Artist Wendy Wilson
Where I started
I was born in a small, rural town in Ontario Canada. I spent a lot of time playing and wandering in the woods at the end of the street. At the time, it seemed a deep dense forest, full of mystery and woodsy secrets but when I go back and see it now, it is really just a small wooded park bordered by agricultural land. Growing up with trees and fields nearby was foundational in my love of nature.
I had always loved to draw and paint, but in a small town opportunities are few and mentors are scarce. I took art all through high school but whether it was the time, location, or circumstances, I didn’t develop my skills or a passion for pursuing art. Once I graduated high school, the pencils and brushes went away.
Art in my Family
When I was a little girl, I would watch my mother as she would sketch when she was talking on the telephone. (this was "back in the day" when a household had one phone, attached to the wall and all conversations were held in front of whomever happened to be in the room or passing through).
Absentmindedly, her pen would flit and flow across the page and before long there would be something real and beautiful. Horses, usually, but sometimes eyes and faces. I thought she was the most talented artist I had ever seen. Oh,how I longed to be able to do that! I would practice drawing in my room at my desk, mimicking her movements. Trying to be like her. I still find sketching a challenge to this day. Without a good eraser there is nowhere to hide!
My Great Uncle, Ralph Wallace Burton was an artist. Growing up, my family had a few of his paintings on the walls. I would often stare at them and marvel at how, with just a few brush strokes of colour, there would be a tree, a sunset, or rushing water. He studied under A.Y. Jackson of the well known Canadian Group of Seven and became friends with him as well as his student. Upon A.Y.'s death in April, 1974, Ralph was an honorary pall bearer.
Sadly, I didn't have much opportunity to know him. A formative memory for me is when we went to Ottawa to visit him. To this day, I can still recall the smell of his pipe tobacco - sweet, smoky and velvety. I went downstairs on an errand to go bring up a tin of Tinkertoys for my siblings to play with. While I was looking for the storage closet, I saw his art studio. It was the first time I saw the “scene behind the show”. That room enthralled me. It was filled with brushes and bottles and smells and it resonated deep within me. This is what being an artist looked like. Ralph Wallace Burton passed away in 1983 when I was 11. Although I never had the opportunity to sit down with him and discuss art and share my secret dream of being an artist, his body of work influences me today.
Where I ended up
I went to school and received my Bachelor of Education in the year 2002 and got married that summer. By 2005 I had two children, born 17 months apart. In 2007 I moved from my beloved Canada to North Carolina with my (then) husband and my very young daughters. For 10 years I was a stay at home mom to my two small girls, then ages 3 and 2. The part of my heart that my daughters occupied was overflowing - I loved being a mom. But after a couple of years I began to feel very alone and empty. I was away from my family and my friends and my marriage was quietly fading.
One day, while at a craft store buying craft supplies for my girls (I had set up a craft area for them so they always had the opportunity to explore their creativity) I went down the aisle that held paint and brushes and canvases. I remembered that moment, years ago in my Great Uncle’s studio and the same feeling of awe and inspiration came over me. I bough a canvas, a couple of brushes and a few acrylic paints. The painting “Alone” is what came out of that impulse. It very much symbolized how I was feeling at that time.
I didn’t paint again for several years after that. I focused on being a mom, then on being a divorced mom. Unable to move back to Canada, I had two choices to make. I could cross the days off my calendar or I could explore the place I had landed and make a life for myself here. I found a job, an apartment, and despite my vowing it would never happen again, a relationship. I began taking photographs with my iPhone. I always have it with me and using it, I can capture the things I want to remember and look back on - the Beautiful Unexpected.
Recently, I picked up the paintbrushes again. I had renewed my desire to be able to call myself an artist. In another lifetime, I would have gone to art school -learned the tricks and tools of the trade. That was not my path. I am entirely self taught. I have many, many canvases that I call “learning experiences”! Eventually my hand holding the paintbrush caught up with what I saw in my mind. I took a few classes taught by artists I admire and I practiced until I learned.
Where I am now
I love to paint landscapes. Trees. Mountains. Fields. Lakes. Any place I have sought solace in nature, whether in person, or in my imagination. My style could be described as impressionist, or painterly, but to me, I paint the world as I see it. I seek out the light and I paint the shapes I see that the light touches or hides from. I find the undertones and breathe life into them. I love to share the beauty of what I see and I hope my art can make you pause and experience a moment of that same delight and wonder that I feel.