dreams and fears that were scribbled all around it. I took note.  

Part of Jay's journey out to Ontario from the rugged and remote island of Cape Breton on the east coast of Canada was to go with me camping to Rockwood Conservation Area near Guelph. Rockwood had been recommended to me by other friends who have camped there many times over the years. We booked a campsite far in advance according to their suggestion. 

To say that experiences differ from one place and time to another is a huge understatement. Just a few days previous we had been surrounded by thousands of people at a Toronto Blue Jays game, deep in the company of multitudes cheering and enjoying the festivities. Here however, was an altogether different adventure. It was quite a place, possessing a good degree of civility without being a distraction from the experience of being in the woods. I had returned not one month previous from the backcountry of Alaska that you can read about here, and Jay is from a very remote area of Canada so there was plenty of discussion surrounding the contrasts and similarities to each place. We took every opportunity to appreciate Rockwood for what it was, very special, a unique and beautiful place to explore a quiet little pocket of Ontario. 

Our tent at the campsite. 

We spent a total of two nights and two days at Rockwood. On our second day we explored the two main trails that are found within the park. They were beautiful and easy to negotiate. It gave us a chance to really see the area and there were some lovely cliffs and rock formations that we encountered along the way. We saw quite a few people on our hikes but we didn't feel crowded, instead focusing on what we saw along the way and appreciating this unique place: beautiful mirrored ponds, foliage of every shape and colour imaginable, birdsong in almost every tree and the sheer enjoyment of experiencing each turn in the path for what it was. 

I loved the juxtaposition of vertical trees and horizontal rocks here.

 Perhaps a future painting?

These reflections captivated us as we walked past

Jay and I are inspired by the works of Thoreau, Emerson, Mary Oliver, John Muir and others. These are people who have outlined a philosophy of living that we respond to strongly. We possess an appreciation and reverence for the beauty of the unexplained and the sublime complexity of the natural world that surrounds us. Thus, Alaska and crashing waves in Cape Breton were not needed...all we needed was the trees, a path (or not) and our openness to experience as much as we could from what we encountered along the way. These authors and poets move us deeply and have profoundly affected our lives. I will include a poem by Mary Oliver at the bottom of this entry that illustrates what I am trying to say more succinctly than I can here. 

A path through cedar trees winding down to the water below

We rented a canoe in the afternoon of our second day, which provided another form of hypnosis: instead of the quiet crunch of foliage underfoot we listened to the soothing rhythm of the paddles cutting the water and the vantage point the lake provided us as we gazed up at tall rock with pockets of caves, framed by cedars on either side. We paddled by the old Woolen Mill which was build over a hundred years ago. It seems almost out of place in such a forested area, this shell of a regal building standing in a clearing, surrounded by the woods. 

The old Woolen Mill

We enjoyed ourselves at Rockwood and took away as many experiences as we could in that short period of time. It is very close to where I live (about an hour away) yet seemed much more remote. My tent held up beautifully in the rain and was easy to put together (so easy that it made me realize how easy it will be to travel on other adventures with Jay). Co-operation is key. We had some great fires and great conversations too, exactly what our goal had been. Half the fun of going on camping and hiking trips is the company, who you share your memories and experiences with. Sharing happiness in your life with others makes life worth living, without question. Solitude has its place too of course, but when we choose march briefly with a similar drummer, whole new vistas of appreciation and potential open up to both of you. 

 

Mornings at Blackwater Pond

by Mary Oliver

For years, every morning, I drank

from Blackwater Pond.

It was flavored with oak leaves and also, no doubt,

the feet of ducks.

And always it assuaged me

from the dry bowl of the very far past.

What I want to say is

that the past is the past,

and the present is what your life is,

and you are capable 

of choosing what that will be,

darling citizen.

So come to the pond,

or the river of your imagination, 

or the harbor of your longing,

and put your lips to the world.

And live 

your life.

My solo exhibition of Newfoundland paintings is fast approaching! I hope you can make it out to the show. Here are the details:

Portraits Of Newfoundland

November 5-22nd, 2009

Abbozzo Gallery, Oakville, Ontario

Opening Reception November 6th, 7-10pm

Wrangell St-Elias National Park: Walking on glaciers and wrestling with moraines.

