My adventure into art began during the late 1950's, while I was working in Ottawa as a draughtsman for the Department of National Defense. During my lunch hour, I became a frequent visitor at the Lorne Building that housed the National Gallery of Canada. This is where I first saw the paintings of Lawren Harris.

  When I first viewed his Arctic paintings I could feel a chill in the room, I decided then and there that there was much more to painting than just creating pretty pictures.

  During this period, I often frequented several coffeehouses in Ottawa, listening to the folk singers and meeting other art conscious people, such as Barry Lord whom I shared an apartment with. Our rooms seemed to have a constant flow of artists and musicians.

I began oil painting.

  I quit my job in Ottawa and moved to what was soon to become the fashionable Yorkville area in Toronto. For a short time I stayed with friends Don and Sandra Arioli, going to plays, museums and painting.

  Often I would hitchhike around the country searching for a purpose. It was during this period, I met my wife. I was picking fruit in Niagara to get a little money before moving on and Rita was working in the adjoining canning factory . She was curious about the nomadic lifestyle I was living at the time and asked to travel with me for a while, but she did not like my name and decided to call me Sandy. Forty four years later we are still traveling together.

  Several artists sharing an apartment seemed a good way to survive. So, Malcolm Batty, Howie Fryer, Davia, Rita, Anne and I shared the lower half of a house on Lowther Street in the annex near the Yorkville scene.

  My success in painting was slight. To earn enough money to live and keep on painting, I began carving objects out of wood, and selling them to the tourists that frequented the coffeehouses.

  Malcolm convinced me that I was a better carver then a painter and encouraged me to carve larger pieces, so I turned my talents back to carving.

  I do not think of this period as a "starving artist", I remember times when if one of our circle of artists sold a piece, it meant we all ate.

  We were having too much fun, enjoying life, to think about starving, there was always a job somewhere and one could always make a bit of money somehow. Even today There are still jobs around, but they don't pay as much as people would like.

  Because of my previous experiences and knowledge of geology, I feel there was a natural progression to stone.

  My discovery of the books and sculpture of Malvina Hoffman completely changed my vision of carving. " She taught me to see the life force in the stone that determines the direction the stone allows itself to be formed. I must respect and admire the stone, working with it to develop its inner beauty. I try to bring out the feeling and motion of the sculpture within the stone. In my mind I see stone eagles suspended in air despite the laws of physics."

  Hard work and long hours are what kept my sculpture alive. A usual day was divided into eight hours sleeping, eight working and eight carving. There were several times I was tempted to quit, but friends and other artists like Joan Howatson inspired me to continue, until sculpture became my full-time profession.

  There is a point where everything comes together in your head and your hands. There is no way of telling when you get to that point - it just clicks. Yesterday no one liked what you were doing, and today it is highly valued and accepted.

  I am very critical of my own work, even after thirty five years as a professional sculptor. My wife, Rita told me that I am an excellent sculptor, but I have no taste.

  Although my studio is in the wilds of Burleigh, Ontario, Canada, I feel that the world is at my fingertips. Over the past thirty five years, my work has traveled to almost every country in the world.

  I have been teaching at the Haliburton School of Fine Arts for the past seventeen years. I have acquired many of the techniques I use on my own by trial and error, so I feel I should pass the knowledge along.

  "Each piece I make is a statement, I feel I am leaving little pieces of me and how I feel embedded in the sculpture." he says, his animated voice suddenly becoming serious. "You have to learn to work with the stone, if you try to force it into something it doesn't want to be, it will break. Eventually, you become part of the sculpture, and you can feel if it is right."

"Knowing there is an living aspect to every piece of art, the artist has a special relationship with the objects he creates."