Wow–it has to be genetics..I think in my unconscious I long for the Quebec that my Grandmother talked about, I long for the
native tongue to be spoken all around me. I so frequently draw and paint small villages with a predominant church in the foreground; I have wondered about my fascination with these scenes. It is not until you pointed out this group that I had the association with
a deep and longing unconscious vision of Canadian woods and Canadian hospitality and Canadian values.
As a boy the church was the center of the community and when I paint or draw, I get myself into a zone where nothing matters–there is no future and no past. I am content in the moment. I am sure that this reflects the boyhood visions that were re enforced by my grandmothers stories of the homeland….She was born just outside of Quebec City in 1888.
When she would visit with her siblings she would send me post cards–usually in black and white of country side images…