Scorned Timber

Since moving back home to Pemberton in 2013, I have been committed to creating a reputation as a photographer of people, of celebrations, smiles and memories. I’m a people person, and I can’t wait to share some of these moments with you in the future.

But do you want to know a secret? Landscapes are my ultimate guilty pleasure. I would never call myself a landscape photographer, but about three quarters of my photography portfolio for my university application were of landscapes. I spent two years before that, painting landscapes at Capilano College (we’re talking pretty basic though). I also realized the other day, that the only photographs I end up printing, are landscapes. So I feel it is suiting to share with you, as my first post, a landscape photograph that I’ve kept to myself.

Amie Leblanc July 23 2016

I was photographing heavy duty machinery down the Lillooet Lake Road last spring – rolling around in the mud and climbing fallen logs.

I got my shot, and decided to take a stroll down the road to wait for my ride back to civilization (thanks Gord!).

I saw this single tree left to stand in the debris of clearcut forest.

It looked just like an Emily Carr painting to me. In fact, almost exactly like my favourite painting of hers, Scorned Timber.

scorned

Emily Carr has been my favourite painter since I began my journey into the world of art – and I could not resist having my very own version (not to mention, of a forest that my own father had logged).

Trees are special; they emit oxygen out into the air for us to breathe, use their roots to secure the earth from crumbling down, and when the time comes, provide a sustainable resource (and income) for people.

I have always loved how Emily Carr included the beauty of western landscape, without trying to hide the presence of man and civilization. I never interpreted it as criticism, but as clean observation – a trait that I hope to refine in my own work.

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