Salt Spring Island Part 2: Déja Vu, Giant Trees and Happy Hitchhikers

"If you want to be happy, be."

~Leo Tolstoy

Salt Spring Island, a little piece of paradise between Vancouver Island and the mainland, has a reputation that precedes it. As I mentioned in my previous blog entry, there certainly is a supremely laid back feeling that hangs in the air on the island. It is as if there is this bubble that protects Salt Spring from the rest of the world. My mobile phone barely worked there, which was fine as I appreciated having it on a shelf for once rather than in my pocket. 

I had my sketch book with me but again, I like to shoot with my camera to take in as much as possible rather than sitting and sketching for an hour. It is as though I suspect it will all disappear at any moment and I have to hurry to take pictures before it slips away.

The flowers were so vibrant wherever I looked

Perhaps it is the atmosphere, the mist in the air, the changeable and often wet weather that I love so much. Whatever the cause the COLOURS were so very intense. I know that I like to take pictures of my paintings for archival purposes right after or right before a rainstorm. It tends to intensify the colours. Perhaps this the reason for the same phenomenon happening on Salt Spring. 

Part of the property where I stayed while on Salt Spring, at the north end of the Island, there was a pasture where a couple of horses lived. Shena, the pregnant mare shown above, gave birth to a healthy foal the next day. My host Theresa and I were fortunate to spend a few minutes with Shena as she spent this last day patiently awaiting the birth of her baby.  She was rubbing up against a tree and seemed rather preoccupied, yet she eyed us with such a soft and gentle gaze that we did not stay long but talked with her and then left her alone.

I spent a lot of time driving and hiking around Salt Spring. You could cover the entire island by car in half a day and I made a small side trip down to Moonstruck Cheese, an organic cheese company on the south end of the island.  I am vegan, but my good friend Jim spoke of visiting this place years ago and then promptly forgetting his cheese in the fridge at the place where he was staying. I knew I had to find some for him. It was a quaint little place, with some chickens and horses on the property. One other couple was poking about like I was and we found our way into the little shop where there were two fridges filled with the small wheels of cheese and samples of each kind. I took their suggestion and picked up two small cheeses for Jim. It was only then that we realized that there was a little tin to leave our money in as no one works in the shop. Apparently the owners use the honour system of trusting the customer to not run away with the tin of money left there. I thought it was both brave and quaint at the same time. 

Chickens at Moonstruck Cheese. They were resting. I think I woke them up.

As I headed down to my friend Ron's place for a bite to eat I passed a hitchhiker near where I was staying. I stopped and picked her up. She was exuberant, had a beautiful spirit, wonderful energy and we hit it off straight away,  I gave her a lift to the south end of the island where she lived. She is from Mississauga, a city about half an hour from where I live here in Burlington, Ontario. We laughed at our Ontario connection, agreed on our love of British Columbia and chatted amiably for awhile before I dropped her off. It is people like Paula who stick in my mind; lovely souls with a history just as interesting as any pebble on a beach. Perhaps Paula and I will not be around as long as that pebble, but we live just as authentically as any rock shaped smooth by the water. We feel the gravity of the world just as consistently and we are flung about in tempests not terribly different from one another from time to time. 

Paula, a kindred spirit.

I went to visit my friend Ron as well as John and his family one evening. The view down from the mountain was wonderful, with lots of greenery and even some rainbows after the recent rainfall. I tried to squeeze every moment out of my time there, knowing I could use it as creative fuel for the fire at a later time. 

Probably the happiest fern I have ever seen

This was literally a carpet of green. A thriving little ecosystem within the space

 of one square foot

The trees seemed to be endless, invincible with an inner strength that was palpable. 

More wonderful arbutus. Look at the amazing colours! The "skin" that has fallen to the side is a terrific eggplant colour. Arbutus is one of my favorite things in the world. Each branch and root is a soft palette of hues that I haven't seen anywhere else. 

