My work involves multidisciplinary art projects that explore landscape, memory, history, and place through painting, narrative writing, and research. Many of my projects unfold through self-directed residencies or immersive, field-based exploration, often including large-scale paintings, watercolour studies, photography, journaling, and reflective writing. I’m especially interested in how personal experience, land, and histories—often ones I hadn’t expected or planned to focus on—have shaped my work.
I’ve often asked myself—or others ask me—how I started creating these kinds of projects. Not all the art I make becomes a “project,” but sometimes something ignites a deeper creative impulse that drives me to create a more comprehensive body of work. I think this was planted early on. Growing up, I watched my mother complete in-depth projects involving journaling, photography, and painting to document her travels. I was very young and found it inspiring, and she did some pretty cool stuff. But I also remember how seriously she approached it—and how meaningful it felt. Over time, I adapted what I saw her do in ways that shaped my work into something uniquely my own.
Looking back now, I realize those early experiences helped me understand the value of creative documentation and how, sometimes an art project may take years before its true impact is fully understood.
Painting is at the core of my creative expression, but my projects go beyond the canvas.
Shelley Leach
Between July 29th & August 5th, 2025 I joined 20 other talented Artists for (DRAW) - Dumoine River Art for Wilderness hosted annually by CPAWS -OV ( The Canadian Parks and Wilderness Society - Ottawa Valley). A annual Artist Residency est. in 2017. Since the completion of my Project in 2012 it has been the first time I've been able to attend and I look forward to sharing this inspiring "Return to Dumoine" with you. The photo featured was taken from our camp as we spent 8 days in the Dumoine Wilderness.
Click on the image to read more...
In 2008, I embarked on a journey to artistically document the natural beauty of the Dumoine River, located in western Quebec, Canada. Inspired by a conversation at a friend’s camp in the Lac Laforge area of Dumoine. I decided to paint my way down the Dumoine River. ( starting from the top of the river at Lac Brûlart). It seems a lot of my projects start this way. It didn't go exactly as I envisioned on that day. Click on the picture to read more... ( the poster image is the first painting I completed from this project. The rapids at Lac Brûlart)
Shelley Leach © 2025
Day 1 – Arrival (July 29th)
We met in Swisha on July 29th. Officially, it’s called Rapides-des-Joachims—a small municipality and village in western Quebec, part of Pontiac County in the Outaouais region. The village sits right on the Ottawa River, about 20 minutes from Deep River, Ontario.
While Swisha is part of Quebec, it’s not connected to the rest of the province by any paved road. To get there, you have to come through Ontario—via Deep River and Rolphton—then cross the Ottawa River. Officially, Swisha is in Quebec, but in some ways, it’s a place apart.
From here, we entered the ZECs.
There are two in this region—ZEC Rapides-des-Joachims, which surrounds the village, and ZEC Dumoine, which covers the remote Dumoine River watershed where we’d be based for the residency. For those not familiar with a ZEC (Zone d’Exploitation Contrôlée) is a type of controlled-use public land found mostly in Quebec. Unlike a national or provincial park, a ZEC is managed not just for conservation, but also for sustainable resource use. That means people can fish, hunt, camp, and enjoy outdoor activities—but under strict rules designed to protect the environment and maintain wildlife populations.
Once you enter the ZEC, it’s a shift into wild country. The roads start out like your typical cottage access road, but gradually get more rugged—deeply rutted, rock-strewn, and unpredictable. For me, having spent so many years living in these kinds of areas, it weirdly felt like being back home. The farther you go, the more you start to feel like even 20 km/h is speeding and loosing something off your vehicle is highly probable if you go much faster. It’s rough. A high-clearance 4x4 is pretty much required—or a vehicle you’re not too attached to driving ever again.
We had one shuttle van and a few higher-clearance vehicles in our little convoy about 20 of us packed into 4 vehicles. When we arrived at the drop-off point, we unloaded our gear—it was a lot. As artists, we each brought our own kind of baggage plus the basics: tents, coolers, food, canoes, kayaks, and all the stuff you really need. The creative clutter of people getting ready to live and create—in an inspiring landscape.
But we weren’t there yet. The road could only take us so far. Now we had to load everything into canoes to get it across the Dumoine River to our camp for the week . Upon arrival first on the agenda, set up our tents, get to know everyone as very few of us had ever met before, dinner and campfire and get ready for our first full day on the Dumoine.
Day 2 – Sunrise and a Morning Paddle with Aleta Karstad ( July 30th)
We awoke to a truly mesmerizing sunrise on our first full day at camp. I love the quietness of morning; for me, it’s often the most inspiring time of day, setting the tone for everything that follows. On this day the slow reveal of colour, and the reflection off the river set the tone for a tranquil, introspective start. It was one of those scenes that doesn’t just inspire art—it reminds me why I create at all. Some of my highlights from day two...
