The Grande Theatre Democracy, on the backside of The Legislature has no dome.
Unity...
2025-08-11, On location, currently painting,
Tongues of Dust and Diesel - The Roots
2018, Sideways, painting about tongues of hate
Doug Brinkman, The Painter
listen, enjoy!
Tribute to Virgil Abloh and Dennis Edney
Fashion Designer ( Legacy ) Freedom Fighter
🎨Selfishness often gets a bad rap. It’s branded as greedy, thoughtless, a trait best left on the villain’s shelf. But peel away the stigma, and you’ll find that in art, selfishness can be revolutionary—especially when it’s paired with vision, vulnerability, and integrity. Take the Group of Seven: A.Y. Jackson and Lawren Harris didn’t have their fame handed to them, even though Harris had wealth from the Massey-Harris fortune. They worked hard, committed deeply, and “selfishly” pursued an unshakable idea—that Canadian landscapes deserved their own voice in art.
🎨By rejecting European traditions, they carved out space for a uniquely Canadian aesthetic. Their boundaries weren’t barriers—they were a declaration: We paint what we believe. Contrast that with the Indian Group of Seven (Professional Native Indian Artists Inc.). These artists—Norval Morrisseau, Daphne Odjig, Alex Janvier, and others—had no silver platter, no institutional warmth. What they had was fierce resolve. Their “selfishness” wasn’t about ego—it was survival. They refused to be typecast as cultural artifacts and instead demanded recognition as contemporary creators. They built their own galleries, funded their own shows, and shaped a legacy that fought erasure with artistic defiance.
🎨And then there’s Jack Bush. Trapped in the commercial art world for decades, he suffered anxiety and depression. He longed for a life of emotional honesty—one where colour, not corporate briefs, spoke for him. Inspired by the Group of Seven and later mentored by Clement Greenberg, Bush “selfishly” chose abstraction, ditching safety for soul. His art didn’t chase trends—it chased feeling. And in doing so, it soared internationally.
🎨Art Show & Tell, of a Point of Order, add a little ice cream, my just reward. A young woman, lingering with a tattooed crowd in downtown Edmonton near the library, complimented my artwork. After finishing my rapidly melting ice cream in the 24°C heat, I walked over to her gang to show the backside, titled Disorder. Suddenly, a young man lunged at me. "Get the f*** away from here!" he snapped. Before I could react, the group's matriarch—Mama Tattoo—spoke up. "I like your painting," she said, her voice steady. The young man’s demeanor shifted. He looked at the artwork again, his expression softening. "That's an amazing piece of art," he admitted.
2000-2021, 2013, 2015
9 Afghan Boys Gathering Firewood
2025, Paint a Deer and I Will See
Fred Shadows and King Oil and Lube. I created Fred Shadows over 50 years ago, inspired by the cartoons back in the day like Andy Capp by Reg Smythe, Sad Sack by George Baker, and the anonymous wartime graffiti of Kilroy Was Here. Fred was reborn during my 2021 Abstracts of Light and Shadows art project, and now continues as part of my 2025 Birds of a Feather series, with a focus on Faith (Religion), Democracy (Politics), and Nature (Women).
Fred joins my other cartoon creations and explores the power and the weight of a worrisome planet, in our backyard, within Alberta’s shifting landscape of political, social, and environmental realities. Is that a good dog, a bad dog, a wolf, or a bear—a flooding burning question, shared together, where unity is fragile.
2013-08-10: From 1 - 5:30 pm today, it was my most successful Civil Information Actions in my six years. Friendly Edmonton Folk Festival patrons, volunteers and security appreciated my effort outside the gates with sharing leaflets, and the message by way of art that the wars of 9/11 retribution waged on Afghanistan was wrong, and that rocket launchers kill Afghan kids...
The last person I spoke with was Father Mark, a local priest who told me, keep doing what I was doing with art, "keep up the good work!"
2025-08-11, One Man, One Mission—one that chose brushstrokes over slogans, and canvas over confrontation. The oil painting 9 Afghan Boys Gathering Firewood and its companion acrylic piece Paint a Deer and I Will See, completed on the reverse side this year, became instruments of dialogue, shared with patrons and volunteers at the Edmonton Folk Festival. In 2013, a t-shirt bearing the words Peace Takes Courage was worn outside the festival gates—not as protest, but as invitation. Twelve years later, the XLife shirt returned to the same place, echoing the same message: that fashion and presentation can elevate civil information actions beyond the noise of controversy. Art, when wielded with intention and empathy, becomes diplomacy. It speaks softly but powerfully, reminding us that honey draws more hearts than vinegar ever could. These works did all the heavy lifting—no placards, no chants—just the quiet courage of storytelling through paint. One man, one mission, and a belief that peace, like beautiful art and fashion wear begins with how we choose to show up.