Hale's Sleeping Cat

Hale's sleeping cat 16 x 28 Oil on Canvas

The detail of a painting inspired from a beautiful book I purchased by Rachael Hale, photographer. The image was in black and white and I just needed to give the cat a little color.

Although I understand it to be debatable, I truly enjoy "appropriation". I think the creative opportunity that lies within is unlimited. I also enjoy naming the pieces with credit to original author of the work. In this case, I named the painting after the photographer.

L'écolière (the student)

L'écolière 16 x 20 - Oil on canvas - 2007

A painting inspired from a school picture of my then 9-year-old daughter Geneviève. Although this was only the second painting I did, I still find I am highly critical of this piece. The shadows were not well defined in the photograph I used which unfortunately left me to struggle with the overall composition at that level. Values are still something I find very difficult. The inspiration was greater I suppose than common sense at that particular point in time.  My daughter was going through something very difficult at the time. In the picture, there was something about the way she exhibited peace if only for that moment. That represented a certain sense of relief which at the time meant the world to me.

The Sleeping Child

The sleeping child 22 x 28 - Acrylic on canvas - 2006

When my daughter Leigha Ann was a little girl, she would fall asleep anywhere, anytime. I would find her sleeping in the middle of the living room, under a table, in her highchair. Once, I found her on the rocking chair of her bedroom. I took a photograph of the priceless moment and eventually used it to create my first painting.  I will never forget the feeling of when I traced her little features on the canvas; it took my breath away. I used Golden heavy body acrylics for this piece and applying the many layers of paint remain fresh in my memory to this day. When I have a hard time finding sleep, I visualize applying the transparency of Alizarin Crimson and that is the last thing I remember.