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The first Art I can remember creating was with my Mom. She was a great drawer. I loved seeing all of her doodles as a kid. She would always draw fashionista type models just like we would see in the newspapers. I remember asking her to draw the character Rocket Robin Hood for me, and to my total amazement, there he was on the page looking exactly like he did on TV. Wide eyed, Robin came to life right in front of me, through my Mom's hand. It totally blew my mind. It would have been around 1970-71, and I'd be three or four. It inspired me to try and draw him just like Mom could, and I practiced, and I practiced.
Also in those pre kindergarden days, she would fill a bucket of water for me, and she would sit every morning, have her coffee, and tell me what to pretend paint on our old light blue garage door. I used an old paintbrush of my Dad's, and she would say, "make an elephant" "now do a car" or a "dog" etc. and I would do my best. She would then tell me how great it was, even if it wasn't. We'd then watch the image disappear into the sun as the water evaporated, and repeat it for hours. Looking back, it was the perfect place to create uninhibited Art,
care free, surrounded and encouraged by only love. 

Only a few years later, I had my first commission at the age of seven, in grade two. It was a drawing of a comic book hero Conan the Barbarian, and I of received twenty-five cents for something I loved doing. Thanks Mom.


   
Though I excelled at Art right through High school, I abandoned it almost entirely in my twenties, and the 1990's. I did the Government job thing in the concrete jungle of downtown Toronto for just shy of receiving my gold plated ten year pin. Though my Mom inspired the Artist in me, she never got to see me make my living through creating Art. We lost Mom to cancer on May 8, 1995.
Twenty years ago today as I write this. If only I could hear what she would like me to paint today. But wait . . . . maybe I can.

 


It was only a few months after Mom passed that I met my new best friend and future wife Jeanette, who showed me the way back to Art. She had asked me to draw her a wolf for our first Christmas together, which I did, and the fire was stoked again. A couple months later, she bought me a new set of oil paints and brushes, and I've had paint on all of my clothes ever since. In 2001 we cashed out of the concrete neon scene and bought property back home on the North Shore of Prince Edward Island directly in the middle of nowhere, but halfway to everywhere. In 2002 Jeanette and I opened our first form of Walker Studios. 

 


Some people say artist's see the world differently than other people. Well I don't know how other people see it, but I know that since I've been living next to the ocean and woods, my focus definitely has sharpened to the beauty of Mother Nature. That is the ultimate Art. Those City years I think I became half blind to nature's beauty, but I did see the corporate world pretty clearly, and it was not for me. These past fourteen years of falling asleep to the sound of the ocean have now erased those years of hearing city traffic. The beauty of fresh air and water for all living things is now what I live to see and hear. I like to think I now speak to Mom through Mother Earth. I see her, and I hear her everyday. I've painted about the good ole days for quite a while now, and I still have so many unfinished ideas I will paint one day. But right now, I can no longer disregard the noises inside my head and heart. Something is pushing me to paint the noises. I can no longer sit back and watch large corporations and corrupt governments benefit by poisoning us, controlling our food, and depleting all of Mother Earth's resources. 

My new work will look nothing like my current style. It will be of a Street Art/protest style if you will. Spontaneous, mostly created on the fly, and will debut at the Gallery sometime in July. It is not going to be a big hit with my local farming and fishing community. I know it is not the fault of those people who do the first hand work. They are providing for their families with the only options that they have. But they don't control their work anymore, the corporations do. Mother Earth and all of its inhabitants are being poisoned by corporate greed right in front of us. People are dying. Fish and birds and bees are dying. They are being killed by poisons to make a few people wealthy. Poisoned.  If artist's do see the world differently, then shouldn't it be their duty to create work that helps others see things they may not normally notice, and bring awareness? Some people just keep on going, never saying or doing anything. Well  I hear you Mom. I'm standing up. It is time for me to use my Art as an offensive weapon against the enemy.  And just like you taught me, Art is never better than when it's from the heart, and I've always loved creating Art for Mom.