“Those who dwell among the beauties and mysteries of the earth 

are never alone or weary of life.” ~Rachel Carlson

On our last morning in Wrangell-St. Elias National Park, Alaska, Michael and I knew we had to get organized early for it would be a solid day's hard trek ahead of us. However, we looked forward to it with much anticipation. It seemed as though the black flies had come out overnight and were swarming around us as we packed up camp. I looked upon the little site in the middle of nowhere where we had spent two nights. We were perched on the edge of the Kennicott Glacier in an area of rocky moraine mixed with scrub brush. This area was at the Donoho Lakes area of the park. Other than one or two people passing by we were utterly alone, and the silence and vastness had made their mark on my mind and spirit. 

Click on this picture to see a large panorama

 of Donoho Peak and the area we camped in.

This journey into the backcountry had left me blistered, bruised, inspired, elated, overwhelmed, humbled...all ingredients that by design and circumstance transform you, literally. My experience in the Wrangells really helped me know what I was capable of...that a little danger does a body good, and I desperately wanted to bottle those feelings, to preserve them and not let them be diluted with time. 

Although my aim was not to do paintings from my experiences on this trip, you can add inspiration to your internal creative cache using memories and sensations culled from intense experiences such as these to feed your work at a later time. I was simply enjoying the moment, every moment, as much as possible, and I knew that to take out a sketchpad would have prevented me from soaking up as much as I could. Instead I shot photographs, many, many photographs, trying to preserve it all; the smells, the vistas, the aches and pains, the entire, mindblowing uniqueness then and there. 

Do you see that tiny yellow dot in the bottom

right hand side of this shot? That is our tent. I'm not kidding.

Here is a slightly blurry, but closer shot of the yellow tent.

This illustrates the sheer magnitude of the landscape.

Below are some shots from our departure across the moraine, the seemingly endless sea of moraine that stretched ahead and arched down and away from us like a veil of rocks. Miles and miles of rock-covered ice that framed the glacier proper, the wonderful white ice that we climbed towards and on to. We hiked for six hours on our crampons, across ice and moraine. It was epic in the truest sense of the word.

Here you can see the glacier appearing like a folded blanket,

 with moraine and mountains behind it.

I took this shot the night previous. 

You can see the white ice of the Kennicott Glacier that we climbed towards.

We came across pools of glacial water

 that were blue beyond compare. Surreal.

So apparently there are special boots that you wear that are designed for more rigorous walking with crampons on glaciers...we didn't have them and let me tell you, wearing crampons for hours and hours is a sure way to bring on blisters! The exhilaration superceded the discomfort however as we clinked our way down the glacier as mile after mile of wilderness at once opened up and closed in all around us. We stopped to refill our water bottles at some of the countless glacial streams..ice cold water right from the source. I can still taste that pure, icy goodness that propelled us and fueled us as we made our way carefully down the glacier. 

One of the tidal pools we stopped at.

My mind could not process such a raw beauty that we encountered out there that day. Physically it was unpredictable, unplanned, mapped but not by us, intoxicatingly alien and held lots of questions: which route? to rest or keep going? should we turn back? This is like life isn't it? Choosing paths and accepting the consequences, persevering, stumbling, picking ourselves up and looking back with an exhausted happiness at the trials we have surmounted. 

We continued down the narrowing glacier, occasionally skirting the edge of a cliff or making our way around some obstacle or another. The walking was lovely..."like a sidewalk" at times, as Michael said. And speaking of Michael, this entire journey would have been impossible without his supreme organization, knowledge of the land and his amazing enthusiasm to top it off. We had a great time traveling together. Never under-estimate the power of laughter, the importance of preparedness, and the supreme enjoyment that you get from experiencing these pieces of paradise with such a wonderful friend. As I stated previously, Michael has summited Denali as well as countless other peaks in Alaska and loves a challenge. Ergo, a perfect traveling companion; someone who would push me, encourage me and keep me thinking positively when claustrophia and bushwhacking frustrations set in. 

Making our way down the narrowing glacier.

A crevasse typical of the terrain on the glacier. 

I was petrified of falling in some of the moulins

we encountered.

There was one particular leg of our journey that I had been quite nervous about...the moraines at the end of the trek that were situated between the Kennicott and Root Glaciers, not far from where we camped our first night. We ended up taking a slightly different route than the book suggested, crossing onto the moraine from the glacier a bit earlier. The distance across the moraine was probably only a mile and a half...and on paper that is not a large distance. However, the terrain we negotiated made the distance feel like 5 miles...it was amazing, stressful, challenging...I loved it! Michael continued with his pretty unblemished route-finding record as we made our way on to the moraines and had periodic discussions on which was the best path to take.

