the night is young, and so are we

This is a story about two boys in the woods at night.

Recently, while visiting back home, myself and a great group of friends attended a housewarming party in the Pond Mills area of London. After several hours of good times and a multitude of alcoholic beverages, it was time to make the trek home. Seeing as Pond Mills is an area that I would almost qualify as desolate (in terms of London's outline), we decided against taking a cab until we'd arrived at a major road on foot. I had a pretty good idea where we were about 20 minutes into the journey, and I knew that we were nowhere near cab territory. I'm talkin' country-road-no-streetlights-in-sight kind of nowhere. Two friends decided they would call a cab and wait. I had other plans.

I convinced my friend Bryan that we were going to make a fucking pilgrimage, like men, like our grandfathers fathers would. There we were, two boys, walking through the woods, approaching the morning light. I had convinced Bryan to make this journey based on the fact that it would be a funny memory and that it's what two Canadian guys should be doing in winter.

This is something I do on a very regular basis. You see, my theory is twofold.
1. There is absolutely no reason not to make memories, or at least attempt to. I would say more that 50 per cent of any of my actions provides me with some satisfaction, whether it's crossing the street on a diagonal or taking the longest way home. Adventure drives me, as does the quest to make a good story. The need to be entertained, or entertain, is at the core of any of my actions and decisions.
2. If you're going to get shit-faced you might as well use it to your advantage. I can't tell you how many friends I've used this line on, only because it makes absolute sense to me. What's the point? Getting drunk is not very easy to do. Yet once you finally achieve inebriation, you just throw that money away (in a sense) by hitting the sheets? (unless you're about to have sex, which is totally different). All of my closest friends have experienced this with me in one way or another. Three that come to mind are scaling buildings (do it safely please), swindling hospital security guards into allowing us to use a shortcut through the lobby, and hijacking a boat in Toronto harbor in order to use the bathroom. Those last two happened on the same night by the way. I could literally write a memoir on every intoxicated (mis)adventure I've had over the years. Call that what you want, but remember I'm the one with the tales.

So back to the woods.
I cannot put into words the feelings I get when on Canadian safari. During this night, we jumped creeks, hopped rusty fences, battled chest-high grasses, evaded headlights, and ascended underpasses - all in an effort just to get home. We laughed, struggled, and helped one another make the journey home, which was a staggering 7 kilometers. In fact, the photo seen at the top of the page behind the header is one of the fields we crossed.

I guess what I'm trying to say is that life is often too easy. It's easy to hop in a cab and be escorted home, and I'm not saying I don't take advantage of that sometimes. I suppose what I'm getting at is that sometimes you have to sacrifice your own personal comforts in an attempt to have some fun and make memories for yourself. It's also to important to remind ourselves that not only is life easy, it's fucking short. The night is young, and so are we. Let's hop some fences already.

*top photo. Bryan and I, Vancouver, 2007

find me outside

Finally, an updated Flickr account. I used to be so heavy into that.

Last weekend I spent some more time in London "researching" my term project. I'll say researching because I showed up to the schools, which were locked. I have no idea why I didn't put this together in my mind days before leaving. However, on a more positive note, the principle of HB Beal has just granted me access to the school at my disposal. Fantastic.

Another reason for being in London was to purchase what would ultimately lead me to applying for welfare. That's right: the coveted Sigma 10-20 wide-angle lens. I purchased it mostly for my term project, which solely revolves around the photographing of interiors. That, and it has a 10 year warranty - which is great because I'm pretty hard on my lenses for the most part ie. my Nikon stock lens vs. Rivoli pool hall floor circa 2007.


So, it's safe to say I've been using this lens extensively, which is at least ten times a day. On top of that, I picked up a portable flash from my moms house over the Christmas holidays, which allows for much more dynamic lighting scenarios as opposed to that flat-in-yo-face-flash. That's also been a ton of fun to practice.

Oh, and Bike and I got to play in the snow most of the day Saturday. Great packing snow.

startin fires tour

Show tonight in Kingston.
Yeah.

that makes a bakers dozen

Cracked lung strikes again!

For those of you who have been reading this blog for more than a year, this may sound familiar to you.

