seasons exhibition in invermere

This blog has devolved into something of a vacation roadshow this summer but bear with me, autumn and its serious work, introspective reflection and philosophical ruminations on the philosophy of aesthetics is almost here. Or not. Anyway, I'm Canadian which means I'm culturally required to mention the weather and if the temperature this week was any indication, fall is already here.

I have spent days sorting through the 800-some photos I snapped like a rabid, vista-starved retiree. Isn't this a pretty shot? I took it in Invermere at about 8 pm the night before the gallery opening. Property prices in Invermere are appalling because, as you can see, this spot is a little piece of paradise. I have never seen so many golf courses, mountain views, lakes, rivers, ski hills, hot springs and west-coast-hip villages crammed into such a few square countries (by European standards). Rich Albertans with their oil money have made it the resort destination of choice. Not only that, they buy art! And they did. In spite of the heat, four of my works sold the day of the reception and five have sold since then, not to mention the other smaller work that seems to walk out the door on a regular basis. Not bad for a gallery that's only been in business for three months. Kudos to Kate, the business manager, and Heather, the owner/artist-in-
residence, for doing such a great job.

If you look closely, you'll see me working at the table in the gallery's courtyard. It was a hot one that day, mid to upper 30s, but I sweated it out like the trouper I am. You know -- protestant work ethic and all that.

A fair number of people stopped by to chat and see what I was up to. Is there anything better than talking about me-me-me for three hours straight while people look at my work? Look out Hollywoood!



These are my biggest supporters. They know that if I manage to sell all 13 of this series they'll get Rock Band for the XBox. All of a sudden they're taking an interest in my art like never before. Children are such a comfort in one's old age, aren't they?

Greg was flipping through the local rag, The Columbia Valley Pioneer, the day before the show, while I was busy imposing my Olympics obsession on the entire family. (Yes, I'm an addict and yes, I love beach volleyball! So there.) He discovered this:

Stay tuned for more of the roadshow in future episodes. You'll want to find your dark glasses now so you can fall asleep without me noticing.