One week last month we took off to The Big City for a mid-January change of pace. Contrary to what many may think Vancouver in January is like, the days we were there were sunny and glorious and we spent many hours walking around, hanging out at the market, shops and art galleries of Granville Island, visiting friends and finding outstanding meals at city restaurants. The latter activity is particularly vital as it needs to carry us through our time with the less than stellar eateries in our part of the world (our own kitchen excepted, I might say). We stayed at our usual place in the West End and I soon found a few new smile-making additions to the neighborhood since we were there last summer.

I’ve been watching the Olympics this week including the opening ceremonies with its Alice in Wonderland type acid trip. The parade of the athletes was fun, as I gave running commentary on the teams’ outfits, mostly “boring boring boring”, except when Germany marched in with its rainbow of colors, which made me laugh and clap my hands. Clear winners, best in show. Of course the commentators couldn’t leave that one alone, suggesting it was a political message. Whatever. Rainbows are everywhere at Sochi, sometimes by stealth – I’ve noticed small rainbow flags held up in the crowds, but mostly overtly in the colors and patchwork graphics of the game venues, singlets, jackets and signage. The colors against the snow and blue sky of the outdoor slopes, or the ice rink boards or podiums are glorious, an art feast.

Speaking of art, back home the artistic world is very much alive and well. In our little town alone there are 3 art galleries plus a great art center called The Old School House, with gallery space changing up exhibits every month, resident artists’ studios, a gift shop, a regular concert series and art classes. It’s no coincidence that all of this is here, in this oceanside community filled with retirees. So many people I meet are following their particular artistic muse and passion whether it be photography, painting, sculpting, fabric art, model building, writing or gardening. It’s a time and place for creativity, now that the work life is done with and time is abundant and people are free now to follow up on all those dreams and passions.

My particular passion is color. (“It’s the colors, man”). I’ve done a lot of different art projects along the way (I’m still working on The Miniature Theater) but I’ve never painted. Until now. That particular urge seems to have found its way to me, and recently I’ve been playing with a new box of paint tubes, seeing what the colors, textures and brushes can do on a series of color wheel studies. Before I get too far down that painting path I decided it was time to learn to draw and just started 8 weeks of drawing classes at the art center. I’m having a complete blast.

The last time I took an art class I was a child in Montreal and Saturday mornings were spent at classes at the Museum of Fine Art on Sherbrooke Street. I remember well one morning in that class we had a guest visitor come to see us, an artist. I forget everything he spoke about, if anything, but I do remember well watching him sit down with paper and charcoal to draw for us. I watched over his shoulder as a picture emerged from the charcoal in his hand. It became the image of a very old man sitting in a very old cart being drawn by a very old horse. I was mesmerized as this image took shape with what seemed to be only a very few lines.

I wish I’d pinched that drawing. That artist visiting our children’s art class that long ago Saturday morning was Arthur Lismer – he of the Group of Seven fame.