This was the sea of icy/stoney craziness that we had to make our way through. 

You can see the glacier in the distance behind it.

Michael standing below a typical boulder found perched on the glacier, 

the detritus from such an immense, moving mass of ice.

It felt truly as though we were on an alien planet at times.

This shot shows just how massive some of the moraines were. 

We kept cracking jokes about this area of the trek looking like Tatooine , Luke Skywalker's home planet from Star Wars. Keep in mind we often slipped and slid on the ice underneath the rocks, even with the crampons on and clinging feebly at times. It was very...interactive and many scrapes and tussles with the land were had. I lost each battle but in the process found another layer of respect for this place. It takes no prisoners. It has no feelings. It simply exists in its perfect homeostasis that we had the opportunity to step briefly upon.

Here is a video clip from walking along Kennicott Glacier

And finally, after much exertion, we made it back onto the Root Glacier and home

towards Kennicott where we had stashed the bikes in some bushes off the trail.

I display my  badges of courage.

 I will be back to settle the score with the moraines!

After we retrieved our bikes it was an easy bike ride down to Kennicott and then on to McCarthy. It was an uphill bike there so we essentially coasted, with lighter packs to boot. We took a side trip to McCarthy to check out the scene there. It was a quiet, quirky little place, with a quiet hum to it that the locals knew well of course. On we went after a short stay, headed back to the truck, and were off towards Valdez for one more night of camping before heading back to Anchorage. 

Even after seeing this photos weeks after the adventure happened, their poignancy still lingers. As I mentioned, I do not want these feelings to dissipate but cling to them as fiercely as I clung to the rocks which threatened to give way from their icy grip on the moraines. But I will not live in the past but cherish these feelings and energy gleaned, experience gained and passion for the outdoors ignited even more from this trip to Wrangell-St. Elias National Park. 

“We must go beyond textbooks, go out into the bypaths and untrodden depths of the wilderness and travel and explore and tell the world the glories of our journey.” 

~John Hope Franklin

The Call Of The North: Wrangell St-Elias National Park

“To the lover of wilderness, Alaska is one of the most wonderful countries in the world.”

 ~John Muir

I had a great opportunity to hike and camp in Wrangell-St. Elias National Park and Preserve recently. This amazing hike came on the heels of a wedding at Delta Junction (see previous post). At the wedding we car camped but in Wrangell-St. Elias, camping took on a whole new meaning. The interesting thing about journeys into the wilderness is that often the true impact and amazement of such a pilgrimage is protracted; it seeps into your being and consciousness over the course of weeks or even years. At the time the experience is so acute, so immediate and tangible, with your safety and abilities being constantly challenged at every turn, that you cannot absorb it all. It is only later, directly, or sometimes a feeling caught on the edge of your mind that the sublime beauty of it all softly settles in your bones. 

I can already feel this sensation happening. It is quite surreal. I wonder if those living there continually marvel at the wonder of everything around them or if they see the mountains but don't really see them, after they have lived there for awhile? My instinct tells me that those who make Alaska and The Yukon their home do so because they love it, and there is simply no other place they would rather be. 

 I was quite excited to drive much of the 1,200 miles that we covered in 10 days!

My friend Michael and I headed out from Delta Junction and drove all day to reach the infamous road to the town of McCarthy. This 62 mile stretch of road is quite rough, but honestly it wasn't as bad as we anticipated it would be. McCarthy, as of 2000, according to census reports, had 42 people living there...42. Now that's quiet. The winding road to McCarthy is the only way to get to Kennicott, an old copper mining town that is the primary setting off point for intrepid souls venturing out into the park. Both towns have a rich history and are considered endangered national landmarks. We intended to tour the 27 story mine in Kennicott but instead used our remaining time in the area to go into McCarthy and look around. 

A bridge along the McCarthy Road. Acrophobes beware!

We camped at mile 54 near Swift Creek the night before our big adventure. The next morning we jumped on the bikes that Michael had cleverly thought to bring for us to cut down our time along the 6 miles of road between the truck and Kennicott. Our packs were pretty heavy, especially Michael's and the road had a slight uphill grade so we had a good peddle ahead of us before getting out into the park proper.

