There are some special events in life which count as high water marks. They might not appear special at the time but, upon recollection, loom over other events, becoming the measure by which we judge the more ordinary experiences of life.
You can never anticipate where an idea can be found.
In the summer of 1998 I was fishing at one of my favourite spots on Lake Manitowaba, which lies just outside Parry Sound. In front of the boar I was in reared a slab of sheer rock, known to the people around the lake as the Rock Face. On it were the whitish traces left by the lake's fluctuating level, identifying when it had been high and when low.
As I looked at the markings I was struck by how steeply the level of the lake had dropped. I started to think of the mark and imprint of significant events in a person's life: their high water marks. And I also started to think about how the two – the Rock Face and human events – could be united in a single painting, a single experience.
You can never anticipate where an idea can be found.
In the summer of 1998 I was fishing at one of my favourite spots on Lake Manitowaba, which lies just outside Parry Sound. In front of the boar I was in reared a slab of sheer rock, known to the people around the lake as the Rock Face. On it were the whitish traces left by the lake's fluctuating level, identifying when it had been high and when low.
As I looked at the markings I was struck by how steeply the level of the lake had dropped. I started to think of the mark and imprint of significant events in a person's life: their high water marks. And I also started to think about how the two – the Rock Face and human events – could be united in a single painting, a single experience.