These cubist, minimalistic, landscapes are a new world I am playing in.  They are inspired by the seemingly never-ending expansive prairie landscape -- in the winter and summer -- and its one-of-a-kind blue sky and gentle clouds. As well, they are my exploration of the horizon over Lake Winnipeg and the Great Lakes, that I am blessed to often frequent.

No matter which you choose -- the horizon over land or water -- I hope they do the same for you as they do for me as I paint them: Give you peace and calm and remind you to "just breathe".

MY ART IS ABOUT MY LIFE AND OF THOSE AROUND ME

2017 has been a challenging year, with a wide roller coaster range of emotions.  A year that has built me up and knocked me down, but ultimately has made me a better, stronger person.  In the end, I walk forward carrying an ever clearer life perspective.

After a long battle with cancer, one of my dearest friends -- Rick McMillan -- died.  I did my best to walk along by his side -- as well as I could -- on that part of the journey he didn't have to, walk alone.  

There were obvious up's and downs on this path and often, my art was my quiet refuge. 

Through his final months I kept working on one painting in particular to escape.  Interestingly, it was every bit as big of a struggle as the last months were, watching my friend fade.

Remarkably, finally finished it bares absolutely no resemblance to what it started out as.  And I mean, nothing like what I intended it to be at the outset.  (Just like life, I guess.) It even became a landscape!  Go figure.  I called it A PRAIRIE BOYS WINTER (24x24") :

It turns out that as Rick faded,  what the painting was to become, became clearer.

If I wanted to analyze it... I suppose it was likely my subconscious needing to take me back to my childhood roots.       

To the large open swaths of the prairies where I can often find comfort and solace in its expansive spaces or to my beloved cottage at Victoria Beach as I look over massive Lake Winnipeg.       

A place to take a deep breath. 

To just breathe, as I look on in wonder at how big a planet we live in.  How it can seem to go on and on and on.  Its grandeur and its power.  A big help in times where I have no control.  How I am just a speck in this huge cosmos and that it is okay -- if not comforting -- to be, just that.  It was also probably a reflection of my need to look up to the heavens at times.  To find peace in the expansiveness and unknown of the above.  Moments where I allow the freedom of my mind and imagination to roam when I want/need to reaffirm what I truly believe: That there is more to this life than we know.

I think Rick would have loved it. He always loved painting landscapes and he would have smiled at what I created.  More importantly, that he was very much a part of its -- and my -- evolution. He always encouraged me to push the boundaries and let go.  This painting is a reflection of just that. If you know anything about me...landscapes are not what I normally do.

I'd like to think Rick was just about to fly into this winter scene in his plane, thumbs up, yelling "Rock on, Stelmack! Happy trails!"

So, "rock on", I will.  

In his memory, I have now created a series of artworks that I am officially releasing at the Riverdale Artwalk June 3-4th, 2018 in Toronto called MARSHMALLOW SKIES. This series keeps Rick ever present for me and I hope they encourage each viewer to escape, to dream and to embrace the beautiful wonder of being alive.  To always embrace and experience the majestic expansive beauty of everything around us.

And, to just, breathe.