Some of the fir trees were true giants. One in particular was estimated to be over 300 years old. While walking below these trees I truly felt as though I was a part of something larger, a small cog within the wheel of a great organism. It was a humbling feeling, a feeling that I was in a very special place indeed. I was almost paralyzed from the thought of doing anything creative, because the stimuli was so overwhelming that I could only take it in and let it incubate for a later time. The air was temperate, a bit on the cool side. There was water dripping from branches, a few animals in the undergrowth, and a lovely quietness to it all. The silence was not deafening like it was in Alaska. It was different. Sound was different. It is hard to explain but each place has its own fingerprint of textures and sounds, qualities which make them exactly what they are, where they are, and found nowhere else.  

I know that I will get back to Salt Spring Island. I have made friends there, and as you know, people who live in a place draw us back just as much as any part of the landscape because they form the experience with their friendship as much as exploring on one's own. I would love to live there for a season, or for a few weeks. To set up a little studio and just work for a time, to let the mist sink in to my thoughts and onto the canvas, that would be wonderful. Anything is possible, its just a matter of making it happen. As they say, where there is a will, there is a way.

A full rainbow to end a very full adventure on Salt Spring. 

Artwork Update:

Here are some snippets of paintings that will appear in my solo show "Newfoundland Portraits" in November 2009 at Abbozzo Gallery in Oakville, Ontario. I am working steadily on new pieces each day. It will be an exciting show! You can find out more information about the exhibition on my website here. One of the paintings has already sold and the show is still 10 months away! If you are interested in seeing the pieces please contact Abbozzo Gallery. The show will run from November 5-22, 2009 with the opening reception happening on November 6th from 7-10pm. I hope to see you there!

Have a wonderful day, evening or morning, wherever you are,

Heather

"The soul should always stand ajar, ready to welcome the ecstatic experience." 

~Emily Dickinson

Salt Spring Island Part 1: So Close And So Far Away

“It is wonderful to feel the grandness of Canada in the raw,

not because she is Canada but because she's something sublime that you

were born into, some great rugged power that you are a part of.”

~Emily Carr

In June of 2008 I visited Salt Spring Island, British Columbia. It is a small island (70 sq mi) a short ferry ride from Victoria on one side and Crofton on the other. There are more routes by ferry but those are the only two that come to mind at present.

This was my sixth time visiting British Columbia and each time I enjoy myself even more. From the first time I landed in Vancouver years ago I knew that some corner of BC or, certainly the west coast of Canada, was going to be my home one day. When that day will be is still up in the air, but I am patient. I know its not going anywhere, and it gives me something to aim for as the cost of living is a lot higher out there. I will not be dissuaded however. British Columbia is in my blood. I don't want to write off The Yukon of course, as I still have to visit Whitehorse and explore there, but British Columbia, with its wet weather, cool temperatures and excellent coffee, is always beckoning.

Eagles, greenery, good company and fresh air. What more could one ask for?

After a few days reconnecting with my good friend Anne in Duncan, she dropped me off at the Crofton-Vesuvius crossing over to Salt Spring Island. There were bald eagles fishing and the sky was overcast as I spied the small ferry starting its 20 minute journey over to our side of the blue grey water. I was going to meet my friend John, explore, and take in this small island which so many artists and craftspeople are drawn towards.

The section of the wildly immaculate garden at my Bed And Breakfast

I made my through the circuitous backroads that run in veins around the island. There are only 10,000 people who live on Salt Spring Island, depending on the season I think. From the moment I stepped off of the ferry I knew I was truly somewhere special. I had been forewarned of this phenomenon by Anne and others. I remember musing to myself "really? Could it be that different from the rest of Vancouver Island?" It really was. If you can believe it, the pace was even SLOWER than the rest of the west coast that I had experienced. It was in the air. It had a charm without being cloying. It was quaint without being precious. I fell in love with it immediately.

The harbor in Ganges, the hub of the island where there is

a fantastic market on weekends.

