A walk in the wacky woods

Art comes in many forms. While I express my own vision in my two-dimensional depictions of animals and birds, and I have laboured over skills that have taken a chunk of my lifetime to master, I have an appreciation for creativity in all its variety and splendor. On a recent trip to Vancouver Island, I had an opportunity to experience creativity at its unrefined best. I took a walk in the Wacky Woods.

I doubt you'd find the Wacky Woods without knowing a local. They're located in the Fanny Bay area and are a favourite haunt of my sister and her family who live nearby. We parked on a dead-end road, and set off down a well groomed trail through marsh and into woodlands until, amidst the trees, we saw a sign indicating a left turn. I didn't know quite what to expect but all was soon revealed.

We encountered a tree that had a wooden "book" tucked into a crevasse. It turned out to be the first of many such "books", each of which opened to a single page with a quotation. The theme of these quotations soon revealed the left-leaning tendencies of the person who selected them. But these were just one aspect of what turned out to be an entire forest-turned-art-gallery.

Moving from one "room" to anther, we encountered installations too numerous to count, many of them featuring faucets or electrical switches, or machinery, or simply bits of this and that combined imaginatively and inviting the viewer's interpretation. Many had a environmental/resource-based theme. Some were political. Some were simply downright funny.

 

 

 

 

 

We sauntered, and read, and observed, and laughed, and eventually came to a clearing where the person responsible for all this wackiness had once lived. Note the silhouette of the fish among the tree branches.

 

George Sawchuk began creating this living work of art on his property, commencing in the mid 1970s. It evolved over the balance of his life until he passed away a few years ago. During his life, he welcomed visitors to his property and regaled them with stories. Without him, his legacy of art lives on, maintained now by his family.

Surrounding the house were more installations.

Some continued the wacky theme...

...while others bore more practical messages.
 


"Please Do Not Sit On Bike"

Back in the woods we came across a cemetery for pets ...

... and apparently for beloved articles of clothing.

There were more fascinating installations. In fact, I doubt that we saw them all even in the considerable time we spent wandering the maze of trails, musing, discussing, and chuckling. It was a wonderful experience.

This artist took materials he had at hand and simply placed them into the space he had available. The forest had not only provided the setting for the art, it was actively engaged in the art-making process, such as this charming caterpillar adorning a hose nozzle sprouting from a tree trunk whose bark, over time had embraced the nozzle's base.

And with the passage of seasons and years, George's installations have altered with the growth and decay that are the continual evolution of the forest, as is the case with all living things.

 

"Build it and they will come", and so he did, and so they still do. We weren't the only people wandering in the Wacky Woods that morning and I'm sure there are always a handful meandering there, puzzling over George's messages and vision, appreciating his efforts, and laughing at the oddness of it all.

 

 

To read more about George Sawchuk simply Google his name and you'll find out he was not some back-woods eccentric. He tapped into his creativity late in life but was written up in Canadian Art magazine and accumulated a significant exhibition history. However, without knowing anything about him, which I didn't when I visited the Wacky Woods, I found his work to be interesting and inspiring - a true testament to the creative spirit that lives within us all. If you have a chance to take your own walk in the Wacky Woods, I'm sure you won't regret it.

 

Also worth noting, a trip to the Wacky Woods is a pet and child friendly outing which was much enjoyed by my puppy Lily and her human "cousins".

 

Thank you George, for your creative legacy. I wish I'd had the opportunity to meet you.

NOTE: Sadly, the Wacky Woods no longer exist. The property was sold and now George's vision lives on only in memory and by those who documented it through words and photos.

What to do when you're in a slump

For the past few days - well... maybe even weeks - I've been in a kind of a slump. I've been going about my business more-or-less as usual but it's been a bit of a struggle. I head down to my studio each morning, coffee and hand, and settle down for the day. However, somehow the creative juices just aren't flowing.

Wren Fledgling in coloured pencil.

I have not been totally unproductive. I have a couple of commission pieces underway and they're coming along nicely (one of them is a bit out of the ordinary for me and I'll reveal it in a future blog). I also finished off this sweet drawing of a little wren while at an art event recently. It's just that the flow of new ideas, which usually comes easily to me, seems to be clogged.

I've come to the conclusion that I'm in a proverbial "slump" or I have "artists block" or some other euphemistic description for just being a bit out-of-sorts. I've never been one to expect that everything needs to be just-so in order to make art. I have a lot of discipline. I go to the studio. I work. I am diligent, focused and productive. But lately, for some unknown reason, I'm off my game.

I know its necessary at times to simply draw back, walk away, and nurture oneself. However, I'm fighting back. Right now walking away is not what I'd like to be doing - or can afford to be doing - with exhibitions, festivals and other events pending.

So far I have distracted myself from my slump by doing such things as:

• fiddling around on my computer WAY more than usual
• sitting in the sunshine (when available), drinking tea
• sitting looking out the window (at the rain), drinking tea
• cleaning out closets
• taking myself and/or my old dog for walks at odd times of day
• lying on the floor with the old dog and/or the cats (should I mention we've had some long conversations or would that bring my overall mental health into question?)
• getting together with friends for lunch, or a walk, or coffee (having legitimate human conversations)
• pottering in the garden
• reading books (dog lovers who enjoy a good cry should read "The Art of Racing in the Rain")
• watching nonsense on TV
• thinking about art-making and new projects, but not acting on the thoughts
• the list goes on...

High in an evergreen, a watchful barred owl.

On my walks I have acquired some wonderful new reference material such as this barred owl I spotted recently which, at other times, would inspire me to get busy on a new drawing or painting. These days I scarcely take time to peruse what I've gathered.

I have read inspirational books that would, at other times, fill me with ideas and energy but now simply put me to sleep. I've commiserated with artist colleagues who would, at other times, make my creative juices gush but now manage to produce only a meagre drop or two. I feel like I'm marooned in a creative desert in search of an oasis.

So now I've figured out there's one thing I can do that will fit into my slumpy state and benefit me in the long run: I'm tidying up my studio. I'm finding it to be quite a therapeutic exercise and a nice break from working on the commissioned pieces, taking care of the day-to-day activities of running my art business, and simply stewing about being in a slump. And judging by the number of boxes of junk I've hauled out so far, it's a task that is well overdue. I have my fingers crossed that getting my studio neat and organized (although not TOO organized; that could be counter-productive) will improve my frame of mind and set the stage for unleashing the floodgates of a veritable deluge of creativity!

And just in case those clogged floodgates take a little while to clear, cleaning the studio will have the benefit of presenting a tidy workspace for the participants joining me for coloured pencil workshops this weekend. Perhaps it's the energy of a creative group of students - eager to learn and appreciative of my insights - that will give me the kick-start I need to climb out of this creative slump and get on with things. 

Or maybe I'll just look out the window some more and drink another cup of tea, resigned to my fate, taking heart in the words of some wise person who once said, "This too shall pass". I wonder if he/she was an artist too.