Tag Archives: #words

Painting With Words

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Kill Zoners — It’s my pleasure and privilege to welcome a great guest to our blog. Ed Hill is a prominent Canadian painter and storyteller. He’s a prolific artist and writer who’s guided me as a life mentor and protected me as a police colleague to which I’m forever grateful. Please welcome Ed Hill to the Kill Zone.

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Garry Rodgers and I have been friends for well over 40 years. When he asked me to submit an article for The Kill Zone, I was well aware my thoughts would be read by any number of accomplished novelists. While I consider myself a writer, particularly within the realm of my discipline of being an artist, I could find writing in such company as this, a bit intimidating.

But I don’t. My writing is about emotion, spirit, energy, and a very direct link to my artistic creations in the form of paintings. As I finish a painting, my work is only truly completed when I “paint” the final bit with words.

You see I’m a painter first, and being a writer is but a part of my artistic expression.  A bit of history will help explain. In the mid 1980’s, in the middle of a 34-year Royal Canadian Mounted Police (RCMP) career, my painting journey began. I was taught by an indigenous artist. And as such, much of what I learned was from the indigenous perspective.

It was from those origins that I found the value and reality of writing a story with each painting. A visit to my website www.edhillart.com will show that each image has a story, and that story is as much a part of my painted creation as the painting itself. In fact, whenever I sell a piece of my work, the story is always attached. I tell anyone who owns a piece of my work that unless they know the story of the image, they only have half of my artistic creation.

I suppose a bit of cultural history might be in order here. Within the indigenous culture virtually every painting, sculpture, totem pole, beadwork, or song has a story. Just ask. Within the very natural surroundings that we all live in, the indigenous culture has a story. And so, from the origins of my painting career my indigenous teacher, Roy Henry Vickers, taught by example. Every painting he does is accompanied by a written story.

When I started painting in 1985, I wrote a story with the very first image I created. You’ll find the image of my first painting at my website under the title of “Old Man”. And ever since, every painting I’ve done has a story. Some are emotional. Some are poetic. Some are a protest. And some can even evoke a spiritual connection for the reader.

Old Man by artist Ed Hill

The painting and the very act of creating it dictate what the story will be. Indeed, over the years I’ve written so many stories that they could be compiled and published as book themselves. Some people in fact have told me that they have used my website as a “book” while they’ve taken the time to view the paintings and read the hundreds of stories attached.

As I have taught my painting techniques to many artists over the years, I’ve always touted the value of composing a story to be a part of their painting I’d be generous in saying that perhaps 5% of my students practice that teaching. So many find it hard to express their thoughts and emotions.

As any of you reading this article know, it takes discipline to sit down and write. Not everybody has the commitment, energy, creativity or that unique and special discipline to be a writer. As the old saying goes, “If it was easy, everybody would be doing it.”

As writers, I know you write from experience, but you also create from emotion, from a place of energy and creativity. You write from an inner need to get it out there. When that writer within has a story to tell, your inner muse is always calling to you. And so it is with me as an artist.

When I have a painting in progress, I often tell my wife as we are away from my painting, that I can “hear it calling to me”. And therein lies the story. You see, for me, the story develops and reveals itself as I paint. Seldom do I paint an image with the title and story realized ahead of time. In the many hours of painting, lost in the Zen of creativity, I let my brain wander. I may be painting an image I’ve seen for decades, yet now I have chosen to paint it.

Why?

Why now?

That’s when the story begins to whisper. And as I paint and compose the image, so too the words of my story flood my brain. Hard to explain, the story comes in an inspirational, creative, and even a “spiritual” surge from within. I’m not overstating that. The story comes from the very spot within me that the painting comes from.  It’s a part of my artistic creation. When composing my story, as I write, I paint with a palette of words.

Sometimes the title is evident almost immediately. Other times, only as the paint dries and the words of my story turn into sentences does the title take shape.  And when it does, the title in particular is compelling. It must be.

Titles such as “Get Over It”, or “Covid Blue” are good examples of that. To understand those titles, you have to read the story. And when you read the story, you’ll then refer back to the painting. The energy of that loop is complete.

Covid Blue by artist Ed Hill

Get Over It by artist Ed Hill

The image is the very first contact anyone usually has with my creative expression, but the title is what turns their gaze to the story. And I’ve watched from afar at shows where someone will study my painting, turn to the story, then back to the image with their eyes opened to the very intention and spirit of the painting. And speaking commercially, quite often it’s the story that connects the viewer to the image, and that results in a sale.

