I also really liked the image and thought I'd try it out using watercolors. Its pretty iconic and a bit hackneyed but the composition is sound. I filmed the whole thing and posted it for your viewing pleasure.
Friday, February 3, 2012
10 Most Deadly Things
This quick little watercolor is based on a viral poster that describes the 5 most dangerous things in the military. You've probably already seen it but if not you can find it here. I can relate to the Warrant Officer's "watch this..." one on many levels. Mine is called 10 Most Deadly Things because there are quite a few missing from the list including the RSM's "Back in my day this is how we did it...".
Wednesday, January 18, 2012
Defining Moments
This week I received a letter from the Canadian Forces Artist Program (CFAP). I've applied to them as the official program to gain access as artist to Canadian Forces, world-wide. Every year for the last 8 years they have selected 8-12 Canadian artists to be deployed with the military. They go on exercises, spend time on bases all over Canada and have even gone to Afghanistan for weeks at a time. This program was restarted in June of 2001 to re-invigorate the War Artist program started during WWI by Lord Beaverbrook. These people are the real Canadian War Artists and I've had the opportunity to meet and chat with a few of them. They are painters, photographers, poets, filmographers and playwrights. Unlike me, they are all full time, professionals who don't focus on the military as subject. When they are accepted into the program they commit to provide a body of work based on their exposure to the military and Afghanistan. This work is centralized at the Canadian War Museum in Ottawa and some also goes on tour across Canada. Their work can be gritty, honest and un-muzzled. Unfortunately, I won't be joining their ranks.
Its a great program and even though I was a bit deflated by the rejection, some army buddies reminded me again about why I took this on (and more importantly, why THEY backed me). My project is focused on documenting soldiers for soldiers. My own ego aside, they are the ones who sponsored me to go to Afghanistan and they are the ones who will benefit from the paintings. Even now, my pieces are starting to find their way into messes and regimental museums. Insha'allah, by the end of the project (and my time on this little green globe), every mess in Canada will sport one of my pieces. So even though my paintings might not ever hang in a gallery in Ottawa, I'm ok with the company they'll keep.
Speaking of which, this one above is a quick watercolor study of the bigger piece I'm working on. This is Sgt. Mike Scott who was also a big supporter morally, logistically and physically. I'm hoping this piece will eventually find its way to his mess.
Its a great program and even though I was a bit deflated by the rejection, some army buddies reminded me again about why I took this on (and more importantly, why THEY backed me). My project is focused on documenting soldiers for soldiers. My own ego aside, they are the ones who sponsored me to go to Afghanistan and they are the ones who will benefit from the paintings. Even now, my pieces are starting to find their way into messes and regimental museums. Insha'allah, by the end of the project (and my time on this little green globe), every mess in Canada will sport one of my pieces. So even though my paintings might not ever hang in a gallery in Ottawa, I'm ok with the company they'll keep.
Speaking of which, this one above is a quick watercolor study of the bigger piece I'm working on. This is Sgt. Mike Scott who was also a big supporter morally, logistically and physically. I'm hoping this piece will eventually find its way to his mess.Wednesday, November 23, 2011
Hand Grenades
I have to admit I have a deep-seated fondness for the common hand grenade. Even its name and history evoke a sense of wonder and awe. It was the French in the 1590's who devised the first of these little beauties and dubbed them "pomegranate" or "pomegrenate" from which "grenade" is derived from. If you believe Wiki then its the pomegranate's shape and seeding (or in the case of a grenade, shrapnel) that brought about the naming.
Don't get me wrong, as a means of killing, maiming and otherwise disposing of somebody, the hand grenade is a wicked and cruel device. Its indiscriminate and has a nasty habit of biting its handlers. Still, the boy inside me laughed with glee the first time I tossed a hand grenade some 25 years ago, during my basic training. I've tossed many since (high, low, short and long) and there still resides a sense of awe and respect for the devices. Design wise, they are simple, perfectly ergonomic and almost Apple like in their clean lines. Unlike other soldier tools, the grenade is very un-complicated and for the most part unchanged over the last 100 years: pull pin, throw and 3-5 seconds later, kaboom! As a tool for the infantry, they are indisputable in their value on the battlefield. Alleyways, rooms and holes are all sanitized by first tossing in a grenade. But as mentioned, the hand grenade cannot tell the difference between friend, foe or a small child and its for that reason that soldiers are so restrictive on their use.
Useful, wicked and beautiful. It was these attributes that attracted me to the idea of doing a series on the hand grenade. My intent is to treat each version with a different medium and allow the mediums to empower the attributes. Broken tile and pottery, neon lights and collage are a few ideas pinging around in my head. And they have to be big. Real big.