Thank goodness for this new bridge across the river

Two years ago this bridge was installed so that people trying to get to Kennicott and McCarthy didn't have to do a tyrolean traverse across the river on a wire. We sure appreciated the update! After making it into Kennicott we signed into the log book at the park service building, indicating our destination, probable length of stay in the park and, forebodingly, an emergency contact should we not return at our scheduled time. There were plastic moldings of bear prints to make identification easier within the park. We also grabbed a bear canister which we could place our food in at night and thus deter them (hopefully) from coming too close. In some camping areas there would be bear boxes too, sturdy metal boxes for storing food as well.I noted disconcertedly, the book that we were using clearly stated that the Donoho Lakes area of Wrangell-St. Elias has been heavily frequented by bears lately...the exact area we were heading! The park is 13.2 million acres, larger than the entire country of Switzerland....and we were heading into bear-central. Yikes. 

Here is our route that we followed 

Our goal for this trek was outlined in the great Falcon Guide "Hiking Alaska's Wrangell-St. Elias National Park and Preserve" by Greg Fensterman. Ironically, we happened upon a group of boy scouts and an older gentleman who gave us some tips on our day up to the Donoho Lakes by Donoho Peak. Turns out I think it was the author himself!

Following a path that led down to the glacier. You can see Donoho Peak

 rising behind the glacier

We found a place to leave the bikes off of the trail and turned to see the expanse of the Root Glacier spread out before us. It was quite a sight. The summer previous I had climbed part of the way up the Gulkana Glacier with my friend Trevor which you can read about here. I also had a wilderness baptism-by-fire the week before Gulkana at Kanuti Hot Springs with my Ed and some other friends that you can read about here. 

I can see how glaciers really do have different personalities. The Root glacier is vast, but small in comparison to many other glaciers in Alaska. We strapped on our crampons and headed out onto the Root. Michael has been on many glaciers, is a mountaineer by passion and has summited Denali (Mt. McKinley). Therefore it was I who experienced a sharper learning curve as I oriented myself on my new "footwear" as we moved out across the ice. 

Michael climbed up a nearby rise so we could have a good look at our route across the glacier

The travel across the glacier was wonderful, the ice crackling and clinking beneath our feet and against the metal teeth of the crampons. We were making good time and managed to cross the glacier, with the odd stop for pictures and side trips in about 3 hours. Getting off of the ice was challenging as the moraine was very soft and a couple of times the going was a bit treacherous as we sunk into the mud that quickly set off a deluge of water from under the ice...we climbed back on to the glacier to climb further north and seek out a less precarious path onto the landmass where we would camp the first night. As we crossed the glacier we looked back near the other side of the glacier and saw a few small groups of day trippers out exploring the ice. We also spotted a small tent way up on the landmass. The area where we camped is a pretty popular spot for hikers to stop for a first night, and bear boxes were about 1/4 mile away for safer food storage. The best decision Michael made on this trip was to bring a second, very light tent for food preparation. It would keep any smells of food away from our sleeping tent and provided a nifty shelter against the cold gales that were a constant presence next to the glacier. 

I loved the monochromatic quality of the glacier on this day. This is a view just looking back after our rather sketchy exit off of the ice.

This picture is small but you can see a larger version if you click on it. This is the view from our camp the first night near Donoho Peak....beautiful!

We arrived and took awhile deciding where best to set up camp as it was far from ideal with rocks and not much level ground. We managed to squeeze our extra food in one of the bear boxes and met up with some men who introduced themselves as Ben and Gary. They were out hiking in the same area as we were. It was lovely to chat with them and get some tips on navigating the trail we were planning on taking the next day. They had two way radios and used them when two of them went out onto the Root glacier the next day to explore. You can see them in the shot below...they are the two small dark dots in the lower right hand corner of the shot. This helps provide some scale for the landscape. It amazed me then and it amazes me now even more to see the sheer size of that place in these photographs. 

There is Gary and one more from their group in the lower right-hand side of the shot.

Once settled in to camp and having procured potable water from a stream and filter Michael and I were happy to flake out after some dinner. It had been a full day and we were anxious to get hiking the next day up to the Donoho Lakes area. I was a little nervous knowing that there would be some bushwhacking involved, bears everywhere, and I am claustrophobic by nature, especially when the brush closes in above my head while I battle through branches. However, it is all a part of the experience and what I may lament at the time become the cornerstones of happy memories when recalling the journey at a later time. For that evening though we marveled at the Root Glacier out before us and its spectacular icefall, the starkness of that landscape and our unbelievably small place within such natural grandeur. 

