A little piece of paradise

In waters of the Straight of Georgia between Vancouver Island and the mainland of southwestern British Columbia are a cluster of islands known as the Southern Gulf Islands. They're quiet, rural places where neighbours are often of the four-legged variety.
  

 

These serene islands are havens for creative types of all kinds - artists, writers, musicians - as well as for those who simply wish to get away from the hustle and bustle of more urban lifestyles. Handfuls of resourceful full-timers live year-round, taking on the many challenges of island life, while others maintain second homes on these idyllic jewels in the sea, places they can go to leave their busy every-day lives behind without permanently having an ocean and a ferry ride between them and their families and jobs and other significant ties, not to mention the services and conveniences of mainland life.

Tucked away in a corner of one of these islands, at the end of a hidden driveway that winds among leafy arbutus and towering evergreens is a dilapidated little yellow cottage.

 

It's not much of a place, a real fixer-upper - what's known euphemistically as a "handyman special". But as of just a couple of weeks ago, this ramshackle cottage became my own little Gulf Island retreat - dodgy well water, funky septic system, and all, with a rickety set of front steps, a roof that's best not looked at too closely, and a few other deficiencies that will need to be seen to in the coming months. This rustic abode might not be everyone's idea of paradise, but that's what it is to me. It's my own piece of a part of the world that has always attracted me like a moth to a flame: a little Gulf Island retreat to call my own. For the past decade or so my husband and I had dreamed of this, and now it's finally come to fruition.

While the cottage itself isn't much, it's on a well-treed half acre that backs onto a large tract of undeveloped forest.

Best of all, it's only a stone's throw from this:

An easy stroll with a cup of coffee, I've already picked out the rock where I'll sit, and sip, enjoy the morning sunshine, and gaze at the ocean while Lily (who is now, by the way, a rambunctious six-month-old pup and no longer a baby) plays on the beach. I think I might need a kayak.

And what I'm most excited about is the art I'll make based on my new part-time life as a Gulf Islander. A chunk of the island is devoted to the Gulf Islands National Marine Park, and another part of its coastline faces Active Pass which is considered to be migratory bird habitat of international significance. There are seal colonies, forested hillsides, shorebird nesting areas, and whenever I've been there I've heard a myriad of songbirds twittering, ravens muttering in the treetops, and watched pileated woodpeckers flapping and tapping amongst the evergreens. There are a few cozy farms where cattle, horses and sheep graze comfortably, and who knows what else? I can't wait to discover it all.

But for now our visits to our new "estate" involve winterizing activities so the sound of hammers drowns out the peeping of the nuthatches, and the baaa-ing of the sheep over the fence is hard to hear above the shrill whine of the circular saw, and there's only time for a quick dash down to the beach to reassure ourselves it's there and it's why we're doing what we're doing.

And I've yet to enjoy sipping that morning coffee on the beach, but it will come. It is said the best things are worth waiting for.

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.

This and that

Finally... I have some time to myself. I'm betwixt and between what just a few days ago seemed like an unending list of exhibition deadlines and summer art festival dates. Now, with a deadline-and-appointment-less day at my disposal, I thought I'd take a few minutes to write a brief re-cap.

The avalanche of activity got rolling when I hosted an Artist's Open House at my studio last month. It turned out to be a quiet-ish day, but I nonetheless welcomed a steady trickle of visitors to view a selection of artwork and enjoy refreshments on the lawn. Shockingly (to me, anyway) my coloured pencil drawing Wild Muscovy was among the artworks that found new homes that day. I was convinced he'd be with me forever - after all, this bird's face is one that takes some getting used to - but a visitor to my studio fell head over heels in love with him and soon he will be gracing the walls of her new home. (I wrote about this drawing in a previous blog post, Tale of an ugly duck.)

"Wild Muscovy" coloured pencil drawing

A few days later I attended the opening of Oil and Water, an exhibition of artwork from around the province, hosted by the South Delta Artist's Guild at their Gallery 1710 in Tsawwassen. I knew my silk painting, The Transients: Snow Geese, had received an award but I was honoured to learn it placed in the top three, earning the Envision Financial Master Artist's Award. Wow!

"The Transients: Snow Geese" silk painting

Bright and early the next morning I was at West Vancouver's Ambleside Park setting up my booth at the Harmony Arts Festival's Art Market. It was a lovely event that spanned two weekends in a gorgeous waterfront setting.