I spent some time with John and his family and then poked around Ganges, enjoying some of the best coffee I had ever had. People were friendly and laid back and it was easy to strike up conversations with just about anyone. I encountered the same thing in Newfoundland. Actually, Virginians too are some of the friendliest folks I have ever met. In Ontario we are friendly, but we tend to be a little more aloof than people I have met on the coasts. We are a bit more insulated and self-contained, whereas easy small talk seems almost rote out east and west. That brief connection goes deeper than you would expect. It supports a feeling of community and warmth that roots you to a place, that fosters affection. Salt Spring had that energy to it.

This affable and humble gentleman was collecting money for ALS

research outside the supermarket in Ganges

The weather during my stay was as changeable as any twelve hours in England. I find their climates similar and perhaps that is why I enjoy BC so much. I love the rain and the cold. Perhaps I am odd, perhaps its genetic, but give me a cloudy day with layers of sweaters and a mug of coffee over sitting and sweating in 30 degree Celsius heat any day of the week and twice on Sunday.

No multiplexes here. The movie theatre on Salt Spring Island.

No, I'm not kidding. 

John was celebrating his birthday and there was a great party lined up for the weekend at Beaver Point Hall on the south end of Salt Spring. The building had so much character, with beautiful hardwood all throughout. It was a perfect place for a gathering and yet another opportunity to meet some pretty terrific people.

Beaver Point Hall

Festivities continued late into the night.

I had plenty of time to go on some hikes and wander around Salt Spring as I was there for four days. Up at the top of the island I visited Booth Bay Beach. I remember stepping on to the rocks as it was low tide and seeing the earth shift all around me. For a moment I could not register what I was seeing. The very ground seemed alive. It was then that I realized that millions of crabs were moving like a living carpet along the sand and rocks. I stepped carefully around them as I hopped from rock to rock, all the time appreciating how privileged I was to share this space with them. I moved along side of them as they went about their daily ebbs and flows of habit and instinct. They were primitive, beautiful, ephemeral, fragile and resilient at the same time. I was moved then and I am still moved by them now as I write this.

I was the only one on Booth Bay Beach, but one of millions too,

 including this Great Blue Heron.

The environment was filled with all sorts of exciting textures and colours. I loved their variety and unique qualities. Below are some examples. 

Driftwood with lines like fields of wheat or canyons from space

Shells like pale spectres sitting on wet driftwood

Barnacles cling, petrified, to the rock

Silvery driftwood that appears charred

My favorite tree: Arbutus. Arbutus is very unique and found in only a few places on the planet. 

I had a lot of time to myself during my stay on Salt Spring Island. I was careful to be as open to impression as I could be. I tried to keep my mind uncluttered with its usual staccato chatter that can periodically unhinge me. I simply relished its silence and let it soak in, setting aside this special time, unfettered by obligations, prompted on simply by my own two feet, the map in my hand and my trusty camera. It was a time of contrasts. Lots of convivial company with John and his friends and family, plus lots of time to simply let the rest of the world drift away for a time. I have never experienced lucid dreaming but I would guess the experience was similar to that phenomenon: you are aware that you are sleeping, yet acutely aware of what you are dreaming about. Salt Spring was a bit like that. I will write more about my time there soon. 

Have a wonderful day/evening/night/morning, wherever you are,

Heather

"We live in a very tense society. We are pulled apart....and we all need to learn how to pull ourselves together...I think that at least part of the answer lies in solitude." ~Helen Hayes

Resilience During Recession

"The world is but a canvas to the imagination." ~Henry David Thoreau

When people occasionally ask me if I see the glass as half-empty or half-full I reply that "it depends on what's in the glass". Despite its cheekiness I think there is truth to the statement. What is it that makes your life pithy, filled with beautiful complexity or graceful simplicity? How did you get to where you are, do you savor the moment, and what do you wish to do with the exciting days before you?

