When I was a boy, the year was divided into just three parts. In descending order of importance, they were Christmas, the hunting season, and the fishing season.
My earliest memories of Christmas consist of pure wonder and magic. I remember sitting in a darkened room with my eyes squinted to blur the soft glow of Christmas tree lights. The sparkle of twisting ornaments and strands of tinsel added an even more mystical dimension to the real-life fantasy before me.
My enchantment with Christmas may have diminished somewhat with the inevitable distractions of adolescence and early adulthood, but a deep wave of nostalgia swept over me with parenthood. The magic of Christmas was renewed through the eyes of my children.
I’ve always believed that an artist should paint what he knows and loves, and along with images from a rural existence and a sporting life, the Christmas season is a subject that I care about deeply.
So, it seems only natural to me that I combine all that’s important to me in the images I create. The paintings I’ve included in this selection recall favorite images and memories from Christmas seasons past.
The Christmas Tree
I grew up in rural America, and my wife Lisa and I have raised our family in the same lifestyle. One of our many Christmas traditions is collecting the family Christmas tree. Often, the perfect tree is located and marked earlier in the fall, while hunting, and collected later. Sometimes the day includes visiting neighbors. The perfect Christmas tree, good friends, and cookies with hot cider create memories that live forever.
Closing Day
It’s a tradition in my family to spend part of every Thanksgiving and Christmas Day afield, hunting the uplands. A brace of rooster pheasants or bobwhite quail are as pretty as any Christmas ornament I’ve ever seen.
Alone
Christmas is a busy time of year when we’re often surrounded by family and friends for days on end. Even though we love them, too much company can wear on a guy, and it’s easy for me to lose touch of my inner voice. Luckily, there are several trout streams nearby, where I can be alone and find the solitude I need to reconnect with my soul.
The Night the Animals Speak
Legend tells us that because the animals gave Mary and Joseph room in their manger on Christmas Eve, they were rewarded with the gift of speech. It’s a tradition for many farmers to honor this act of kindness by placing a wreath on their barn door. This painting was done to honor this tradition
Christmas Day
Is there anything more exciting than waking up on Christmas morning, and dashing to the tree to see what Santa Claus has brought?
I try to imagine my perfect Christmas morning in this painting!
Closed for the Season
On quiet and still Christmas mornings, the children of summers past can be heard running past the old village ice cream shop in our small Minnesota town.
Evening Refuge
There’s an expansive marsh just down stream from the little village where we live, and scattered throughout it are numerous spring holes that stay open all winter.
On those winter evenings when I carried our daughter Tommy, and walked her to sleep, I often lingered to hear the soft and plaintive calls of geese as they worked their way down the valley, to the safety of their evening refuge. As they flew over us, I’d watch them against the lowering sky for as long as I could, reluctant to turn away even after they were out of sight, such is the primal magic in their calling. One night when their song finally faded into the gloaming, I walked to the shed for an armload of firewood, and heard my muse say, “It’s gotten cold, the season has changed.”
Home for Christmas
No matter how long or difficult the journey, it’s always a wonderful feeling to be home for Christmas.
A Fisherman’s Sampler
Created for our children’s nursery, “A Fisherman’s Sampler” was just too much fun not to share!
The Fly Wreath
If a fly fisherman was to decorate a Christmas wreath… I’ve no doubt it would look something like this!
The Johnston Cabin
I was asked by a friend to replicate an old print that hung in her husband’s childhood home. The print was of a painting by Frank Johnston, an original member of the Canadian “Group of Seven”. I took the scene and tried to make it my own, and by way of homage, titled the painting, “The Johnston Cabin”.
Patience
Sometimes, in the depth of winter, when the day is bright and clear and cold, I wander off to the marsh where, months before, I sat watching the sky for ducks and geese. It’s fun to walk across the bays and channels that I’ve hunted. It gives me a different perspective of my marsh, and I often find interesting treasures… like an errant decoy waiting patiently to be found and put back into service.
Rural Delivery
I remember a simpler time, before UPS and FedEx, when Christmas gifts were sent by post, sometimes weeks in advance. Friends and nearby relatives also took advantage of oversized rural delivery boxes and filled them with presents of all sorts.
Winter Moon Rising
High on the bluff, on the hill leading out of town, is a favorite hiking trail of mine. I like to wander along it on winter evenings, especially if there’s a full moon rising over the valley where we live.
Twas the Night Before Christmas
Every parent knows that the night before Christmas can be a hectic time. There are decorations to hang, lists to review, last minute presents to buy, and then all the wrapping; with the paper, ribbons and bows.
Are the kids asleep yet?
Don’t forget the cookies in the oven!
