VIVA CANADA

Two trains sit empty, waiting to be boarded beneath the deepening blues of a nighttime sky. My Mom and I were literally the first two people on the platform. There are no crowds, no luggage, and no people in sight. Instead, a powerful one-point perspective and strong contrast draw you in. Overhead, the large, Y-shaped columns rise up like a strong, welcoming gesture to open our journey.

A strong one-point perspective carries us forward as the train snakes beside a river in the BC interior mountains. Inside, my mother's elbow and hand rest gently on the armrest. In the glass, the window works its magic, reflecting the pink of her jacket into the early evening sky.

My Mom raises her hand to shield her face from the blinding sunlight while she reads, a gesture that looks entirely ordinary at first glance. But look closer, and that protective movement changes. Just two months after losing her life partner, she’s bravely trying to convince me she’s doing okay. Her fingers block the glare of the sky, but they also hide the deep grief she’s holding in her heart.

The rigid, uncompromising stoplight dominates this scene with its hard, linear grid offset by strong diagonals. But train travel is inherently social, so I wanted to inject some quirkiness into the geometry. Reflections of other passengers sharing the journey and a beer glass on a tray appears to be floating in space—playful details that capture the real magic of riding the rails.

I love the strong, graphic lines framing this interior; the organic rhythm in the fields is sharply contrasted against the hard edges of the dome car. Off to the right, a girl sits with a deeply pensive expression, but she isn't looking out at the prairie landscape. It makes me wonder what she’s thinking.

It feels as if that lonely bottle of ketchup on our table is the one experiencing the trip, quietly taking in the passing view along with us. Outside the dining car window, contemporary grain elevators and scrubland dominate the horizon. In the glass, the warm interior reflections blend seamlessly into this stark industrial scene, mixing domestic comfort into the landscape.

I really wanted to call this piece She’s Almost Gone. Look closely at the glass to see her fading profile. The reflection starts with vivid colour and strong contrast near her elbow, but it softens, dissolving into an etheric whisper as it moves toward her head. It gives the scene an otherworldly truth; six months later, she was gone.

I find lonely landscapes like this deeply appealing; the quiet solitude draws me in. I want to paint them. The appeal for me in this remote is created by the rain on the window. The streaks of water and the ripples in the slough imply movement in an otherwise static landscape.

"This is the spark. Looking out from the dark dome car at night, Toronto’s city lights stream across the train cars ahead. In this exact moment, everything clicked. I suddenly saw how window reflections could bemuse, beguile, and distort reality. This view became the true impetus for the entire series. It’s where the landscape stopped being just a view, and the story began."

This piece explores the contrasting colours of our inner and outer worlds. Inside the rail car, vibrant, warm tones surround us. Outside, the deepening evening cools into deep blues where motorcyclists patiently wait for our train to pass. For a brief moment, life is on hold for everyone. As we fly by, a man’s reflection in the glass quietly bridges two worlds.

A lonely house sits entirely by itself beside the ocean while a tidal estuary carries your eyes from the train into the distance. The lighting for this scene was noon under an overcast sky—flat, dull, and incredibly boring. My challenge was to bring life to an otherwise muted landscape. I leaned into the abundance of organic elements here, and I played!

I thoroughly enjoyed taking artistic liberties with this piece, finding a way to bring beauty to the mundane. As the final work in the series, looking out at Bedford Basin, we are nearing the VIA Rail Station in Halifax and bringing our journey to an end.