Rituals of Winter, Roads to Spring: Paintings of 2026

A third of the way through the year feels like the right moment to pause and take stock of what has been unfolding in the studio, these are the first paintings of 2026.

January opened in a distinctly Canadian key. Winter settled in not just outside, but inside the work itself. My focus turned to the Rocky Mountains, to the rhythm of cold days, long shadows, and the rituals that shape life in this season. I began with skiing. Not just the act, but the full experience surrounding it. The landscape, the light, the quiet exhilaration, and the social rituals that follow. Snow drapes the mountains in soft planes of pastel colour, interrupted by sharp blue shadows and crisp skies. It becomes both stage and atmosphere.

The first painting of 2026 captures a simple moment. Two hands raise glasses of Aperol Spritz in a quiet toast at the end of a day on the slopes. The vivid orange glows against a sweeping alpine backdrop. In the distance, a lone skier cuts across the white expanse, the last movement before stillness takes over. It is a painting about balance. Effort and rest. Cold air and warmth. Solitude and shared experience. A small human gesture set against something vast.

This thread carried forward into works like Double the Swish and Bottoms Up, which continue to explore the culture of the mountain. These are not just images of skiing, but of the stories that unfold around it.

Another painting shifts the focus slightly. A couple stands before a snow-covered peak beneath an electric blue sky. Their toques are pulled low, obscuring their eyes, just as they lean in to kiss. It is playful, intimate, and slightly anonymous. A universal moment held within a distinctly Canadian setting.

Paintings of 2026: Hockey Stories

From there, the work moved naturally into hockey.

Outdoor hockey, specifically. The kind played on frozen ponds rather than inside arenas. The kind that belongs as much to memory as it does to sport.

In Pushing the Puck, three players surge across the ice in a tightly wound moment of play. At the centre, a skater in a red plaid jacket leans forward with intent, flanked by opponents in blue and white jerseys. The mix of outdoor clothing and traditional uniforms blurs the line between formal sport and improvised game.

The painting is about movement and rhythm, but also about familiarity. Hockey here is not spectacle. It is lived experience. A shared language shaped by winter, community, and repetition.

That idea expands in Toronto Winter. A lone figure stands on a frozen expanse, poised before taking a shot. The CN Tower rises quietly in the distance, its presence unmistakable but subdued. The skater’s back is turned, drawing the viewer into a private, almost meditative moment.

This is not the roar of a crowd. It is the quiet focus of being alone on the ice. The city feels both near and distant, suggesting a tension between urban life and personal escape. The bold red jacket grounds the composition, a human pulse against the stillness of blue and white.

As winter gave way to spring, the work began to shift.

A commissioned painting introduced new elements. A beach, puffins, herons, a cottage, and distant islands. The imagery opened outward, moving from enclosed winter scenes into broader coastal spaces.

This transition led into Gateway to The World. Three figures stand at the edge of a vast ocean, looking outward toward a line of snow-capped mountains. The water stretches into a deep, contemplative blue, broken by fragments of ice. The scene feels both expansive and introspective, as if the figures are standing at the threshold of something unknown yet familiar.

At the same time, I returned to my ongoing series of interventions into Canadian art history. These works engage directly with painters such as Lawren Harris and Emily Carr, not simply as homage, but as a way of entering the conversation they began.

In The Red We Carry, I step into a landscape inspired by Emily Carr’s Indian Church. This is not a reproduction, but a re-entry. A contemporary body placed within a historic visual language. The work becomes layered, holding past and present in the same frame.

It asks how identity is shaped over time, how histories remain embedded in place, and how the landscape continues to carry these narratives forward.

Now, moving into the next phase of the year, I am beginning a new commissioned work focused on the West Coast. Looking back at the past few months, there is a clear sense of movement. From mountains to ice, from cities to shorelines.

Each painting feels like a waypoint. Together, they form a larger journey that continues to unfold. Enjoy more paintings here.