My tent and art display at the Harmony Arts Festival

The summer weather was almost too cooperative, at times reaching temperatures that challenged even heat lovers like myself, but it didn't deter festival-goers. Among the artworks that found new homes during the festival was one of my new silk paintings, Lone Plover, based on a sighting of a semi-palmated plover on Wikaninnish Beach near Tofino.

"Lone Plover" silk painting

During the festival I demonstrated my coloured pencil skills by working on a piece which I call The Nest Builders: Cedar Waxwings. It depicts a pair of birds I observed at the Reifel Bird Sanctuary last spring as they harvested bullrush fluff to use as nesting material.

The Nest Builders: Cedar Waxwings

At this time of year, time is at a premium and no sooner is one event over than another looms perilously close! My next objective was meeting the deadline for an exhibition called Cascadia: A Juried Exhibition of West Coast Flora and Fauna  (August 23-November 16, 2014) at the Surrey Art Gallery. This exhibition runs in conjunction with a travelling exhibition organized by the National Gallery of Canada entitled Flora and Fauna: 400 Years of Artists Inspired by Nature (September 20-December 14, 2014). The theme is right up my proverbial alley, and I'm pleased my new silk painting Where the Forest Meets the Shore: Northwestern Crows was selected by the jury.

"Where the Forest Meets the Shore: Northwestern Crows" silk painting

And then there was one last summer festival - a particular favourite of mine. It's the annual Arts Alive event in my home town of Langley. I've been a fixture at this event for years and my booth was, as usual, well attended with new visitors and familiar faces. On display at the festival were the Adirondack chairs that were painted by local artists and auctioned in support of Critter Care Wildlife Society. The auction has now closed and I'm pleased to report that my chair earned more than $2,000. That will feed a lot of mouths at the wildlife shelter and I'm grateful to the purchaser for their generosity. (Read about my chair in my previous post, A meadow of wild flowers.)

During all of this activity - the creation and preparation of artwork, the manufacture of art cards and other sundries, the packing, the transporting, the setting up and taking down of festival displays, the list goes on - I've been managing lively young kitten Hugo and even more active young puppy Lily. When not being completely distracting in their cute antics, they have needs to be met in terms of their care, as do the adult felines in the household (thankfully they are much more self-sufficient).

Lily and Hugo





Archie and little "brother" Hugo

Hugo and much older "brother" Rupert



At times it feels like living in the middle of a Bugs Bunny cartoon only with two versions of the Tasmanian Devil to contend with.

But for the moment and for the next couple of weeks... all's relatively peaceful. I can enjoy the balance of the summer at a reasonable pace and make the most of the fun to be had with a pair of baby animals around the house. I'll be trekking in the park, tidying up my garden, catching up with friends and, of course, working on a few more pieces of art in time for the events that will roll around next month, as well as preparing for the workshops I'll be teaching over the fall.

There may be no rest for a weary artist but there's a lot of satisfaction in the work and the life, and I wouldn't trade it for all the summer holidays I'm unable to take. Luckily, like the birds I so enjoy depicting in my work, I hope to be making a southerly migration in the winter months to come for some well earned rest, relaxation and re-invigorating sunshine.

But that's too far ahead to do much more than dream about. For now, I'll be enjoying these last days of summer and preparing for the next onslaught of activity that will arrive with the turning of the calendar page.

Note: You can keep abreast of my many art activities on an ongoing basis by visiting the News page of my website, signing up to receive my monthly e-newsletter, or connecting with me on Facebook.

A meadow of wildflowers

Once again I find myself performing a labour of artistic love: an interesting project for a worthy cause. What could be more satisfying? I'm talking about the Adirondack (or Muskoka if you like) chair that I'm painting as another fundraiser for Critter Care Wildlife Society.

Last year, you might remember, I completed a similar project only the theme I chose was Springtime in the Forest (read about it in A forest grows...in a chair?). The images were based on my rambles in Campbell Valley Park which is, coincidentally, where Critter Care's Wildlife Rehabilitation Centre is located. My inspiration for this year's chair was once again the park I love so well, but progressing into a new season: a summer meadow of wildflowers.

There are buttercups and daisies....