Here's our little food tent, a good distance from our other one..just in case! The landform was pretty sparse there, like one giant moraine! 

A great view to wake up to. Does it get any better than this?

We began the hike up to the second campsite near Donoho Lakes and the Kennicott Glacier the next morning. The book said that there would be a path that essentially marked the way for us but that some route-finding would be expected too. Well, that was an understatement! We had to back-track many times but Michael was good about forging ahead carefully and planning various routes to try. At least we knew our general direction and with time and patience, some falling down on my part and pacing ourselves, we made great time and found ourselves next to Kennicott Glacier in one piece. 

Here you can see the view of the first lake we passed, complete with lots of brush on all sides.

Route-finding towards the second lake

A large part of me wished that I could keep walking  forever...

This time in Alaska I was overwhelmed periodically; overwhelmed at how totally powerful and fiercely unrelenting  that wilderness was. And its limitlessness! Its sheer size made my head spin with a giddy elation. The thread of life is tenacious yet fragile, and one slip can bring an entirely different reality crashing in pretty quickly. It was a crazy sensation to deal with...yet I knew that that bit of fear would be like a slow-release vitamin to help me through the weeks following as I sat down at the easel in my small, dark studio in Southwestern Ontario and remembered where I had been and what a special experience it had been exploring out there. 

The weather was beautifully tumultuous that day. It threatened but did not rain on us.

I think Ansel Adams would have enjoyed the quality of light against the mountains

and wonderful value variations. 

As we neared the area where we were going to camp in on the second night I looked back to see the sun hitting some mountains near where we had begun our hike earlier in the day. Alaska is a land of paradoxes...there is lots to be said for the patience of glaciers and the timid openings of cold flowers. Yet much is to be said for the sublime hyperactivity found there: fervent weather, tempestuous skies, fleeting rainbows and mile after mile of untouched beauty. I was happy to share a small part in that wild ballet for awhile. 

"Contemplating the lace-like fabric of streams outspread over the mountains, we are reminded that everything is flowing - going somewhere, animals and so-called lifeless rocks as well as water. Thus the snow flows fast or slow in grand beauty-making glaciers and avalanches; the air in majestic floods carrying minerals, plant leaves, seeds, spores, with streams of music and fragrance; water streams carrying rocks both in solution and in the form of mud particles, sand, pebbles, and boulders. Rocks flow from volcanoes like water from springs, and animals flock together and flow in currents modified by stepping, leaping, gliding, flying, swimming, etc. While the stars go streaming through space pulsed on and on forever like blood globules in Nature's warm heart." ~John Muir

Don't forget to attend my exhibition in November if you are able! I would love to meet you and share my work with you. Have a beautiful evening..

Portraits Of Newfoundland

November 5-22nd, 2009

Abbozzo Gallery, Oakville, Ontario

Opening Reception November 6th, 7-10pm

Alaska Calling! Part 3: 1,200 miles of further exploration

“Simply look with perceptive eyes at the world about you, and trust to your own reactions and convictions. Ask yourself: "Does this subject move me to feel, think and dream? Can I visualize a print - my own personal statement of what I feel and want to convey - from the subject before me?” ~Ansel Adams

A variety of events have happened in the last month that precipitated a journey. A journey for many reasons. A journey of necessity. Oftentimes things happen and we just know that we have to go; to explore, to commune, to be inspired, to make connections, and simply to expand our minds with a different landscape. 

It was such that I found myself back in Alaska. Back to where a piece of me will always be. Now, perhaps I would sing a different tune if I wintered in Alaska, but I have a feeling my love for the place would grow even more as a result. 

These past few months have been filled with work towards my solo painting exhibition on Newfoundland, another place that I am deeply connected with. The work is coming along well, I am pleased with what has come out of the studio so far. Yet, I have been dealt a hand of cards that enabled me to travel for a time back to the North, to hike in the wilderness, to make new friends at a wedding in the Interior, and to generally continue my exploration of the 49th state. 

It took two days to get to Alaska this time, due mostly to a security issue at JFK en route to Salt Lake City, my connecting city to take me to Anchorage. 

