It was the year 2002. I was walking through the Royal York Hotel in Toronto when I noticed in the art gallery there a collection of paintings by the Quebec artist, Bruno Cote. I was mesmerized, but there was no hope of purchasing one of his works, so I settled on buying the book. I had recently inherited a paint box from Hugh Cronyn, artist and cousin, so I had been thinking of dabbling in oil paints, although art had never been a part of my life. But looking through Bruno's book, and staring at Hugh's paintbox, I thought, I can do this. I had two good mentors. It's just a matter of giving it a whirl. It has been over a decade and the whirl continues. It turns out that "oil painting" is a small expression for a wide variety of styles and it takes years to blunder your way through them. I'm still working on it, but it has been, and always will be, an eye-opening experience. It's all about learning to see.
It was the year 2002. I was walking through the Royal York Hotel in Toronto when I noticed in the art gallery there a collection of paintings by the Quebec artist, Bruno Cote. I was mesmerized, but there was no hope of purchasing one of his works, so I settled on buying the book. I had recently inherited a paint box from Hugh Cronyn, artist and cousin, so I had been thinking of dabbling in oil paints, although art had never been a part of my life. But looking through Bruno's book, and staring at Hugh's paintbox, I thought, I can do this. I had two good mentors. It's just a matter of giving it a whirl. It has been over a decade and the whirl continues. It turns out that "oil painting" is a small expression for a wide variety of styles and it takes years to blunder your way through them. I'm still working on it, but it has been, and always will be, an eye-opening experience. It's all about learning to see.