After breakfast, I set out in a canoe with Aleta Karstad, a longtime DRAW participant and one of the original artists involved in the residency. This was our first time meeting. Aleta is a highly respected plein air painter, naturalist, and author—her work beautifully blends art and ecology, and she has spent over four decades documenting Canadian landscapes with extraordinary care, sensitivity, and detail.
As we paddled, I felt both humbled and connected. While Aleta and I each have our own voice and approach, we share a similar way of engaging with the landscape—observing, absorbing, understanding—before we begin to create. It felt like we were speaking the same language.
Aleta’s knowledge of the natural world—both the minute and the monumental—is remarkable. But what resonated most was her quiet attentiveness: the way she moves through the landscape fully present, curious, and engaged. As someone who spent my youth with a mother who similarly explored and taught me to read the land, this wasn’t just inspiring—it felt familiar. There was a clear, unspoken understanding about what it means to witness a place through art.
We drifted slowly along the shoreline, eventually letting ourselves float into a barge of driftwood. We seemed to gravitate toward the same details and shared an ease in how we noticed things—a certain bend in the branches, light on the water, and a hummingbird that sat quietly on a tree branch while we rested along shore. We talked about our work, our experiences, and how art serves as both a response and a responsibility.
That morning paddle wasn’t just peaceful—it was grounding. It reminded me that our values are closely aligned, and that this residency isn’t only about making work in a remote place. It’s a creative exploration—a chance to connect, to reflect, and to renew our commitment to place-based practice.
We returned to camp in the early afternoon, ready for whatever would come next.
Day 3 & 4 Planes & Rapids, with Bryan Raymond ( July 31st & Aug 1st)
Day 3 I stayed around camp—swam in the river, and worked on a couple of small watercolour sketches. I didn’t keep a detailed journal that day, but it felt good to just be in the place without needing to go far. We also had the opportunity to engage with Tamara King from Wolf Lake First Nation (WLFN). Tamara is a knowledge-keeper from WLFN who works with CPAWS-OV, she is also an artist and padder. The Dumoine watershed is the traditional territory of Wolf Lake First Nation. She explained to us the history of Wolf Lake First Nation and the Dumoine Watershed, she also talked about what life is like for the community today.
Tamara led us in a Indigenous beading workshop, which I thoroughly enjoyed. My first time beading.
In the afternoon, we had a surprise flyover—two Canadian Forces planes, a passed over camp at a very low altitude. Definitely training, but still an exciting highlight. I was pretty excited to see them. It’s not the first time I’ve had a sighting like that on the Dumoine. Back on one of my earlier trips between 2008 and 2012, I had a similar flyover experience.
The next morning, August 1st, I headed out early with Bryan Raymond. Fog was still lifting off the river when we left camp, and we paddled up to a small set of rapids close by. The mist rising off the water created these swirling patterns—like little whirlwinds—and we were both completely drawn in by the atmosphere. The light, the quiet, the movement of the fog—it was a moment I won’t forget.
When we reached the rapids, we weren’t totally sure how to get where we wanted to go. There was a big rock in the middle of the rapids that we were aiming for, but the shoreline—we didn’t think was passable. It was slippery, packed with driftwood. So we decided to bushwhack.
There was no trail—just a steep slope and what I call the “scratchy trees.” Mostly black spruce, many of them hit by spruce budworm. The trees are thin and brittle and super grabby—catching on everything. We took our time making it to the rapids. We carefully made our way through the bush, climbing over fallen trees in no particular order, trying not to trip or slide down the hill—probably about a 40-foot drop/ or roll more likely into the river below. The footing was awkward, and the scratchy trees made sure we didn’t get through unmarked. Eventually, we made it to right in the middle of the rapids.
We arrived at the rock and set our artist stuff down. Bryan is an amazing plein air painter and was set up in minutes. Me? Well, I’m more the type to look around, explore a little, take some photos, and study the area. We each had an apple and some water, and Bryan got right to painting. I was like, “Wow, are you kidding me?” I was memorized by how fast he could capture a scene and put it to canvas. Bryan is originally from the area and we had a lot in common and spent most of our time taking about our own lives living in these remote areas.
After a bit, I took some photos and then sat down on the rocks with my feet in the moving water. I did a little watercolour sketch, deciding what I was going to paint for my first larger piece. By early afternoon it was starting to get pretty warm, so we decided to head back to camp.
