Upon reviewing pictures I had taken of this herd of Holsteins, this particular cows’ expression caught my eye. The fact she had horns was fairly unusual and it created a unique set of shadows on her face.

I start with a canvas that has a thin wash of burnt sienna or umber applied so I am not painting directly on a white surface. After a drawing a rough pencil sketch I rework the image with the same browns thinned down to define the image.

I often block in darker shaded areas as I am working on the image, and then start blocking in areas of colour. During this time I am trying to ensure the proportions and angles are correct. As I work in oils I can go back to areas and still blend colours.

As I start to apply the colours in the painting I do not thin down the paint. Oils are fairly opaque and I tend to get ample coverage in the first coat. The paint I used to define the image is still wet, and will often blend with the colours being applied.

The image, with all the colours blocked in, highlights and shadows well defined. This is technically what I would refer to as my first coat, usually done in one sitting. I will then go back and rework areas to create more detail. However with this particular painting it was purchased “as is” before I could “finish it” and I was specifically asked not to touch it !!!

This is another painting I did of the same cow, but I continued to paint it in the traditional manor in which I do most of my work, with much more added detail than the previous roughed in image.

I am drawn to my ewes’ soft expressions. I am drawn to winter scenes when the falling snow covers their fleece with thick white blankets.

I love the expressive quality that holsteins have, their huge big eyes, and the beautiful colours in the gleaming black coats.

This large almost monochromatic oil painting is a study of a Charolais cow, Cattle often have a very passive aggressive expression, very engaging.

A tranquil holstein cow, people ask if it is hard to paint animals who are all black, but there are so many subtle shades of blues and purples and reds.

A trip to Yellowstone Park inspired this painting The park itself is a wonderland, and the wildlife was incredible. The majesty and presence of the bison bulls was breathtaking.

Sasha, the donkey filly with her mom, Natasha

Sasha is a saucy little donkey filly born last spring here. My donkey trio are constant forms of both entertainment and frustration.

Walking down to do evening chores in late March, I was taken with the shadows the rail fence was throwing on the receding snowdrifts in the barnyard. The livestock were waiting impatiently to be fed, and Moguley the cat was sitting in the doorway, catching the last of the warmth from the fading spring sun.

An unexpected evening drive at the end of a hot summer day rewarded me with this striking image of a Holstein cooling down in the water, her reflection gently distorted by her slightest movement. I crawled under electric fence and stumbled across the field in flip flops to get some grainy images with my iphone. Am ever so glad I did.

A herd of Murray Gray cattle seeking shelter in a hedgerow from the summer heat. The sun is covering their backs with dapples as the trees move gently in the breeze.

A Holstein wades quietly into a pond on a late fall morning. I was captivated by the sunlight reflecting off her belly and her reflection rippling in the water.

I was speaking one day with a gallery owner who told me the story of a customer who was quite taken with my work, “especially her paintings of sunflowers” she insisted. As I had never painted a sunflower before I told the owner I would do a number of paintings and call them my “Sunflower Series”. As close as I have come to painting a flower.

Winnie is the 4H Hereford calf of a family friends son.

My two Murray gray cows, contemplating whether to stay out or head back to the barn for shelter. I am fortunate to live on a hill, and the distant trees and hills create soft layers of grayish green in the falling snow.

Maggie may was named after a friend of mine, her mother was one of the original team of Clydesdales I owned, and still have. Maggie was born and raised on the farm, and thinks she should have been a show jumper. Or at least that’s the feeling I get as I watch her clear my rail fences to get to the grass that is always greener on the other side.

One of my favourite paintings, this is May, my first Clyde solemnly walking across a snow covered field. Her massive hooves shovel paths in the powdery snow, her head down in the wind, as the snow drapes a blanket of white across her back.

It is said that, unlike cattle who face into an oncoming storm, horses stand with their backs to the wind. These three mares prefer to stand outside in the snow, even with the open door to the barn inviting them to come inside.

This pastel is of Cappuccino, my sons pet rabbit. Cappy as he was commonly known lived under the hay in the lean to and was out sunning himself against the stone foundation wall of the barn on a sunny spring morning.

A field on Charolais cattle lined up at fence as I approached for a picture. They weren’t quite sure whether to charge or to run.