Don't get me wrong, as a means of killing, maiming and otherwise disposing of somebody, the hand grenade is a wicked and cruel device. Its indiscriminate and has a nasty habit of biting its handlers. Still, the boy inside me laughed with glee the first time I tossed a hand grenade some 25 years ago, during my basic training. I've tossed many since (high, low, short and long) and there still resides a sense of awe and respect for the devices. Design wise, they are simple, perfectly ergonomic and almost Apple like in their clean lines. Unlike other soldier tools, the grenade is very un-complicated and for the most part unchanged over the last 100 years: pull pin, throw and 3-5 seconds later, kaboom! As a tool for the infantry, they are indisputable in their value on the battlefield. Alleyways, rooms and holes are all sanitized by first tossing in a grenade. But as mentioned, the hand grenade cannot tell the difference between friend, foe or a small child and its for that reason that soldiers are so restrictive on their use.
Useful, wicked and beautiful. It was these attributes that attracted me to the idea of doing a series on the hand grenade. My intent is to treat each version with a different medium and allow the mediums to empower the attributes. Broken tile and pottery, neon lights and collage are a few ideas pinging around in my head. And they have to be big. Real big.
Tuesday, August 30, 2011
Ground Support Work in Progress
One of the main goals of this project was to capture and represent my friends and colleagues who have served overseas. So many friends have committed and sacrificed their time, sweat and even their blood in places like the mountainous Balkans and the sandpits of central Asia. Mike Scott is one of those guys who has seen and done it all.
Mike started his career at the Royal Westminster Regiment and has served pretty much all over the world. He has been a huge backer of my project and provided both material and logistical support. It was his body armor Shaun and I wore in country and he got us access to areas we normally would have been shunned from. Most importantly his insight into the war, Canada's involvement and the humor of the entire mission was absolutely key to getting the full picture.
Mike also has the coooooolest job in the Infantry. Mike is a door gunner on a Griffon helicopter. As mentioned in a previous post, Mike spent time with us and allowed Shaun to take some great photos. These photos are being used on my current piece which I'm tentatively calling 'Ground Support'.
I'm also incorporating some of Shaun's brilliant prose into this painting. In fact, he's written a piece specifically about Mike and his high-speed job:
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Turning and turning
High overhead,
The Falcon,
Fierce, patient
Awaiting the falconer….
And when he calls
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world
The guns o' the enemy wheel into line…
What fury be called,
When our word
Is the ‘breath of Allah’
Shaun James O'Mara,
copywrite 2011
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Mike started his career at the Royal Westminster Regiment and has served pretty much all over the world. He has been a huge backer of my project and provided both material and logistical support. It was his body armor Shaun and I wore in country and he got us access to areas we normally would have been shunned from. Most importantly his insight into the war, Canada's involvement and the humor of the entire mission was absolutely key to getting the full picture.
Mike also has the coooooolest job in the Infantry. Mike is a door gunner on a Griffon helicopter. As mentioned in a previous post, Mike spent time with us and allowed Shaun to take some great photos. These photos are being used on my current piece which I'm tentatively calling 'Ground Support'.
I'm also incorporating some of Shaun's brilliant prose into this painting. In fact, he's written a piece specifically about Mike and his high-speed job:
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Turning and turning
High overhead,
The Falcon,
Fierce, patient
Awaiting the falconer….
And when he calls
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world
The guns o' the enemy wheel into line…
What fury be called,
When our word
Is the ‘breath of Allah’
Shaun James O'Mara,
copywrite 2011
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Saturday, August 27, 2011
Reports and Returns
Last week I started turning in my kit to the regiment. I've seen enough people perform this exercise in front the Regimental Quartermaster to know the routine but it still felt very... wrong? Maybe just weird.
I also have been working on an idea of incorporating more 'experiential' subjects into my paintings. This is an idea I've had for a while where the painting is less allegorical and more blatant. I think it might be crude and not very subtle, but its worth exploring. I seem to be doing a lot of that on this project. The story is simple and maybe a bit overplayed. Its about a soldier deployed who is working on his reports and has a recent letter from his wife open on his desk. In fact, the entire tableau is his desk: a map, reports and returns, his side-arm and a photo of his wife. Everything is in black and white expect the photo of the wife.