These last few months have seen a decided dip in our economy. Recession has gripped the world and like it or not we are all affected. I remain optimistic that history will repeat itself and that eventually things will turn around once again. As an artist, it is particularly difficult right now because one of the first things that people want to do to alleviate financial strain is to spend less, and paintings are not exactly a "necessity". I am sure, however, that some passionate artists and collectors would heartily disagree. Thus I, like everyone, have to ride out the storm and continue to produce work, taking comfort that I will have a great group of paintings waiting to greet the sun and the gallery when this tempest has passed. 

  Hiking up Little Whistler Peak in Whistler, British Columbia

I have spoken with colleagues about the situation recently and all soberly advise me to "keep your head down, keep producing paintings and it will be ok". That is exactly what I shall continue to do. I have a solo show in less than a year so I have a large amount of work that I can do between now and November. I doubt that the recession will have passed by November 2009 but I simply cannot wait to show these paintings of Newfoundland.  That is why one keeps creating...out of spiritual necessity, emotional conviction and the desire to share your vision with the world. What more could a person want?

Being frugal out of necessity is tough. Being frugal out of choice is enjoyable. The gap between need and want has been growing over the years thanks among many things to successful marketing. However perhaps now, in the dimly lit room of our present economy, we can cherish the worn t-shirt rather than tossing it out, make more meals at home with our loved ones rather than splurging at a restaurant and perhaps refocus on what is most important: the things that money simply cannot buy.

"There is an ecstasy that marks the summit of life, and beyond which life cannot rise. And such is the paradox of living, this ecstasy comes when one is most alive, and it comes as a complete forgetfulness that one is alive."~Jack London

P.S. Bravo! Canada filmed a special profiling my work in 2007. It will be airing on Bravo! Channel all across Canada on Monday, February 9th at 8:30am Eastern Standard Time. I hope you are able to catch it! It is on at an odd time but thank goodness for PVRs.

"Anxiety Is The Hand Maiden To Creativity"

"Self With Shadow", 2008, 22"x28", oil on canvas

"The madness of depression is the antithesis of violence. It is a storm indeed, but a storm of murk. Soon evident are the slowed-down responses, near paralysis, psychic energy throttled back close to zero. Ultimately, the body is affected and feels sapped, drained."~William Styron

Recently I was asked to illustrate an article by the author and essayist William Styron, who passed away in 2006. The assignment could not have come at a more appropriate time. Styron  wrote about his personal experience with clinical depression so eloquently in his book "Darkness Visible". It made a huge impression on me, as I have suffered periodic bouts with depression and anxiety over my lifetime. 

I am honored to do this illustration, which is for a dog magazine called "The Bark". Keep an eye out for it on your local book stand in the future. It will be a portrait of a man walking his dog, simple enough, but hopefully it will have some weight given the wonderful text next to it.

There is still a lot of stigma attached to mental illness. I suppose it is rote to expect an artist to suffer some sort of psychological affliction if they are to get anything of substance accomplished. I have not asked many of my colleagues but I would bet that the incidence of depression and anxiety is no larger in them than in the general population. Of course this is pure supposition, but my own experience with depression and anxiety is acutely real.

I write about my own history with inner turmoil here because I think writing and sharing is cathartic. It gives one a sense of lightness to discuss what ails you. Perhaps some readers can identify with me. 

In terms of its connection to creativity, many would argue as T.S. Eliot does that "anxiety is the hand maiden to creativity". I do think that anxiety can be helpful in that you tend to get things done simply out of a nervous freneticism, but when it reaches its zenith you suffer and are literally frozen by your worries. Personally I find that when anxiety reaches this point I literally cannot paint. My mind sabotages my entire being and I am quite helpless until I figure out a way to overcome the situation. It is a battle, and I wish desperately that I did not have anxiety but I do think we are hardwired psychologically to a large extent. I know that there has been a hereditary link drawn with depression for example. So the question is: how to prevail over it?

Thus, if our minds are to a large extent as unique as our fingerprints, and as intractable, we really have to get creative if we want to overcome what haunts us. Exercise is my mental panacea. It distracts me. That is imperative with anxiety. I talk to friends; I take myself out of isolation, because that is where it really gets a grip on you, when you are alone. You can see a pattern here as, being an artist, I spend a heck of a lot of time alone. Ironically too, I cherish my solitary time, but this is the price I pay.

