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

Walking With Friends

Walking with Ed along the Stampede Trail, near Healy, Alaska

"Walking with a friend in the dark is better than walking alone in the light."~ Hellen Keller

Painting is usually a pretty solitary affair. You sit or stand, you examine, you apply paint, usually without one word spoken to anyone but yourself. As I have said before, this solitary aspect can be helpful or a hindrance. It allows you to focus, it invites immersion into your task, but it can also produce anxiety too. Therefore getting together with friends is especially enjoyable as it provides an emotional and social counterpoint to all of that time alone. 

This morning I was thinking about how wonderful it is to walk with friends. Whether in the middle of nowhere in Alaska or down the street by your house, it doesn't matter. What matters is who you're with and the special connection that you have with that person. We are all worlds within ourselves, little universes contained within flesh and bone, and it makes sense that we would leave impressions and change the composition of those next to us with advice, opinions and a listening ear. Our interactions are as organic and impermeable as any leaf on the ground, but hopefully not as ephemeral! 

Hiking near Kanuti Hot Springs near the Arctic Circle, Alaskan Interior

I now have seven paintings completed for my exhibition in November. I am so pleased to see my walls fill up again, to see a whole experience grow piece by piece into its own, larger construction. I will put details of the show again at the bottom of this blog entry. I think that we all have places that we have visited that are almost constantly in our mind, even in a small nook of thought, but always there. Newfoundland inhabits a special spot in my heart and I really hope that this affection is transcribed faithfully in this group of paintings. I firmly believe that when you love what you do, when there is joy in the doing of your work, that others pick up on it. It is as though you literally can instill emotion into your work, a chemical reaction as authentic as any oxidation or exothermic event. 

Mel and I at the edge of the escarpment, Mt. Nemo, Ontario

Standing on Gulkana Glacier with Trevor in the Alaskan Range

Friends lift us out of pools of rumination that we sometimes slip into. They can soothe frayed nerves and alter our ways of thinking about things. They are a shelter for us and we can provide the same in return. For as long as we have walked this earth, places where people have gathered to share thoughts and nourish friendships have existed. Whether in a sunlit piazza or under the quiet shelter of a redwood, we need to commune with one another to be fully realized individuals. Friends are our touchstones and the anchors that we need when the gales become too strong. 

Billie and I on the beach in Virginia

The other day I was talking a friend and she made the astute observation that as our network of friends increases through travel, that our world grows smaller, but in a good way. It makes sense. If we live our lives in one room (as an extreme example), the world is larger than life, overwhelming even. But if we get out there and make some tracks, double sets, with people that we meet along the way, our world shrinks so that soon you realize that we are all connected more than we realized. I take comfort in that knowledge. 

Exploring Wesleyville with Rob in Newfoundland

As the spring starts to thaw us over the next few months I want to make a concerted effort to apply continued diligence in the studio but also balance it with a healthy dose of convivial communion with cherished friends and family. I think that work will feed off of play and vice versa. There is much to be said for spending time alone. There we recharge our batteries, distill our thoughts and form our opinions, and simply rest. Friendship takes energy, to give and receive can deplete us, but in a good and necessary way. However once we have spent a certain time alone we must strike out again, with dear friends, on new paths of thought and exploration. 

"Life is partly what we make it, and partly what is made by the friends we choose". 

~Tennessee Williams

Here is some information on my solo exhibition this November. I hope to meet you there!

Newfoundland Portraits

November 5-22nd, 2009

Abbozzo Gallery, Oakville, Ontario

Opening Reception November 6th, 7-10pm

"Jim, Bennett's High Island", oil on canvas, 30"x40", 2009

"Cyril In the Sea Runner", Oil On Panel, 12"x16", 2009

If you are interested in seeing any of these paintings please contact Abbozzo Gallery. They will be happy to answer any of your questions.

Musings from "The Rock": Exploring Newfoundland, Part 1

Dusk in Wesleyville, Newfoundland

"Do not go where the path  may lead, go instead where there is no path and leave a trail."~George Eliot

My second major journey of 2008 was to Newfoundland in September. My good friend Robert and I flew to Gander and spent the next two weeks exploring a large part of the northern portion of the province.

It was through the generosity of my Oakville, Ontario dealer Abbozzo Gallery and David Blackwood,  that I was able to travel to Newfoundland. David is Canada's most celebrated printmaker. His etchings and paintings positively glow with an almost ethereal light amidst a palette of warms and cools. You can click on David's name above to view his website. His work is exquisite in its depiction of the unique geography and his own personal connection with his home province of Newfoundland. I strongly encourage you to look at his work. You will not forget it.

My intent with traveling to Newfoundland was to shoot reference for an exhibition of paintings to take place in the fall of 2009 in Oakville at Abbozzo Gallery. We spent a total of two weeks in Newfoundland, covering huge distances and meeting many wonderful and unforgettable people along the way.