Often, I can sit in my home with a coffee and just revisit the many paintings I have hanging on my walls. I’m always taken back as to the “why” of a particular painting. I marvel at the very creation, and many times realize I could never do that painting as well were I to try it again. That painting was a product of a moment in time, a moment charged with circumstance, serendipity, and emotion.

I “use” my paintings a lot for that purpose. I find a soothing comfort in just revisiting them and savouring the colour, composition, light and dark, and very presence of the image itself. But so too, I will read the story attached just as often. Those words painted into the composition of the story have an everlasting energy. It’s an energy that never grows old.

My family have instructions. When and if my time comes to be in a bed someday as I approach the end of my life’s journey, they’re to read to me. They’re to read those stories of emotion, spirituality, and creativity. For those are the touchstones of my life.

I know those words, even if my eyes are closed to the paintings themselves. I know too that those words will resonate with a positive energy that’ll have some meaning and comfort to me. When the lights do inevitably go out, it’s those words that I want to take with me.

I close these thoughts by referring the reader to one of my paintings titled “Forever”. I think the story of “Forever” applies to my written words. And so too to yours. Created with our energy and inspiration—as writers—our words will long outlive all of us. They are FOREVER.

Forever by artist Ed Hill

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Bio — Born in Paris, Ontario in 1948 and later moving to Peterborough, Ed Hill’s journey to becoming a distinguished artist began in earnest after a career in the Royal Canadian Mounted Police, which he joined at age 20. His artistic ambitions, which had been a mere dream since his high school days, began to crystallize in the mid-1980s after moving to Tofino, British Columbia, and meeting the renowned artist Roy Henry Vickers.

Under Vickers’ mentorship, Hill honed his skills and developed a distinctive style, producing his first notable work, “Old Man.” His art, deeply inspired by the landscapes of British Columbia, seeks to evoke the profound emotions tied to the region’s natural beauty.

Now retired and living in Gibsons, British Columbia, with his wife Joy, Hill continues to explore and depict the “West Coast” essence, aiming to capture the moments where nature and the observer’s inner world harmoniously align, hoping his viewers anywhere can feel the unique “music” of British Columbia’s landscapes through his work. Visit www.edhillart.com.

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Kill Zoners — Painting with words. How does this resonate with you? Do you “see” your writing as it’s imagined and unfolds? Could you captivate your story in one image as Ed does with his? Let’s discuss, and please share how you paint with words.

When the Cows Come Home to Roost

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Rita, my wife, manages cashiers at a mad-dog, inner-city supermarket where going bananas from loose cannons is the norm. “It’s like herding cats,” Rita says about her staff, although she knows every cloud has a silver lining, and Rita says, “I also fight an uphill battle with bat-crap crazy and cold-as-ice customers who drive me nuts.”

At the end of the other day, Rita came home and vented—as usual. I’m her sounding board, but I have selective hearing so often, with me, it’s beating a dead horse. Rita went on to tell me about this, that, and other things going on in her shift.

Then she asked, “Ever hear, ‘When the cows come home to roost’?”

I looked up, smiled, and replied, “No. But it’s a clever play on clichés. Where’d you hear that?”

“A regular customer and I got in a Covid conversation. He’s sick of the mask thing. The double vax and now the third. And Stop! Show me yuh papuhs, as if we’re in Nazi Germany. So am I. Then he says, ‘Well, at the end of the day, when the cows come home to roost, catching Covid boils down to this. You’ll live happily ever after or you’ll give up the ghost.’”

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Rita’s regular customer got me thinking about clichés.

Growing up in small-town Manitoba, Canada, was cliché emersion. I could go on and on with local cliché examples like “Pissed as a nit, liquored as Larry the Lizard, and drunk as a skunk”. Life in the fast lane was, back then, alcohol-fueled.

How often do we say clichés in daily conversation? How often do we write them—subconsciously—into our WIP and fail to recognize these easy-as-pie, easy-peisie, sneaky snips of syntax? How often do we miss clichés only to catch a few in the nick of time before we hit the publish button that can bring the perfect storm—that can of worms—of bad, bad reviews?

I did a little Googling on clichés. The Wonderful World of Wiki had this to say:

A cliché is a French loanword expressing an element of an artistic work, saying, or idea that has become overused to the point of losing its original meaning or effect, even to the point of being trite or irritating, especially when at some earlier time it was considered meaningful or novel. In phraseology, the term has taken on a more technical meaning, referring to an expression imposed by conventionalized linguistic usage.