I have created some artwork while in the midst of turmoil. Two pieces are included below as examples. However, most of my work is not as overt, the inner strife is hidden behind the faces of my subjects, myself included. I do this because as I have said before, I want the viewer to wonder, to not have answers provided. Therefore they have to instill their own individual experience into the painting by providing personal context.

"Self-Portrait, Poignant", 2008, 8"x6", oil on canvas

"Self-Portrait, Between", 2005, oil on canvas, 16"x20"

With anxiety and depression the key is to get on top of the circular thinking, the what-if scenarios, and stop the thoughts in their tracks so that I can get on with doing what I love to do: creating art.

I realize that I will probably always struggle with anxiety, and depression to a lesser degree. If it must be however, I will equip myself with the strongest tools possible to get through it. Tireless support from loved ones is invaluable. Thank-you. You know who you are. I suppose I should be thankful and embrace these trials of the mind really. They are who I am, and I wouldn't want to be anyone else. 

"Do not anticipate trouble, or worry about what may never happen. Keep in the sunlight."~Benjamin Franklin

Here are some snippets of paintings that will appear in my solo show on Newfoundland in November at Abbozzo Gallery in Oakville, Ontario. I am working steadily on new pieces each day. It will be an exciting show! You can find out more information about the exhibition on my website here. One of the paintings has already sold and the show is still 10 months away! If you are interested in seeing the pieces please contact Abbozzo Gallery.

On another note, Bravo! Canada filmed a special profiling my work in 2007. It will be airing on Bravo! Channel all across Canada on Monday, February 9th at 8:30am Eastern Standard Time. I hope you are able to catch it! It is on at an odd time but thank goodness for PVRs.

Have a wonderful day,

Heather

"Every experience is a paradox in that it means to be absolute, and yet is relative; in that it somehow always goes beyond itself and yet never escapes itself."~T.S. Eliot

Andrew Wyeth: Paying Respect To A Fallen Giant

"Master Bedroom" by Andrew Wyeth

"It's a shock for me to go through and see all those years of painting my life, which is very personal for me. It's a very difficult thing for an artist to look back at his work." ~Andrew Wyeth

Today the world lost one of its greatest painters. Andrew Wyeth passed away this morning at the ripe old age of 91. What a full life, and what a gift he shared with us. His artistic opus spans decades. He has given the world some of the most beautiful paintings I have set my eyes upon. Wyeth was a realist painter of the highest calibre, a seeker of truth within the details, a patient draftsman and unwavering devotee to his work. 

There are two books that sit next to my easel. One is a book of Lucien Freud paintings. The other one is an autobiography of Andrew Wyeth. In this book he examines each of his paintings and discusses how and why he did them, impressions and reflections on the pieces etc. It is wonderful to read how his mind works, how he solves problems, mistakes that were made and corrected and the overall emotional impact of the piece on him. 

I use these books as touchstones. They are friends and inspiration never more than an arm's reach away. I might not look at them for months, but they are there, a constant reminder of what can be accomplished with hard work and dedication. I am more influenced by Freud from a technical standpoint and Wyeth touches me on a more emotional level. Freud is the man of nudes, and I rarely paint the nude figure. Clothes are more mysterious to me anyway from a symbolic standpoint. Freud is unrelenting, a genius of colour and paint application and his work ethic is simply second to none. 

Wyeth however, scratches an altogether different creative itch. He is a man of emotion...yet hidden emotion; subdued, just out of reach. His paintings of solitary figures striding across snow-covered landscapes are truly haunting. There is a melancholia that pervades his work, a wistfulness and an echo of times past that we can see through rusty doors, the chipped paint of a windowsill, the tattered lace of a curtain blowing in the wind. At times I find his work so poignant that I cannot look at it for long, it brings to the surface my natural inclination to ruminate and I have to keep that in check. 

