Something that makes you take stock and set you on a path. One of those moments happened over a decade ago when I first crested the ridge on the back half of our Mulmur property. As the hills of the Niagara Escarpment cascaded down away from me and the vast forests and river valleys of the Dufferin highlands came into focus, I had to sit on one of the large glacial boulders that abound up there an
d drink it all in. In its simplicity. In its existance. Then, in January of 2012, I had another such moment. This one came about when I was sitting still in our livingroom and realizing that, for the first time in many years, I had the time and the inspiration to once again pick up a paint brush. There had been much turmoil in the past few years with large industry coming into our area and there had been much loss in regards to historical farms and pristine natural settings. I was seeing the loss of my childhood haunts. The anhilation of secret groves where imagination reigned and quiet streams by which to dream. And I was just not ready to let it go. So I've chosen to find those little snipits of a forgotten life and try to capture them on the canvas. I may not have studied art or been taught the correct discipline, but I paint from the heart and hope that just a little of the magic that exists up here comes through. It seems that there are fewer and fewer places in this world today where you can lie on your back, in a field of wildflowers and watch the clouds chase the sun across the sky. I found one such place. On my Hidden Ridge.
