wanted to draw a dog. I sat beside Carlow's kennel and stared at him for a long time. Then I took a charred stick from the grate, split open a large brown-paper sack and drew a dog on the sack.
My married sister who had taken drawing lessons looked at my dog and said, "Not bad." Father spread the drawing on top of his newspaper, put on his spectacles, looked, said, "Um!" Mother said, "You are blacked with charred wood, wash!" The paper sack was found years later amoung Father's papers. He had written on it, "By Emily, aged eight".
Growing Pains by Emily Carr.
Image#: B.C. Archives E-01423
ne night I had a dream of greenery, I never attacked the painting of growing foliage quite the same after that dream I think; growing green had become something different to me.
In my dream I saw a wooded hillside, an ordinary slope such as one might along any Western roadside, tree-covered, normal, no particular pattern or design to catch an artist's eye were he seeking subject-matter. But, in my dream that hillside suddenly lived-weighted with sap, burning green in every leaf, every scrap of it vital!
Woods, that had meant so much to me, from that moment meant just so much more.
Growing Pains by Emily Carr.
Image#: left: B.C. Archives E-01422; right: BCIMS D-06009
tanley Park at that time was just seven miles of virgin forest, three quarters surrounded by sea. Alone, I went there to sketch, loving its still solitudes-no living creature but dog Billie and me, submerged beneath a drown of undergrowth. Above us were gigantic spreads of pines and cedar boughs, no bothersome public, no rubbernoses. Occasional narrow trails wound through bracken and tough salal tangle. Underfoot, rotting logs lay, upholstered deep in moss, bracken, forest wastage. Your feet never knew how deep they would sink.
Growing Pains by Emily Carr.
Image#: B.C. Archives F-07885
Return to Family Album page.
Return to Emily's Home.
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
| Gallery | Tour | Family | Writing | Issues | Team |
