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I failed grade seven art. That was probably
because of inattention and bad behaviour.
The failure certainly didn't reflect my regard
and appreciation for the natural landscapes
around me..
At that time - the early fifties -- I lived in the Dunbar
area of Vancouver in a house with an excellent
view of the North Shore mountains. I remember
seeing great white clouds massing over Hollyburn,
sunset light on the slopes of Grouse Mountain,
and, in winter, an entire range of brilliant,
snow-laden trees etched sharply against a
cold blue sky.
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From my earliest days I felt a keen admiration
for certain Canadian paintings. I remember the Tom Thomson print hanging
in my grandparents' dining room, school hallways
displaying wartime reproductions of Group
of Seven paintings, and field-trips to the
Vancouver Art Gallery. These visits
were
special: it was fascinating to see
original
paintings - so full of colour and textures.
Creating my own art began with photography.
I recall a time -- I was very young
- that
I set myself a task of making a series
of
eight of the best compositions I could
manage.
I took this personal challenge seriously
and spent much care and time searching
for
subjects, balance, light, and colour
for
each exposure. Only when thoroughly
satisfied
did I press the shutter. The camera
was a
box Brownie. Without film! I must have
visualized
those images very strongly because
I can
still see some of them in my mind's eye.
My interest in photography grew and remains
(though now, once again, without film!).
But interest in painting has long since
surpassed
my photographic pursuits.
My mother started it. She had enjoyed painting
with oils for many years, but one day
decided
to switch to watercolours. She packed
up
her paints, brushes, canvasses, and
bottles
of oil in a large black suitcase -
and gave
them all to me. I was fourteen years
old
at the time and very pleased. With
a wealth
of subjects and ideas in mind, and
suddenly,
all the materials, I got right to work.
The stark white canvas was intimidating,
tube colours didn't match the colours
I needed.
Results were awful. I had failed again,
but
didn't give up. I began mixing and
matching
colours, observing light, colour, and
shade
more closely. I carefully studied works
of
other painters. I read about painting
and
pigments and asked questions whenever
I had
the chance. I kept painting, focussing
still
on compositions from natural landscapes,
often receiving helpful suggestions
and useful
criticisms.
These activities, begun in the 50's, have
continued right up to the present day.
Somewhere
along the way, I started to produce
a few
paintings that I rather liked.
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