Here are three paintings from my work that are strongly influenced by Wyeth: 

"Back Stairs, Oil On Canvas, 36"x24"

"The Rasberry House", oil on canvas, 15"x30"

"Rob, Drifting", oil on canvas, 48"x36"

Technically his work is unsurpassed. I personally adore his watercolours but his tempera pieces are beyond measure. Even if I could paint that well, I have not the patience for the unbelievable details that he achieves. Truly his work is timeless. I love how his figures rarely look right at the viewer. His compositions are fantastic with a lovely balance through negative space. The seemingly arbitrary loose brushstrokes in some of his studies are far from haphazard. They serve to provide texture and movement to his work.

"Farm Road" by Andrew Wyeth

I could speak all day about this man who has shaped me as an artist over the years. Although I never met him, we are connected. His work resonates with me on a metaphysical level. I too seek to paint absence, to paint what lies beneath the expression, to create a world just out of sight. Thank-you Andrew Wyeth. Although you are gone, your work will continue to reverberate within myself and so many others. 

"I get letters from people about my work. The thing that pleases me most is that my work touches their feelings. In fact, they don't talk about the paintings. They end up telling me the story of their life or how their father died."~Andrew Wyeth

On another note, Bravo! Canada filmed a special profiling my work in 2007. It will be airing on Bravo! Channel all across Canada on Monday, February 9th at 8:30am Eastern Standard Time.  I hope you are able to catch it! It is on at an odd time but thank goodness for PVRs.

Dwell in possibility,

Heather

Twillingate and Fogo Island: Exploring Newfoundland, Part 5

The view from the lookout near the lighthouse in Twillingate, Newfoundland

"Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things you didn't do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover." ~Mark Twain

The last leg of my time spent in Newfoundland was spent in Twillingate and the surrounding area. We appreciated the different topographies and qualities of the east side of Newfoundland versus the west side. However I had heard that Twillingate was an area not to be missed. 

We departed Gros Morne National Park and drove for about 5 hours to reach Twillingate. This area of Newfoundland is known as the Iceberg Capital Of The World...numerous tours head out during the summer months to spot the icebergs and whales which are both abundant at that time of year. On our way towards our destination we noted with smiles the absence of law enforcement. The roads were narrow and undulating, clean, relatively quiet and boasted miles and miles of undisturbed forests. It brings me great happiness to look at a map of Newfoundland and Labrador and see that the centre of Newfoundland contains virtually no habitation by human beings...apparently it is mostly composed of bogs and forests, realms not very conducive to human settlement.  I have not been to Labrador but from what I hear it is even more remote and undisturbed by development. 

The view from our hosts' backyard in Twillingate

We explored Twillingate for really only one full day but it was enough to get a taste for this gorgeous corner of Newfoundland. When I see those lovely commercials advertising Newfoundland Labrador on television, the ones with the cliffs and clotheslines flapping, that is what Twillingate is to me. We drove up to the lighthouse beyond Crow Head, a truly stunning drive. Near the lighthouse are a web of hiking trails, some very steep, and we meandered along them for a good distance. 

The rather abbreviated sign at one of the small restaurants in Twillingate

The view along the road at Crow's Head on the way up to the lighthouse 

Not surprisingly, I did not get a picture of the lighthouse but preferred to capture the sunset. The quality of light reminded me a bit of Alaska with a similar palette of colours.

While in Wesleyville a new friend had suggested exploring Fogo and/or Change Islands. We researched the two places, knowing that we could not cover both areas in one day. We settled on Fogo Island and preceded to plan our ferry trips to and from this little piece of paradise.

This graffiti that we passed on the way to the ferry was, like all of the other graffiti we saw in Newfoundland, quite tasteful, and even a little artistic!

The small town where the ferry departs from is called Farewell. I adore the names of places in Newfoundland....they range from the charmingly optimistic (Come-By-Chance, Bumble-Bee-Bight, Heart's Content, Heart's Ease, Comfort Cove, Little Paradise) to the melancholic (Famish Gut, Confusion Bay, Misery Point, Empty Basket, Breakheart Point).

