Canoe trips and a journey of inner strength
Former camper also found inspiration for his art
An arctic char lies on the sand beside an old canoe, a small steak carved from its side sizzling in a pan over the fire.
I haven’t been to camp in more than a decade, but this surrealist canvas, painted by my favourite camper, hangs in my living room and reminds me of the canoe trips we paddled together. Beyond nostalgic trappings of youthful adventure, the work of art carries deeper significance.
It’s a snapshot of a moment when honest work led to a deserved reward — and in this way it’s not just a memory, but a constant reminder that life’s challenges can be overcome.
“Going out every summer, getting out of the city lifestyle and living a completely different way, looking back, it was really what I needed to get through,” said Graham Robinson, 29, when we caught up at his studio recently. “I’m already a tense person. I would be a nervous wreck if I hadn’t had those experiences.”
Anyone who has carried a canoe more than 100 metres will attest that camping isn’t all loon calls and magenta sunsets. Clouds of black flies, torrential downpours and blisters are hardships that make serenity more fulfilling.
The satisfaction of catching a fish and cooking it up is just one of those evocative moments captured in Robinson’s art, which was almost lost after he quit painting and fell into a cycle of drinking and self-doubt.
Now images of paddles, packs and portages appear almost weekly on his Facebook page. They’re part of a series called “dry” that has helped Robinson tap back into the inner strength he found on the wilderness journeys we shared and overcome his addiction to alcohol.
It’s been two years since he picked up his brushes again, and he recently celebrated the first anniversary of his last drink.
Like many who were privileged enough to go to camp, I often say I wouldn’t be the person I am today without those formative experiences. But in a society where mental health and addiction are becoming less taboo, the thought bears repetition: Character forged in the wilderness will help anyone throughout life.
For almost a century, the Star’s Fresh Air Fund has been sending kids into the woods who wouldn’t otherwise have the chance. That week or two in the wilderness could very well change their lives — it did for Robinson.
“Canoe trip is how I see personal growth. It’s a kind of journey. It’s something that’s not really ever done. You just keep moving,” he said. I spent 13 summers at Camp Wanapitei and led Robinson on canoe trips ranging from eight to 24 days. We paddled in Temagami, down the Dumoine River and all the way to Waskaganish at the end of the Rupert River on James Bay.
“I was forced to go my first year,” Robinson said. “My mum just said: ‘You’re going to summer camp.’ I thought it sucked, but when I got home all I wanted to do next summer was go back again.” The Graham I knew back then was a precocious teen with a wicked laugh. He was the loudest kid on the trip and gave every appearance of being totally comfortable in our group.
But he wasn’t the same person back at home. Little did I know, but the rest of the year he was plagued by social anxiety and felt overwhelming pressure to fit in.
“I felt like I was supposed to be a certain way. Even if I didn’t feel like it, I felt like I had to be emotionally distant, arrogant, aggressive,” he said.
After high school, Robinson went to Sheridan College in Oakville, where things got worse. He started drinking too much and not getting any work done. After three fraught years, he dropped out and started working Joe jobs at pet shops and cheap restaurants. He transferred to OCAD in Toronto in an attempt to get painting again, but it didn’t work and before long he had dropped out for good and was drinking every day.
Fate interceded in the form of his little brother, Callum, who confronted him about his behaviour in a way that triggered something inside.
“He said: ‘You’re a f-----g alcoholic,’” Robinson said. “It hurt. He knew me so well. He could see that something was so wrong. He felt betrayed because he used to look up to me.”
Robinson started attending AA meetings, but found them “culty” and turned back to his long-neglected art.
“I knew I had to keep busy. Once I got into a painting, I couldn’t stop. I got to experience flow: just really zoning out and experiencing creation.”
Without paying much attention to it, he conjured images of camp — the fish, fires and friends of his youth.
“I used to think it was lame. But it’s a huge source of inspiration. It’s a huge reference for me to look back on and build on.”
Robinson sees the metaphor of canoe trip in his subsequent journey. “People can encourage you to stop drinking, but you’re really on your own. It’s like that on trip,” he said.
On a portage, you suffer, he said. You think you can’t go on and throw the boat down. But then you sit for a while looking at it. And before long, you pick it back up and push on.
“You’re in a group, but you’re not getting carried the whole way. You have to do your part. People need you.”
Finding appreciation for that combination of self-reliance and being part of a team has helped Robinson get over his troubles.
“I had a lot of that mental strength to push myself further. It’s frustrating to think that I lost it for a while. But I got it back. It wasn’t gone. I convinced myself I had lost it, but when I went looking for it, it was still there.” www.grahamrobinsonart.com Graham Robinson’s work will be on display at Northern Contemporary Gallery, 1266 Queen St W, July 23-31.