The road to Wesleyville

Every time someone who has visited Newfoundland speaks of it they almost become wistful, as though it holds a special place within their heart. I understand why that is now. The land seems to exist between two realities...it is so unique that Robert and I often felt as though we were in a different reality entirely. The province is huge, and we were under no illusions that we could breeze around the province within two weeks. Thus we stuck to the top half of the province and explored the northeastern section, over to Gros Morne National Park, up to Twillingate and Fogo Island in the north and then back to our home base of Wesleyville.

Sunset over Wesleyville 

The atmosphere is so acutely pure and unblemished in Newfoundland. Between the fresh air off of the taiga in Alaska and the clear skies of Newfoundland my lungs enjoyed a respite this year from the often smoggy air of Southwestern Ontario where I live. 

A view of Bennett's High Island off in the distance

Wesleyville is on the north eastern shores of Newfoundland and is a sweet little hamlet with about 1,500 residents in the summertime. David visits and works from time to time at the studio and a raft of other artists, writers and creative folk have darkened its doors over the years. I was quite honored to sign the little piece of illustration board that so many others had signed before me. Everyone from Farley Mowat to Rex Murphy had visited before us. We settled in quickly and set out first thing the next morning to explore Cape Freels, a beautiful area up the coast from Wesleyville.

 We really noticed the wind while in Newfoundland...throughout the day we were almost blown off of our feet periodically as we climbed hills and traversed Gros Morne and Fogo Island. When we visited Cape Freels the gales swept in off the water and made our walk a challenge. We saw little fishing boats out on the bay fishing for cod, the fishermen in yellow rain gear bouncing amid the sprays of water. They waved to us. It was the beginning of experiencing the terrific warmth of the people who call Newfoundland home. 

An abandoned lobster trap at Cape Freels

Kittiwakes searched for food ahead of us as we walked along the shores of the cape.

One of the many signs in Newfoundland that were bare...the atmosphere had long since obscured what had been written on it. This further  made me feel as though I was in another land altogether off the map.

"The Rock" in all of its splendor...gales, ocean, rolling crests of earth that seemed themselves to have been shaped by the very gusts coming in off of the water.

We came upon this little cemetery out at the end of the cape. The stones were propped up with pieces of wood to ballast them against the elements that continually push upon the land. We noticed that many of the people who had passed on died very young. Life would have been extremely difficult in times past and the mortality rate was very high. I remember seeing these stones and thinking that it was a beautiful final resting place for these people who had died so very long ago.

I loved the pattern of the blowing sand across the beach ahead of us. It was quite cold but we loved every moment of it.

The colour of the water struck me particularly on this day. It was almost purple, perhaps due to organic matter being churned up but I was not sure. Regardless, it had a beautiful weight to it, as though it was pushing against the sky with its inky hue.

I am drawn to photographing signs of places I pass through. I think that they reveal some of the nature of the place...a window into a bit of its personality perhaps. I liked the improvised "o" in this sign in Pound Cove. 

On our way back to Wesleyville from Cape Freels we stopped in Newtown, a cute little town with a gorgeous church defining its skyline. It was pretty quiet everywhere that we went in Newfoundland. People were out working and the activity of the summer months had died down substantially. Subsequently we really enjoyed the quiet, fresh air, smiles and waves of passersby and pristine views at every turn. 

Although I am a figurative artist and I usually paint people in my work, I did not want that to dictate what I would paint for this show. Thus I let myself be inspired by what I encountered, be it a beach, a berry picker by the road or the setting sun behind darkened hills that would end up on my canvases. 

A solitary little boat by the inlet on the way into Newtown. I loved the ochre colour of the fading grasses on the wane from the summer months.

You can see the beautiful church in Newtown behind this intriguing building built on this rock jutting out of the water. It seemed ready to collapse at any moment. 

A sweet little Newfoundlander puppy in Newtown. 

At the end of our first couple of days in Newfoundland Robert and I tried to absorb all of the unique character of this truly special part of Canada. I surge of patriotism for a place I was fortunate enough to call home welled up in me and I realized how lucky I was to be in a place of such simple beauty, such kindness offered whenever required, such endlessly changing skies and a quietness that helps stress melt away.  Paradoxically I was inspired and charged with an energy to get out and snap pictures of everything I saw. I took over 900 pictures in two weeks, and of those I will distill my reference down to about 15 paintings of very special places and people I met along the way. I will write more in the next "chapter" of my travels in Newfoundland soon. 

"Life is either a daring adventure or nothing."~Helen Keller

Here is some information on my solo exhibition in November 2009. If you have any questions please contact Abbozzo Gallery. You can see a selection of writings about these paintings on my other blog, here.

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