Lupines and tiger lilies...

 

And an abundance of ripe, golden salmonberries....

 

Bees buzz lazily among the blooms...

 

And a hummingbird flies by in search of nectar.

 

Voila! A chair from which a meadow of flowers springs.

 

Hopefully it will prove to be a good fundraiser for Critter Care who relies on sources like this to assist in the Society's necessary work of rehabilitating orphaned and/or injured wild mammals. A number of artists have painted chairs this year and all are being auctioned over the summer. You can see them at this online auction site: http://www.32auctions.com/crittersinthegarden (bidding starts July 12 at 11am). There's also a Critters in the Garden Facebook page.

The chairs will be making their in-person public debut at Critter Care's annual open house weekend, July 12-13, 2014. Full details about the event are available on the Society's website: http://www.crittercarewildlife.org. The chairs will also be on display at Arts Alive on August 16. The auction will close on August 17 and chairs will go to the highest bidders.

And what will be the theme of next year's chair? Visit my blog again in mid-July of 2015 to find out!

The Great Distraction

It's been challenging to focus on getting any work done in the studio these days. Why? Because of this:

Meet Lily - a two-month-old Cocker Spaniel puppy, and the newest addition to our household. Like our other newbie Hugo, she too loves shoes.

After being dog-less for nearly four months since my dear old Riley passed away, when I heard there were puppies available from a breeder I knew to have a good reputation - the place our friend Roxy originated (see Portrait of a Best Friend) - I knew it was time. As much as I loved my sweet, beautiful collie, her life-long struggle with food allergies and colitis, then in later life a degenerative spinal disease, and the task of managing an aging large-breed dog in a home with a lot of stairs led me to the choice of a small-ish dog, of a breed well-known to me, from a source where healthy, good natured pups are the priority. I am committed to re-homing dogs from shelters and rescue groups - Riley was one such dog - and support their work 100%, but I made this choice because I wanted the experience of the tight, long-term bond I would form with a puppy. Finding a puppy that fit my desired profile through the rescue network could take a very, very long time and without a dog in my life I was truly not myself. I needed to feel whole again.

Lily is, however, quite a distraction, especially when combined with the presence of another youngster in the house. Kitten Hugo is now three months old. Lily and Hugo have really hit things off after a bit of a rough start. Within one minute of her arrival here, Hugo had whacked Lily across the nose with enough vigour to make her cry. I guess he wanted to show just who's boss right from the get-go! But a week later they're now playmates and best buddies. Their rough and tumble play-times and games of Chase Me are highly amusing, to say the least, not to mention totally distracting! My efforts to photograph them while in mid-wrestle have failed so far - all I get is a fuzzy blur of black and orange - but I do have a couple of pictures that can give a sense of what's happening:

 

 

And when they sleep together, they are the epitome of inter-species cuteness.

Outside the house, the inter-species love fest continues. I have learned about the effect puppies have on humans. I have never had so many people stop to chat as when I play with Lily on the lawn! It seems everyone loves a puppy and wants to have a moment with a cute little wriggly girl who greets each visitor with a wagging tail and showers of puppy kisses.

Lily's first walk in the park was just a day or two ago. Given she's small, she spent a good part of the walk in my back-pack so as not to tire her too much. It was a nice, refreshing walk in the forest, riddled with missed photo opportunities - a yellow warbler that posed beautifully on a branch just a few yards away, baby cotton-tail bunnies munching on new grass beside the trail - because wrangling a squirming puppy and a camera at the same time proved to be just too much to manage. However, there will be many, many walks to come, and Lily will be my partner. She will learn, as Riley did, to wait quietly while I gather the reference photos that are the seeds from which artworks blossom back in my studio.

There is absolutely no doubt that Lily herself will provide artistic inspiration. She's not the first Cocker to have done so. Besides our friend Roxy there was Lady, a sweet girl who was my mom's dog some years ago...

... and more recently I completed this portrait of a darling boy named Ben who loves his ball.

So welcome Lily. You are depriving me of sleep and distracting me from my work, but you're also bringing great joy and a sense of contentment. You have some big shoes to fill but I expect you will grow into them and make them your own.

I think my old cat Rupert is particularly glad you're here, giving him a well deserved break by providing Hugo with a more energetic and much less crotchety playmate.