Bedhead and preparing to catch a flight to Anchorage from my hotel room in Salt Lake City, Utah

Some tools of the trade needed for the Wrangells: ice axes, bear mace, trekking poles and sleeping pad

Here is a map of our route through Wrangell-St. Elias National Park

So the plan was to drive to Delta Junction to a fantastic wedding on a 1,600 acre ranch, then drive back down to McCarthy and Kennicott, leaving to hike and camp in the Wrangell-St. Elias National Park for a few days, ending off with a night camping near Valdez. Thus, much preparation was needed. We assembled food, gear, maps, directions etc and headed out: we would cover 1,200 miles in just over a week, through some of the most beautiful land I have ever seen. 

There is a beauty and serenity to be found in the process of reaching a place. If we were immediately transported to a destination, would we appreciate it as much? There's something to be seen in each curve of the road, because really, each moment and each mile along the highway is a destination too, or could be, depending on your plans and how flexible your itinerary is. To this end I made sure to keep my camera shooting and relished each hour as we made our way down to Glennallen and then turning north up through the Alaska Range, up into Delta Junction where the Alaska Highway begins, and down to the farm where Joe and Anna were getting married. 

The Matanuska Glacier 

Michael and I stopped briefly at the Matanuska Glacier and then continued on down the highway, stopping periodically to witness storm fronts crawling across the sky, stretching and generally appreciating the drive. 7 hours passed quickly with so much to see and experience. 

Driving towards Glennallen

The weather in Alaska is very changeable, very! 

By the road near Castner Glacier for a brief rest. The flowers were blooming and the weather was perfect.

Travel and exploration makes me thirsty and also slakes my creative thirst at the same time. It is a double-edged sword of inspiration and longing too. This rare quality that at once makes you want to experience more and yet also stop to capture that magic and transfuse it into your work is one that I cling to and try to chronicle in these photographs. Whether I do paintings from them is irrelevant: it is the emotion and inward movement of the heart and mind that is important here. It is the mental reference and the impression on your soul that becomes food for later creative efforts. 

The landscape in the Interior near Delta Junction flattened out a lot. It was quite surreal.

This farm was near where the wedding took place. You can see mountains from the Alaska Range in the distance. I loved the vibrant ochre of the fields here.

Traveling from an area so mountainous into an area almost flat beyond belief was quite a shock. It felt like we might be in Wyoming or some state in the lower 48. We marveled at how remote the farm was...off-the-beaten-path was an understatement! The driveway to the farm was even 1.5 miles long!

I like how the sign for the wedding was right next to the one emphasizing how darned remote the location was! 

Joe and Anna's wedding had folks arriving from far and wide. I met a lot of wonderful folks from Fairbanks to Oregon to Anchorage to Juneau. Everyone was welcoming and the ceremony was just beautiful! 

Such big skies! This is the path that led to the campground and area where the ceremony took place.

Here are some of the tents set up where the dinner and reception would take place

The entire wedding weekend was superbly organized with everyone setting up their tents and getting comfortable, helping out and generally enjoying one another's company. I kept feeling pulled towards the open expanse of air and space of the property...fields as far as the eye could see, large swathes of emptiness and also filled with life and nature buzzing all about, from the mosquitoes to the bees. It was quite remarkable and a far cry from my small, dark studio that I had left only a few days before. I took a few walks out to a crossroads of fields, 360 degrees of solitude and the quiet thrum of activity a field away.

This evening was the Summer Solstice...so the sun never really set..it was disorienting and that added to the magical quality of it all. Here you can see guests setting up in one of the fields.

I spent a good deal of time out photographing flowers, bees, the skies, and new friends. You never know what will catch your fancy, like these bluebells.

Never before had I witness such a magnificent transition of light and time. Being up North really messed with my circadian rhythm. I did not know whether I was hungry or full, waking up or ready to sleep, winding up or winding down. This inner sensational schism perhaps added to the intensity of experience there, to the appreciation of that unique time and place. One thing is certain: it was one of the most special weddings I had ever been fortunate enough to attend. 

I was amazed at the colour variations in the waning light that never waned entirely.

A mist appeared around 2am.

The next day people awoke and made preparations for the ceremony at 3pm. The ceremony itself was fantastic. A poem by Pablo Neruda was read that moved me to tears. It was really quite emotional and Anna looked radiant in particular. It was wonderful to see everyone happy and rejoicing in that beautiful place.

Everyone gathered for a great meal after the ceremony, the skies provided an exciting backdrop!

Greta, Ken and John (aka Slim Pickin') performed during the ceremony and afterwards at the

reception. They were fantastic! You can see their MySpace page here.

