Dreamer - 9"x12" pen and ink $300
I’m a dreamer - mostly of the daydream variety. In the middle of a staff meeting at work, my mind will often drift off to a patch of remote BC coastline where the only sounds are the waves and the gulls, and the breath of grizzly bears digging for clams along the shoreline.
I also dream of the sounds and smells found along cobblestone streets I’ve never walked, in small remote villages I’ve never visited... like this one. I don’t actually know where the original photo that I used for this sketch was taken. But I hope that I will visit there – someday.
I’ve always been a dreamer, and as I get older, I find that I dream more... not less.
My dad was a dreamer too. When he was a young man, he wanted to own a remote fishing lodge. He had the chance... but it would have been a huge sacrifice and financial risk for the family, and even though my mother would have gone along with it, he decided that he couldn’t ask that of his wife and kids, so he set that dream aside.
My dad was obsessed with fishing. He dreamed of flies and fly lines in the manner that Homer Simpson dreams of donuts and beer. We didn’t live anywhere near the places that he longed to fish and as a result he might only fish 2 or 3 times a year, but in the evenings and on weekends, after the day’s work was done, he’d be tying flies or varnishing a cane flyrod or otherwise relentlessly tinkering with his gear. I was too young to understand at the time that what I was witnessing was someone who was actively dreaming.
My dad always told himself that when he retired, he’d have time to fish... time to chase his dream. Sadly, things didn’t work out that way. The fishing deteriorated after he retired, and even when he and my mom moved repeatedly up the coast to follow the fish, that dream eluded him. His health had begun to deteriorate, and that dream would remain out of reach.
I remember as a younger man being completely at a loss for why my dad would buy a new boat in his 70’s when it was clear to everyone that he was never going to be able to sail it. That boat never left his garage... it never touched water. But years later, now that I’m approaching my own retirement and most of the brown on the top of my head has been replaced with grey and white... I finally get it
That boat may have never touched water, but I’m pretty sure he was sailing it.
The Naam Restaurant 🍽 was started back in 1968, a year before I was born. It would have begun as a part of the hippie and natural health movement that was prevalent in that neighborhood back in the 60’s and 70’s. It is one of the last remaining vestiges of that chapter of the neighborhood’s past, but the restaurant endures... and has become a cornerstone of the Kitsilano community. 🏡🏠🏘🏡🏘
The Elbow Room Cafe - 7"x10" pen and ink. $175
My best memory of the Elbow Room Cafe? ❤☕🍽 ❤ On my very first visit I was coming in the front door when I got knocked flat by 2 tourists leaving the cafe in a huff. 🤬 I suspect they had only just arrived... but I think that they got more than they had bargained for! I’m 95% sure that they lacked a fundamental understanding of what the Elbow Room was all about, and I'm 100% certain that they lacked a particular sense of humor.
Going to the Elbow Room... you had to know what you were in for.
The place was only slightly larger than a postage stamp and could seat 20... with synchronized breathing. There was always a lineup on the weekends... and then there was the sign on the wall which read: Food and service is our name, but ABUSE is our game!
That was a large part of what made the place so popular. Yes, the food was excellent and the portions gargantuan (if you didn’t finish your meal then out would come the tin can for you to donate to the Loving Spoonful charity)... but it was the good natured abuse that would be hurled at you with a wink and a smile that made the place so special. “Get your own d@mn coffee” was a refrain heard many times when somebody asked for a refill... and heaven help you if you asked for decaf...
And honestly? It was wonderful... the cafe had a unique voice that was playful and authentic. Owners Patrice, Brian and their staff really created something more than just a great breakfast scene... they created a small world in a big city that became a part of the fabric of the West End.
I was sad to learn that Brian passed away several years ago, and I understand that Patrice made the difficult decision to close the restaurant’s doors a few years back after a wonderful, decades-long run as a restauranteur. You don’t find a lot of places like the Elbow Room these days... places with great food, great community and great vibe. Heck, these days it sometimes feels like a challenge to even find places great service, and I guess that shouldn’t be surprising... Because at the heart of great service... you will always find those who serve with great heart.
Thank you Elbow Room, for decades of serving us from the heart and for giving us so many great memories!
You are loved and missed. ❤
Question - what was your favorite candy AND favorite store to buy it at when you were growing up?
Part of the right of passage through any childhood used to involve those summer trips to the corner store, with pockets full of change that you saved up to buy some treats with your friends. Back then there was a corner store like this one in most neighborhoods. This is Hardy's in North Vancouver, right near the Cleveland Dam - no idea how many generations of kids have gone there, but that number has got to be getting up there.