That's right. Pneumonia again!
This time it hit me like a shit-ton of bricks. No warning, no sloppy nose work, no headaches.

Just BAM! Right into the lungs it goes, without leaving behind the sweatiest chills and worst obstructed sleeps I've ever and.

However, I'm quick on the antibiotics and should be back to my psychotically busy life in no time.

spoke too soon

So, I clearly forgot to knock on wood.

Not an hour ago, I was diagnosed with pneumonia.

I checked into the walk-in clinic earlier this morning to see if I was just paranoid about this chest stuff. Dr. Kara told me to lift my shirt so he could listen to me breathing from my back, through the stethoscope. He asked me to breath deeply while he checked all the parts of my back. He asked me to repeat this breathing while his scope was placed on this one particular section of my back.

"Andrew, you have a crackle in your right lung." Great.

He said it was a good thing I came in when I did, or else the illness could have worsened badly within the next couple days.
Either way, I'm now on antibiotics for the next week. I even got a puffer! I was always envious of those asthmatics and their cool puffers.

my buzz is alive

So! Here it goes again. Just a few jots on things, nothing elaborate. 

. Bike and I were out for dinner the other night with my 

mom and aunt. They were in town to see the Sound of Music play at the Princess of Whales theatre. The funny thing was, there was a mix-up in their ticket arrangements and were on their way to seeing it for the second time. At this point, they offered us the tickets and we readily accepted. 

The interesting thing about the story is that we were both half in the bag from dinner. This was mostly due to the Milestones gigantic pints and from not eating nearly all day. So before we went to the show we came back to our place and drank a couple more and made our way. During intermission, we grabbed a couple more beers, to which we found out that your can actually take them into the theatre and enjoy it during the show. During the second half of the show, I found it so hilarious just sitting next to this nice old couple, enjoying a beer as if it were a football game. I then jokingly turned to Bike during Edelweiss and mouthed "FUCK YEAAAH!!!" and shook my beer as if a touchdown had just happened. You kinda had to be there. 

. I sold a painting yesterday to a gentleman named Don and his wife Susan. They were incredibly nice and I am happy to see the piece go to them. Again, super thanks goes to Mickey for being such a huge help in the process. Also, if you're in town you should go see John Chau's work at Vdara for the month of February. The opening last night was awesome and his work is literally in another realm, and it was good to see Eugene. 

The image below was taken from the National Post a couple weeks ago when they reviewed Vdara. That's one of my paintings on the wall, behind Mani. They mentioned "paintings of the tundra" in the article, which was rad. 

. Before the final sale of yesterdays piece, I experienced a pretty wonderful bout of anxiety while walking the streets. To be honest, those situations make me quite frantic and nervous. Some buyers can be so scatter-headed that any specific comments or details can sway a decision greatly in any direction. I nearly vomited on Spadina Ave. and could feel my body wanting to pass out at any moment. This was either caused by too much anxiety, walking for almost 4 hours, too much sun (it's been beautiful here), or too little food. Probably all of that together. 

. Today I'm going to paint, make a Guinness beef stew, and listen to The Wooden Sky. Life is good. 

. There's a new Talkin' Schmidt coming out soon about the Crazy Horse National Monument.

. The days are getting longer. Isn't that great? Yeah, it's great. 

. I'm considering doing podcasts instead of lengthy, wordy posts. I know personally that I'd rather listen to somebody's rants than read them. Plus, I like to crack jokes a lot and it comes across easier when in vocal form. For instance, Jenna's sweet blog www.lovelyandlazy.blogspot.com currently has a clip up of us talking about the Mint. I think it's funny shit. 

. I'll think of something cool to say later.  

LG

This video honestly kills me.

The other day Bike and I were down in the studio working on some stuff. He was editing some video on my Mac and I was working on a new piece.
He'd noticed I'd been jiving to some Hey Darcy! pretty hard in the basement and decided to shoot a video to see if he could catch my dancing on film. Surely enough, about ten seconds after pressing record, some goofy dance emerges and is forever captured on film.
Maybe it was the joy of being reunited with my favorite sweater, or maybe it was my fancy drumming on that album. Either way, it's funny as hell.

similarryties

Today I realized that the apples truly don't fall far from the trees. 