The band sets up before performing at the reception.

I enjoyed shooting a few pictures in black and white. It really helps you to see things

differently, placing more of a focus on value than colour.

We spent two nights at the farm near Delta Junction. It was the perfect beginning to another adventure that would follow: a few days spent hiking in Wrangell-St. Elias National Park, a park larger than the country of Switzerland! Thus the wedding weekend was a lovely counterpoint to the rugged landscape in store for us in the upcoming days. Each guest received a green mug to hold one of the money home brews on tap at the wedding. At one point Joe said that they would have their 10 year reunion at the farm again and that as long as you had your mug you could enter. I'll hold on to my mug!

I was determined to take away as much from my time in Alaska as possible. My time spent there this summer has lit a fire inside; I am thinking that perhaps a period of time spent working on paintings up in The Yukon or Alaska might be a great opportunity. It will take resources, time and planning but I have started to formulate the idea in my mind and I think it will come to pass. Who knows how the energy of the North might influence my work? The landscape is unmistakably beautiful up there, yet it is those connections with people who gather there, who make it what it is through community and relationships, THAT is what makes places unforgettable...the rest is a gorgeous stage. It is the players that matter most. Connection is everything because everything is connected.  

“Our life is composed greatly from dreams, from the unconscious, and they must be brought into connection with action. They must be woven together." ~Anais Nin

Alaska Calling! Part 2: Exploring Hope and Gull Rock

“Learn from yesterday, live for today, hope for tomorrow.”~Albert Einstein

I think that experiences needs to ferment, to distill within your mind, until suddenly you appreciate them again with a fresh and renewed energy that only comes with the passage of time. I am still turning over journeys from months ago in my subconscious. Only now can I start to assimilate the variables together to see how it might manifest in a creative capacity through paintings or writings. I suppose the key is to not rush this but simply let it happen of its own accord. After spending some important time outdoors, in the elements, I can feel that influence starting to seep into my paintings, yet it is not fully articulated yet. I am not sure how it will transpire, but the Newfoundland exhibition of paintings will be a good indicator in this litmus test of sorts. 

The day after climbing Bird Ridge near Anchorage we set out to hike to Gull Rock, a small and isolated campground at the end of a mostly flat 5.5 mile hike near the town of Hope. It is about 2.5 hours from Anchorage to Hope I believe, but we stopped to photograph moose, fast flowing rivers and other panoramas en route so that time might be a bit inaccurate.  

A typical scene in Alaska but one that never ceases to catch your breath.

On our way we stopped to have a look down at this frigid, clear river with the mountains

 peering over our shoulders of course

At this time of year in Alaska you have a lot of flexibility in terms of when you reach your destination. The sun goes down around 11:30pm so you can arrive later in the day and still accomplish everything you set out to do. Such was the case this day when we arrived in Hope to have a look around at about 4pm. It was quiet, with a few people walking up the main street, some RVs parked in some angled spaces nearby, some quaint shops, a little art gallery, a pub, a coffee shop. We didn't stay long as we wanted to get hiking but it was a nice little rest stop on the way. I have learned quickly in Alaska that if you don't have a supply of soy milk with you, you're out of luck. Powdered soy milk was the one thing I had forgotten to buy in Burlington before departing for Anchorage. Never underestimate the smallest creature comfort! 

The town of Hope

It wasn't a long drive from Hope to reach the trailhead. We shouldered our packs and set out. On the way we wrote in a little register that logs who walks in, when they walk out and any other observations such as bear sightings. We didn't see anything too ominous on there and signed in. In a moment of fear I imagined some nasty bear confrontation after which I wouldn't be signing out of the ledger but that moment quickly passed. There were a lot of people near the trailhead: campers at their campsites, a couple on a bike, hikers and their dogs. It was busier than we thought it would be but I relished the company for the time being knowing that we were venturing into some heavily trafficked bear areas. 

Some rather foreboding signs at the trailhead. 

Hey, knowledge is power and I read each one.

Compared to Bird Ridge the day before, the hike out to Gull Rock was like night and day. We had 35lb packs on on this hike compared to day packs so that made it a bit more challenging but overall the hike was absolutely beautiful with an almost continual view of those gorgeous tidal flats out on the Turnigain Arm area of the Cook Inlet. The trail was perched along a steep drop off toward the water on the right and climbed sharply upwards on the left. There were a few downed trees that had been chainsawed fairly recently and other than a few minor obstacles such as roots and rocks it was pretty flat and easy going. 

