Keira McArthur

Three things that are good: 1 the cast iron legs are back on the black studio table that david sereda gave me ten years ago (what is IN that heavy heavy thing, ds?), 2. I have a new kettle and all the equipment to french press the coffee that fuels my morning write, and 3. […]

Yesterday I slipped on the bottom step and landed in a puddle. Full soaker from my lower back to my knees but the books and laptop were fine; I kept going to the car, to the studio, to the cello, to the paintings then to catered ramen for lunch, which turned my day back in […]

The overwhelm subsides into a kind of rhythm as I begin to understand what my new job is; what feels unfamiliar but is actually okay. As the illusion clears – of pitfalls and boobytraps at every misstep – I can see that the floor I walk on every day is sturdy, reliable… and beautiful. The […]

My new middle name is Curiosity.  Like a little kid, mouth open: wow. huh? how come? really? Wow, really. Who? Strangely, it feels like I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be, living my brand new daily life in an arts hub in the old rather broken, semi-forgotten industrial sector of this big city where my […]

Wasn’t expecting a day of psychological paralysis after I moved in to the apartment-for-January. All I could see was a massive knot of project-and-task-ropes too tight to unravel – there behind a thick glass wall. I was not feeling intrepid, in any way. More like a five-year-old left behind in a huge unfamiliar city with some gummy bears […]

All ten portraits but one large one, spoken for. Incredible, since the Portraits Project arose out of the Hamilton Arts Council’s Cotton Factory Residency offer, announced only eight weeks ago. In the meantime, seven gigs in three different cities, 3,000 km and six different family Christmas gatherings. In the most recent meantime, Westley the Bernese […]

Why so complicated? The only movement is a slow floating down and slightly to the right, here in the woods. The only sound the crunch of snow underfoot, and the dog’s open-mouthed breathing. He finds deer tracks from earlier today, I find the mother tree – five feet wide at the trunk, strong, healthy arms […]

Third day is a charm. The first two have been about moving in, setting up, getting my bearings – where does the paint go, need a bookshelf, is there room for the sewing machine, where the heck is the gel bucket and why on earth did I bring a guitar … This circus of a […]

From two Artist’s talks given on November 24th in Owen Sound Ontario, about my upcoming collaborative portrait work. I feel a need to establish some background, to support the foreground of this talk… I remember staring at the flower in our Dundas garden for a long time before I drew it. Mom asked me later […]

‘If your residency application is successful, what do you plan to work on‘ … over the ninety days you’ll share a large studio with another working artist, in a building full of artists and arts workers, in old industrial Hamilton, Ontario? ‘Well,’ say I to me, while writing said application, ‘what have we never tried […]

It took this tree about 100 years to grow and I’m burning it, piece by piece, in four months. It was the one mature tree I cut down to make room for this cabin – a twinned birch, now half gone. Every time I put a new log on the fire I’m aware of this […]

The lake is gentle again. I’m back home after a week of travel, grateful to be working outside on the upper deck where I can drink in this soft shore-song; I’d expected snow, but it was quiet rain instead, as hushed as I am, in this memory of warmth. I write solstice songs, work out […]