So far the collective has snowshoed the frozen lakes of northern Ontario's Algoma region, paddled B.C.'s mystical Queen Charlotte Islands, cross-country skied Quebec's Gaspe Peninsula and circumnavigated the entire island of Newfoundland by land and sea. In fact, few artists since the Group of Seven, the famous Canadian painters who rebelled against European industrial and material ideals 75 years ago to etch an entirely new notion of Canada and its landscape, have ventured as deep into this country's wilderness together to embrace the task of translating the natural world into art. But with one giant breath, this group has blown the dust off the old school of landscape art and brought a contemporary perspective and environmental urgency to the Canadian artistic tradition. Soon after, I found myself eating jarred moose meat and scaling oceanside cliffs in the rain. This quickly confirmed my theory that one can infer a lot about people by the vehicle they drive.
Bungee cords serve as bookshelves and tree branches act as curtain rods and clothing lines.
Wash Your Butt, a cautionary message which keeps the little gold Buddha fastened to the dashboard in a constant state of hysterics. Buddha is here to ensure safe travels, and he holds a near perfect record. When vandals in B.C. set fire to the group's former vehicle, a milk truck named The Cosmic, a cardboard box of the entire trip's artwork miraculously survived As Drawnonward lumbers toward the ferry docks, I sit nervously across the table from Rob, watching him squish black flies into his sketch book. The pages are already crammed with psychedelic renderings of half-dead fish, monsters and collages of Canadian beer labels. Hoping to interrupt his killing spree, I ask him where we are planning on sleeping tonight.