Into the woods to see trees

For quite awhile, I have been fascinated with trees. Trees with no leaves or needles. Trees in the winter. Dead trees. I like to look for the "tree person" that is always there. Call me a nut. I really won't care. I see personalities in the way the branches turn. In the way the trunk knots. In the way some trees try to hold onto that final leaf. Or the way it tries to run away.
I know when this fascination developed. It didn't start when I was young and used to climb trees. It didn't start from living in rural Onterrible. It actually start one Montreal winter morning while waiting for the bus. For those that do not know Montreal, the streets are lined with trees, buses usually stopping under them. It was a beautiful morning, sun not yet up. The blackness of the branches against the low light of the sky. I knew then that I liked trees.
This discovery fuelled a photo frenzy of various trees in Montreal while out for walks. I do not know where those photos are anymore, but I have them in my memory, and in early paintings. Nothing but the nakedness of the branches, so delicately painted. Smooth. The same view repeated in opposing black and white. I still love these paintings even though my painting style has changed from all those years ago. But like changing seasons, so too does my style change until the day it knows it is meant to be. Until then, I shall be applying paint to canvas however I feel like!