When I think of Newfoundland I think of purple-blue water, stalwart rocks, uninterrupted miles of trees and the open expanse of possibility.  We drove on to the little ferry that took us over to Fogo and were met with an area of Newfoundland that was even more unique than we anticipated. There is a strong Irish presence on Fogo. Fogo Island has a faithfully preserved fishing stage on the Dwyer Premises. We visited this piece of history and were greeted by a lovely woman who showed us around and also took us up to Lane House Museum, the oldest house in Tilting. 

At the far side town an Irish cloverleaf stands near a cannon.

The beautifully preserved fishing stage, flakes and wharf of the Dwyer Premises

While touring these historical places I was struck once again with a somber feeling at what a difficult and often short life many Newfoundlanders once lived. Many families had children numbering into the double digits and would have been a challenge to support. They had to subsist on what small amount of money they could earn from their cod fishing. Their lives, sometimes brief, were hopefully full of happiness despite their hardship. 

The beautiful little town of Tilting

The view from the trail just outside of town. The trail continues around the cove after passing by the Old Irish Cemetery which is purportedly the oldest Irish-Catholic cemetery in Newfoundland. 

We approached this interesting little farm near the trail that we were hiking along. I love the supports that ballast the fence. There were sheep who eyed us suspiciously just to the right of the frame here. 

We stopped for a few minutes at Sandy Cove Beach on our way out of Tilting. The colours of the landscape were so vivid, even the lichen seen here on this rock were shouting out their personalities. I loved the blue tinge to the rock compared with the orange of the lichen...a perfect example of the inherent resilience that ALL the inhabitants of this land possess.

Further along the road towards the ferry that would take us to Farewell we spotted this beautiful church, back lit by the sun. Berry-pickers were everywhere, and I ate more jam in two weeks than I have in my whole life. Cloudberry jam was my favorite, followed closely by Partridgeberry jam. All of it was delicious and I happily dined on toast and jam very frequently as Newfoundland has a dearth of vegetarian options! 

The church on the road to the ferry

On our way back to Wesleyville from Twillingate we were told that Pike's Arm, a nearby lookout, was quite stunning and worth a stop. 360 degrees of beauty greeted us at the top of steep flights of stairs. The land seemed to rise effortlessly out of the water like whales breaching and heading back down to the depths below. These strings of little islands formed a beautiful archipelago dotting the horizon. If you are in the area, I highly recommend stopping in Pike's Arm, Twillingate and  Fogo Island....in fact it is hard to recommend just one place to experience as they are all very special. If you wish to see a painting that I recently completed about the return trip to Farewell you can read about it here.

For two weeks we saw no moose...not a one. I had been warned numerous times about them, to avoid driving at night, to avoid driving at dusk and of course to avoid driving early in the morning. Nevertheless I had expected to see moose over our two weeks in Newfoundland and we were beginning to wonder if we would ever see one. I kept saying "you wait, we'll see one before we leave". Sure enough, on our way to the airport in Gander, our wish came true.

It was about 8am and we rounded a bend in the road to come upon these beautiful moose the road. They looked at us rather skeptically and I stopped the car lest they feel threatened and become aggressive. In a moment they had disappeared into the woods as quickly and deftly as they had appeared. 

As I have mentioned before, the lack of air pollution lets you see clearly right to the horizon in Newfoundland. Here the light was refracting off of raindrops in the distance, giving them a pink hue. It was a fittingly moving image as one of the last that left an impression on us as we headed home to Ontario.

"To live a creative life we must lose our fear of being wrong."

~Joseph Chilton Pearce

Here is some information on my solo exhibition in November 2009. If you have any questions please contact Abbozzo Gallery. 

You can read about some of the paintings for this exhibition on my other blog, Heather Horton Artwork. 

Newfoundland Portraits

November 5-22nd, 2009

Abbozzo Gallery, Oakville, Ontario

Opening Reception November 6th, 7-10pm

Have a wonderful day and take good care,

Heather