My dad and I make this pilgrimage to Oakville every few months to pick up oversized canvas from the gigantic DeSerres outlet store. I'm pretty sure the prices are the same as the one here downtown, but it's kind of fun to make the journey and we get a chance to catch up. 

So today we made that same trip. It went pretty much exactly the same as it usually does: we drove through shit weather, talked about bad drivers/the economy/work/family/the weather/sports (I pretend and nod a lot at that), we drank tim hortons, got off at the wrong exits and laughed at each others stank farts. It was business as usual. 

Once we got back to my studio, we cracked down on some manly shit. To be more specific, we drilled holes in the walls and used ladders. At around this point, I quickly became aware of how similar my dad and I really are. Once my dad uttered "Hey And, you got anything I can piss into?", I laughed and handed him my usual piss bucket and left him to do his business. 

The funny thing about that instance is that every time I've ever mentioned to someone that I have a piss bucket, they cringe and make a stupid face. My dad? We both understand that taking a piss is simply taking a piss, and there's nothing around it. Who cares that there's a jug of warm piss in the room? I just dump it into the drain outside my door. Be a man and get dirty for once you over-sanitized, kleenex-havin' baby! 

The next similarity came when he noticed my wagon wheel. Yes, I have a single authentic wagon wheel downstairs which I swiped from a leather ranch that had gone out of business. It was a hasslehoff to carry home, but I knew I'd use it for something eventually. He replied,

" Aw, sweet wagon wheel! You could turn that into a coffee table!", and that was my exact intention on having it. Because, the fact is, my dad would have grabbed that wheel off the street even faster than I did. We just both have an eye for useful junk. 

We continued to drill more holes (which will be used for hanging wet canvas instead of leaning them against the wall), crack jokes, and jam out to The Temptations. I explained the motion sensor problems I have and he told me of a friend who could remedy that problem. Excuse me? Where has this person been for the past three years while I've been doing stupid fucking jumping jacks all afternoon to keep the lights on? Needless to say, this person is coming over one day to hook me up, figuratively speaking. 

And to top off this story, he gave me a brand new step ladder! I am officially a man now, because I have my own ladder. All I need now is a truck, some more plaid, a baby, and over $50 in Canadian Tire money and I'm in the club. 

monday morning

I had another great day in the studio today. Early start, cup of coffee, full generator and some of my favorite albums to listen to. After I emptied out the piss bucket (this space is underground, don't ask) and cleaned some dry brushes, I got to painting. The most difficult thing I think in landscape painting is revisiting a piece after around a week. Sometimes I need to paint wet-to-dry, so I need to allow the paintings the time to dry out a bit. Colors never seem to match and it's a massive struggle sometimes to get back into that palette and understanding what was where and how they've melded together in the past.

It's cold down there this winter. I can see my breath while I work and it drives me to distraction because I'm constantly warming my hands and blowing my nose. I'm starting to work my way into a more safe way of approaching chemicals and oil paints. It's not uncommon for me to wear plastic gloves and a cotton face mask, and I'll usually leave the door open to make up for my five inch "vent" that couldn't even ventilate a fart. Which leads me to my next point,

For those of you that don't know, I'm half way finished filming a mini-documentary about a trip I took through western North America early this past summer. One part of the trip documented all my painting research and sketches (as well as the trip itself), and the second will include the production of all the artwork, under certain circumstances.
Those being that I am willingly encasing myself in a concrete space for five days with no leaving and no sense of time, with the goal in mind of starting and completing at least six large-scale landscape works. I don't plan on leaving the room for this period which means:

no power (because it's technically a storage space)
no sunlight (also meaning no sense of what time of day it really is)
no watches (because I think that's funny)
no mirrors (because I'd like to see the shit-hole look and surprise when I come out
no running water (again, it's not made for living)
and no light switch (there's no switch; it's a motion-sensor, which means I cant stop moving)

Needless to say, I feel as though I'm getting very close to undertaking this adventure, and it kinda scares me (those who know me well know that I've been talking about this challenge for years now), but it's also really, really exciting.