Across Turnigain Arm is Bird Ridge, the peak I clambered up the day before. You can't tell from this photo but the Seward Highway runs along the edge of the water at the base of those mountains opposite our position. 

The hike in took about 2.5 hours as I wanted to take lots of pictures along the way and just stand in the quiet and listen to that beautiful silence for a brief time. I admit my nerves were on edge a bit knowing bears were around and every stick that snapped made my head spin in concern. However, my apprehension receded as we neared Gull Rock with the promise of a great view. We met a few people on the trail, including the couple who were negotiating it on their bikes. They indicated that there were some people firing a gun out at the point, right where we were headed. This knowledge reignited my wariness but we figured we'd investigate when we got there and see what was going on.

Don't be fooled by this photo. This rock fall dropped sharply downward and gave me a bit of vertigo frankly as I stepped along the trail that bisected the seemingly precipitous slope. 

Check out that view! I need no further proof that this place is magical from looking at this shot. There was a stillness to the water, surprisingly little wind when we reached the point and just a feeling of an energy humming below the surface of the land. Maybe it was the fresh air making me feel light-headed but to be in the midst of this place with the world opening up like that was simply amazing. 

The trail was springy underfoot with natural vegetation and decomposing matter providing a cushion to the hike. There weren't many bugs, especially out at the point where the breeze kept them at bay, but they were there on the periphery. Even a cloud of them would not have kept me from enjoying each moment to the fullest.

Along the trail near Gull Rock there were the remnants of some cabins from decades ago. They were barely visible through the trees. Some intrepid souls surely had their work cut out for them out here. 

Gull Rock is the small piece of land jutting out near the left hand horizon. That was our destination.  I have a small digital recorder that I regretted not having with me. It could serve to help bring back memories, ideas for paintings or just to recall that time, yet I had also forgotten that back in Ontario. Live and learn!

We made it to the campsite area on Gull Rock around 7:30pm or so. Searching the area, we soon located the source of the gunfire: three young men and a women told us they were "hunting squirrel for dinner". The one boy had what looked like a .44 Magnum "for bears" on his side and he brandished a pistol that presumably was for acquiring dinner. They invited us down to the beach for a campfire but we did not join them. The shooting subsided after awhile and we reckoned they had either been successful or given up the hunt.

We set up camp pretty quickly in time to have some dinner and watch one of the most beautiful sunsets I had ever seen. The campsite was also pretty amazing, with snow capped mountains off in the distance and nothing but the opportunity to experience the slow ebbing of time and temperature into the evening's coolness. 

Sitting by the campfire as the sun was going down. Unfiltered gorgeousness.

The beginning of the amazing sunset

Which continued...

And continued...

Until finally...

Was finished. A new light was left in its place. A softer, cooler light that framed the far off mountains. These mountains have not been mapped or climbed, and are, essentially, unexplored. I forget their names but it sounds Tolkienesque and haunting to me. I'll find out and add in that information later. I found that knowledge of their wild status to be comforting, knowing humans haven't traipsed around there very much, if at all.

The campfire kept the mosquitoes at bay fortunately

I love the colours that exist in the burning coals of the fire. Cool blues and hot reds co-exist. The colours remind me of Mary Pratt's artwork. Pratt paints colour like nobody's business. I have never seen light and colour on canvas and here is a good example. She has some beautiful paintings of fire that I cannot seem to find reference of but these coals reminded me of those works in particular.

The night was cool with the constant buzz of mosquitoes but I slept a dreamless and sound sleep, undeterred by their relentless pecking at the tent. The somnolence you experience in the wilderness after a good hike is like a blanket of sweet fatigue that covers you entirely and I woke refreshed the next morning.

The lookout near our camp at Gull Rock provided a unbelievable view out to Turnigain Arm

After breaking camp  we made good time back along the trail, returning to the trailhead in just over two hours. I signed out of the ledger, happily bear-free, filled with more amazing memories and the urge to see even more of glorious Alaska the following day. The beauty all around was almost too much to absorb, hence the protracted infusion of great feelings, observations and memories. I know that they will continue to have an effect on my work, mindset and desire to spend a lot more time in the North.  

“Hope is the thing with feathers, that perches in the soul, and sings the tune without words, and never stops at all.” ~Emily Dickinson