Silverton Creek in Banff National Park was always a favourite to visit on a sunny winter day either on snowshoes or cross country skis. Below a cascading waterfalls the creek slows to a meander through the mostly coniferous forest making for an extremely pleasant place to sit and enjoy the sun and sound.

Ranger Creek, again in Banff National Park was one of those pleasant discoveries chosen from a topographic map, bushwacked to get to and well worth it. On this particular day while I was exploring various viewpoints of the creek my brother wandered upstream to explore for himself. Some minutes later he returned soaking wet and chilled to the bone as he had attempted to cross the creek on a very rotten but deceptively stable looking log only to get a very cold, early spring dunking. Fortunately, we were both equipped with mountain survival gear, dry clothes and a six pack, and he was soon restored to his jocular self.

The Fairholme Range facing the south towards the townsite of Banff seemed to always bask in the light of a full moon. This landscape painting entitled Starry Night depicts just such a night and to add to the noctunal splendour the sky was completely filled with stars bright enough to present quite a spectacle despite the intensity of the illuminated mountain range. This serigraph was printed using only 5 colours yet still manages to effectively portray the scene, sometimes less is more.

Prairie Summer was painted, and later printed in the form of a serigraph, from an original photograph by award winning Calgary photographer Stanley Kruk. Stan had shown me some of his recent prairie images and I was completely taken by this old barn near Three Hills Alberta being propped up in it’s later life by a board on the one side. The endless canola field describing the vastness of the Canadian prairies accompanied by the almost three dimensional clouds floating in the richly coloured sky combine to give a feeling of aloneness in the universe, yet a most pleasant aloneness.

The following are a diverse sample of the many serigraph editions of landscape paintings that I have printed over the years. Serigraphs are silkscreen prints. The word serigraph comes from ‘seri’ meaning silk, much like the East Indian silk garment, the Sari. 'Graph’ means to draw, hence: drawing with silk. In it’s simplest form, one colour is printed on each of the prints in the edition, then using another silkscreen for the next colour, a second area is printed and so on until all the desired colours have been done. These images are hand printed by myself and some prints have required as many as 28 colours. It is a long, laborious, finicky, temperamental, physically demanding process that is conducted in a cloud of brain melting toxic vapour. For these reasons I decided a few years ago to forego any further damage to my health and give up printing serigraphs.

There are still a very few printmakers around that print serigraphs but, as may be surmised, they are a dying breed.