If you’ve recently wandered around Edgemont Village, you may have come across this curious little back-alley oasis. This spot is on an unused lot that someone has converted into a makeshift garden and public space by means of combining an artistic vision that utilizes a curious collection of dilapidated lawn furniture, a wide assortment of old vehicle tires, some old potted plants that seemingly refuse to die, and a menagerie of other quirkily repurposed items.




‘Vancouver, You’re Beautiful’ ❤12”x18” Pen and Ink - $700
One of the things that makes the Greater Vancouver Area so special is that we are seemingly surrounded by rivers and oceans. Makes for a tough commute with all the bridge traffic🚙🚎🚑, but at least you’ve got something beautiful to look at while you’re stuck in rush hour.
When I was growing up, my mom took our sister everywhere on the North Shore transit system. It couldn’t have been easy with 2 small kids in tow, and I definitely didn’t make it any easier on her.
My mom believed that, seeing as we were surrounded by water, it was essential that her kids learn how to swim 🏊♀️at a young age. So, one summer she decided to sign me up for swimming lessons. Seems like a good idea, right? Problem was, all the lessons at the local pool were full – so she had to sign me up for lessons at the pool just off of Lonsdale, which was a multi-bus trip there… 🚎🚎🚎and back. 🚎🚎🚎The other problem was I refused to go. 🛑🛑🛑
I was terrified of the pool. It was big and noisy and crowded… oh, and then there was the water… I was petrified of the deep end, and our instructor had told us that next week we would be swimming in that end of the pool. At the ripe old age of 6ish(?) I decided, ‘that wasn’t happening’ and thus began the greatest series of games of hide and seek ever played between a kid and an irate parent.
Such was my desire to avoid the deep end of the pool that my 6 year old brain developed some truly fiendish hiding spots… including the bottom of the laundry hamper... and inside the cloths drier…And while my mom would eventually find me, I had realized that all I had to do was stay hidden long enough that we would miss our bus, and I think the score was something like ‘kid – 4, irate mother - 0’… that is until my mother got smart.
One morning she got me ready early, let me hide, waited 10 minutes, and then told me that we had missed the bus. When I popped up like a grinning gopher from behind the couch she shouted ‘Gotcha!’ and literally carried me under her arm out the door to get to our bus stop on time. And I’m pretty certain that she must have been feeling pretty smug about things as the bus pulled out into traffic with us halfway down the isle… that is, right until, in the middle of the bus, I ‘might’ have possibly said (at the top of my lungs): ‘YOU’RE NOT MY MOTHER!!!’ and ‘I DON’T KNOW YOU!!!’ and possibly a few other phrases that we had just learned the week prior at school during a lesson on ‘stranger danger’.
Needless to say, we DIDN’T make it to swimming lessons that day either. And I’m pretty sure that I may be going to hell for that little stunt. But it did all work out ok in the end… I did eventually learn how to swim, my mom did grudgingly forgive me, and at some point long after that... my mom and I were both FINALLY allowed back on public transit.
Happy Mother’s Day Mom. To you and to every mom everywhere – you all have the heart and the patience of a saint, and there is no one who is more dear in our hearts. ❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤
"Remote and Still" 7"x10" - Pen and Ink $200.
Lower Lonsdale - 7"x10" pen and ink. $250
[Sold] 'The Shire' - 20"x26" with simple white frame. $1650. Showing at West Vancouver City Hall Feb through April.
Crossing - 14"x11" Simple white frame and matting. $425. Showing @ West Vancouver City Hall Feb through April.
A Light in the Park - 23"x29" White italian wood frame, uv resistant glass and matting $1200. Showing @ The Silk Purse Gallery in West Vancouver Jan 10th through Feb 4th.
Pages from a Book - 14"x11" Simple white frame and matting. $525. Showing @ West Vancouver City Hall Feb through April.
Our Town - 19" x 25" Simple white frame. $1650. Showing @ West Vancouver City Hall Feb through April.
Horseshoe Bay - 18" x 24" White wooden frame w mat. $950. Showing @ West Vancouver City Hall Feb through April.
Growing Community - 21' x 17" Black wooden frame w mat. $575. Showing @ West Vancouver City Hall Feb through April.
Final Visit - 14"x11" Simple white frame with mat. $375. Showing @ West Vancouver City Hall Feb through April.
Lost in the Moment - 14"x11" Simple white frame and mat. $450. Showing @ West Vancouver City Hall Feb through April.
Lest We Forget - 7" x 10" $200.
Granville Island 9" x 12" $375
Unexpected Surprise - 14"x11" framed and matted $450. Showing @ West Vancouver City Hall Feb through April.
22nd and Marine 8" x 6" $150
View of UBC 7" x 10" $200