The term is often used in modern culture for an action or idea that is expected or predictable, based on a prior event. Typically pejorative, “clichés” may or may not be true. Some are stereotypes, but some are simply truisms and facts. Clichés often are employed for comedic effect, typically in fiction.

Most phrases now considered clichéd originally were regarded as striking but have lost their force through overuse. The French poet Gérard de Nerval once said, “The first man who compared woman to a rose was a poet, the second, an imbecile.”

A cliché is often a vivid depiction of an abstraction that relies upon analogy or exaggeration for effect, often drawn from everyday experience. Used sparingly, it may succeed, but the use of a cliché in writing, speech, or argument is generally considered a mark of inexperience or a lack of originality. 

When I think of clichés, I often grin at how badly sports stars cliché in their media interviews. Take the golfer, “Yeah, just gotta keep the head down, eyes off the leaderboard, stick to the process, and let the putts drop.” Or the hockey player, “We gotta bring our A-game, give it a hundred ten percent, keep the other team on the boards, and get pucks to the net.”

But what about us common-place writers? How regularly do clichés slip into our WIP and how hack-like does that make us sound? Writing gurus say using clichés shows a lack of original thought, makes us appear unimaginative, and unmask a lazy writer.

I did a little more Googling and found some defense for clichés. One article said it was okay to use clichés when you’re trying to sync with a readership and use familiar phrases like back in the day for Boomers and the struggle is real for Millennials.

The article also said clichés were great to simplify things like explaining beginner concepts. It dropped an example of writing a how-to guide for expectant mothers. In this case remember, you’re eating for two was okay.

And the piece I found suggested clichés were fine, if not expected for dialogue and characterization. A fiction writer might use clichés to show a character’s sophistication level or their sense of humor. I’m wondering how when the cows come home to roost fits in with sophistication and humor. (Rita said the guy seemed dead-serious about it.)

I think we’re all somewhat guilty of dropping clichés. I know I am. Thankfully I have Grammarly Premium that tracks and highlights common clichés. You know, stuff like:

“The wrong side of the bed.”
“Think outside the box.”
“What goes around comes around.”
“Dead as a doornail.”
“Plenty of fish in the sea.”
“Ignorance is bliss.”
“Like a kid in a candy store.”
“You can’t judge a book by its cover.”
“Take the tiger by the tail.”
“Every rose has its thorn.”
“Good things come to those who wait.”
“If only walls could talk.”
“The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.”
“The pot calling the kettle black.”
“The grass is always greener on the other side.”

My cliché article gave a bit of helpful advice on avoiding clichés:

  1. Think about the meaning of the cliché. Use a dictionary to identify synonyms that could replace the word or phrase that is cliché.
  2. Decide whether or not you need to include the cliché. Often, clichés are unnecessary placeholders in writing and can be deleted.
  3. Rewrite the sentence with new words in place of the cliché. For example, if you’re describing a musical with the cliché “comes full circle,” the description could be changed to say that the musical “returned to the themes with which it started.”

My last Google cliché search rabbit-holed me into the mother-of-all cliché pieces. It’s a great site that I’ve never stumbled on before called Be A Better Writer which I’d certainly like to be. However, this article’s well was just a little too deep for me. It’s called 681Cliches to Avoid in Your Creative Writing.

How about you Kill Zoners? On a scale of 1 – 10 (1 being cliché free and 10 being cliché down & dirty), how guilty are you of letting clichés slip into your work? And is there a time when it’s okay to use clichés? Oh, and can you make up a better cliché phrase than when the cows come home to roost?

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Garry Rodgers is a retired homicide detective with a second career as a coroner—pretty much Doctor Death for over thirty years. Now, Garry is a caped crime writer who fights villainous words rather than crafty crooks and deadly stiffs.

Check out books by Garry Rodgers on his website at DyingWords.net. You can also follow his bi-weekly blogs by hitching onto his mailing list and make sure you connect with him on Twitter @GarryRodgers1.

Reader Friday: Describe Your Writing with Kangaroos

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Describe your writing and/or your reading life using a Kangaroo word.

Technically, a kangaroo word carries its own synonym within it (called a joey word), but I don’t know how else to describe this game. Bonus points if you do!

 

 

Fill in the blanks:

My writing puts the ____ in _______. My reading life puts the _____ in ___________.

To get the ball rolling, I’ll start.

My writing puts the sass in assassin, the laughter in slaughter. My reading life puts the fun in funeral.

Your turn!