I say this is a bit hackneyed and out of date because with Afghanistan, the soldiers can pretty much talk to their family whenever they want. They get set time for calls, there is skype, email, Facebook and to be honest most of the people we talked to said they're in constant contact with their family. I guess, if anything, this painting will be an homage to that time before communication became so easy and readily available. And, despite the easy access to loved ones, the same old problems still exist: breakups, sickness, debt, bad report cards. As with any other war, small problems from home have a way of magnifying as they travel the distance between there and deployment. Maybe its that constant awareness that causes some of the stress (ignorance is bliss). These small problems cause huge hurt to the people who cannot just get on a plane to come home to deal with it. No, they have to stay on task and live with it. But some soldiers cannot always find ways to live with these stresses and thankfully, even less find the solution at the end of their side-arm.
I also have been working on an idea of incorporating more 'experiential' subjects into my paintings. This is an idea I've had for a while where the painting is less allegorical and more blatant. I think it might be crude and not very subtle, but its worth exploring. I seem to be doing a lot of that on this project. The story is simple and maybe a bit overplayed. Its about a soldier deployed who is working on his reports and has a recent letter from his wife open on his desk. In fact, the entire tableau is his desk: a map, reports and returns, his side-arm and a photo of his wife. Everything is in black and white expect the photo of the wife.
I say this is a bit hackneyed and out of date because with Afghanistan, the soldiers can pretty much talk to their family whenever they want. They get set time for calls, there is skype, email, Facebook and to be honest most of the people we talked to said they're in constant contact with their family. I guess, if anything, this painting will be an homage to that time before communication became so easy and readily available. And, despite the easy access to loved ones, the same old problems still exist: breakups, sickness, debt, bad report cards. As with any other war, small problems from home have a way of magnifying as they travel the distance between there and deployment. Maybe its that constant awareness that causes some of the stress (ignorance is bliss). These small problems cause huge hurt to the people who cannot just get on a plane to come home to deal with it. No, they have to stay on task and live with it. But some soldiers cannot always find ways to live with these stresses and thankfully, even less find the solution at the end of their side-arm.
Thursday, June 9, 2011
Images on Walls
Its now been a couple months since coming home from Afghanistan and the real world (the life I live outside of painting) has caught up to me fast. New jobs, new places, new people and many of the same old stresses in life: paying mortgages, bills, kids school and a host of issues that challenge ones grip on what is normal in life. And that is normal I guess.
I have dreamed of Afghanistan (or something like it) a couple of times and I catch myself reminiscing about the place . Kind of sick for sure because there is little about the country that endears itself to me. While it has not invaded my dreams in any troubling ways I have found it to enter my thoughts quite a bit. In my job I have to come up with creative ways to solve problems for the businesses that employ me. Whether its solving a problem with a painting or a software process I start by just letting my mind wander... not hard for me as I tend to daydream constantly (even writing this I drifted off a few times :) I turn off my mind, clear it of thoughts or distractions and eventually images and ideas will form from very mundane subjects. Clouds, concrete walls, carpet or whatever is in front of me at the time. At work, I look out the window and stare at the wall across form my office downtown and odd visuals come into play. Lately, even when I'm working on a specific business process sometime the afghan imagery slips its way into my day. Islamic graffiti on walls (5th floor walls albeit), soldiers faces made out of snakes and landscapes.... so many landscapes. Some of these I need to jot down because I think I might use them. Some are a little dark and I'm not sure how or why I'd want to paint them.
All of them remind me that I still have unfinished work.
I have dreamed of Afghanistan (or something like it) a couple of times and I catch myself reminiscing about the place . Kind of sick for sure because there is little about the country that endears itself to me. While it has not invaded my dreams in any troubling ways I have found it to enter my thoughts quite a bit. In my job I have to come up with creative ways to solve problems for the businesses that employ me. Whether its solving a problem with a painting or a software process I start by just letting my mind wander... not hard for me as I tend to daydream constantly (even writing this I drifted off a few times :) I turn off my mind, clear it of thoughts or distractions and eventually images and ideas will form from very mundane subjects. Clouds, concrete walls, carpet or whatever is in front of me at the time. At work, I look out the window and stare at the wall across form my office downtown and odd visuals come into play. Lately, even when I'm working on a specific business process sometime the afghan imagery slips its way into my day. Islamic graffiti on walls (5th floor walls albeit), soldiers faces made out of snakes and landscapes.... so many landscapes. Some of these I need to jot down because I think I might use them. Some are a little dark and I'm not sure how or why I'd want to paint them.
All of them remind me that I still have unfinished work.
Monday, April 25, 2011
April 7, Kandahar, Afghanistan
Insert from Shaun O’Mara on his trip north:
Today I got a last minute invite to take the last seat on a Blackhawk to the north of the country to document the latest Afghan National police Academy graduation with an American Marine Colonel. I jumped at the chance, offered condolences to Bair, grabbed cameras and went out to the ramp.
There was no Colonel to meet, the graduation wasn’t that day, there were in fact four seats left and the American photographers were getting territorial. However, when two Blackhawks pull up like taxis outside the Roxy at closing time – do you really care where and with whom we’re going?!
We flew fast and low out of Kandahar and gained altitude the further north we went. I was met at the American FOB by a fresh-faced Californian girl (who also happened to be a sergeant – aren’t they all?) to my VIP room in the desert ghetto.
The following day I met up with a Stryker patrol (American armoured vehicle with 7.62 and a 20mm canon crewed by four.) The crew was hospitable enough, but seemed to lack operational maturity compared to our exceptional Canadian crews (we almost drove over some locals due to communication difficulties.)
Watching the northern town fly by through the sight picture screen of the 20mm, we arrived with only one near fatality at the newly appointed police academy (staffed by USMC mentors.) Watching the recruits hold an AK in one hand and a Qu’ran in the other screaming out their oaths was almost as surreal as the Afghan marching methods (think Russian troops being trained by the Ministry of Silly Walks.) I was left with the mild feeling that vampires had been left in charge of the local bloodbank; and since it was ‘man-love Thursday’ and the convoy was leaving and no-one knew how I as to proceed from this desolate northern town prone to riot where they play croquets with the heads of foreigners – I decided to hitch a ride back with my previous hosts.
Having missed a horrible dinner in the US DFAC I consoled myself to eating soft serve ice cream on top of the rocket bunker watching the hazy Afghani sun sink into the hills (that Hannibal, Alexander, Attila, the British, the Nazis and Soviets all failed to conquer) thoroughly convinced that at any minute I was going to get jacked sky high for my slovenly and ill-disciplined behavior.
A colonel greeted me a good evening and a over zealous Presbyterian pastor was the only one who invited me down ‘frum thar’ to attend a service that was touted as ‘Lively with Christ!’
GOB BLESS AMERICA! AND AFGHANISTAN! (I hope the hard fought contest for kookiest country on earth is settled soon…..)
SJO
Insert from Shaun O’Mara on his trip north:
Today I got a last minute invite to take the last seat on a Blackhawk to the north of the country to document the latest Afghan National police Academy graduation with an American Marine Colonel. I jumped at the chance, offered condolences to Bair, grabbed cameras and went out to the ramp.
There was no Colonel to meet, the graduation wasn’t that day, there were in fact four seats left and the American photographers were getting territorial. However, when two Blackhawks pull up like taxis outside the Roxy at closing time – do you really care where and with whom we’re going?!
We flew fast and low out of Kandahar and gained altitude the further north we went. I was met at the American FOB by a fresh-faced Californian girl (who also happened to be a sergeant – aren’t they all?) to my VIP room in the desert ghetto.
The following day I met up with a Stryker patrol (American armoured vehicle with 7.62 and a 20mm canon crewed by four.) The crew was hospitable enough, but seemed to lack operational maturity compared to our exceptional Canadian crews (we almost drove over some locals due to communication difficulties.)
Watching the northern town fly by through the sight picture screen of the 20mm, we arrived with only one near fatality at the newly appointed police academy (staffed by USMC mentors.) Watching the recruits hold an AK in one hand and a Qu’ran in the other screaming out their oaths was almost as surreal as the Afghan marching methods (think Russian troops being trained by the Ministry of Silly Walks.) I was left with the mild feeling that vampires had been left in charge of the local bloodbank; and since it was ‘man-love Thursday’ and the convoy was leaving and no-one knew how I as to proceed from this desolate northern town prone to riot where they play croquets with the heads of foreigners – I decided to hitch a ride back with my previous hosts.
Having missed a horrible dinner in the US DFAC I consoled myself to eating soft serve ice cream on top of the rocket bunker watching the hazy Afghani sun sink into the hills (that Hannibal, Alexander, Attila, the British, the Nazis and Soviets all failed to conquer) thoroughly convinced that at any minute I was going to get jacked sky high for my slovenly and ill-disciplined behavior.
A colonel greeted me a good evening and a over zealous Presbyterian pastor was the only one who invited me down ‘frum thar’ to attend a service that was touted as ‘Lively with Christ!’
GOB BLESS AMERICA! AND AFGHANISTAN! (I hope the hard fought contest for kookiest country on earth is settled soon…..)
SJO
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