This time, we didn’t go back the same way—well, there was no trail, so it wasn’t exactly a “way.” We scaled across a fallen log, which shortened our route back to the canoe. I have to admit, I was a bit nervous. I was sure I would have been impaled on a branch if I slipped, but somehow I made it across. It might not sound like fun to everyone—but for me, it absolutely was the kind of experience I was there for. The Dumoine Wilderness is truly that ' Wilderness' with few, if any, marked trails. Trusting who you're with, and trusting your own instincts, becomes essential. There’s no signage, no cell service just raw landscape, shared effort, and a sense of presence, it’s real, untamed nature. I did one small watercolour sketch on location and started a larger 16 x 20 of the same area back at camp.
Days 5–8 – The Flow of Camp Life with 20 Artists
The last few days on the river seemed to blend together in the best way slow mornings, warm afternoons, and the steady flow of camp life with 20 artists and creatives.
The days were filled with swimming, canoeing, hikes, etc.. there was no structure to the week just free to creatively explore. Everyone just seemed to always be doing something, exploring the river, hiking nearby trails or discovering new possible trails, or just simply soaking in the surroundings.
I found myself visiting Black Bear Beach several times over the last few days, a short distance from camp by trail or canoe. Along the way is a natural spring tucked into the shoreline, where we filled our water jugs each day. Cold, clean, and constant, it became part of our daily routine, grounding in a very real way. Black Bear Beach got its name after someone spotted a bear there the year before which, honestly, seems like a solid reason.
I’d spend time there now and then, walking the shoreline and collecting driftwood, letting the river and its surrounding landscape quietly feed my creativity. I also got some canoeing 101 tips from Dot Bonnefette— practical, hands-on learning from someone who clearly knows the river like an old friend. Dot is also a talented artist, especially known for her beautiful paddles. I first met her back in 2012. Being able to learn from Dot feels like an honour. She has a way of sharing knowledge that feels generous and grounded, always with a sense of humour and deep respect for the land and water.
John McDonnell and myself took a canoe trip up river, paddling down river is much easier than going up river against the current on a windy day! However our final destination made it all worthwhile, and we did travel back down river. This time instead of pulling our canoe up through rapids, we were in the canoe going through some rapids, a little bit of exhilaration before returning to camp.
Every evening ended around the fire at camp, with shared meals and stories. The boundary between days felt less like tracking time and more like living it.
By Day 8 — pack-up and head-out day — I honestly felt like I could’ve stayed another week. I think most did. The weather couldn’t have been better, and everyone seemed to have found their footing in each day. New buddies appeared daily, with people heading out on small excursions, paddling, sketching, painting, writing, collecting and exploring — each person responding to the landscape in their own way. It was one of those rare times when 20 strangers, all with different creative goals, came together to use our talent as artists and creatives to support CPAWS conservation work.
In this short synopsis, I’ve only been able to highlight a few of the creative adventures we had. I could name every artist who took part — each one contributed something real and lasting — but there simply isn’t space here to tell every story. Just know that behind each moment was a group of people fully present, fully engaged, and fully inspired by the Dumoine.
November 1st 2025 we’ll have our first group show in Deep River — and it promises to be a truly unique experience. With so many different creatives at camp—from painters and fiber artists to potters and photographers—the show will offer a rich and varied look at the river and its surroundings If you love art, nature, or just discovering new perspectives it should be on the to-do-list.
I continue to add photos and artwork created and inspired by 'Dumoine Art For Wilderness' DRAW 2025 with the Canadian Park and Wilderness Society - Ottawa Valley
More than a creative retreat, DRAW deepened my connection to the Dumoine River and strengthened my commitment to preserving the natural beauty of fragile ecosystems by creating purposeful art in the extraordinary Canadian wilderness.
Writing about these places feels necessary. I’m not writing to be poetic or clever or academic — I’m doing it because the art would feel incomplete without it.
ARTWORK DESCRIPTIONS
Amphitheatre - ( inspired artwork from my canoe trip with John McDonnell a 16 x 20 oil on canvas)
here is my description-
This painting captures a hidden spot along the Dumoine River in Quebec — a place that’s hard to describe unless you’ve been there, or know someone who has. John McDonnell John is the executive Director of CPAWS- OV. We met professionally back in 2009 when I first was working on my original Dumoine River Project. It’s hard to believe its been that long but it was especially nice to visit this area with someone who I’ve known so long.
John brought me to this location during our canoe trip most likely knowing how much Id appreciate it. It’s tucked between the Sheerway and Little Steel rapids. To reach it, you hike in a short way upstream from the river. The terrain quickly becomes rugged, with massive boulders to climb over, offering a true sense of scale, nature shaped over thousands of years along the Canadian Shield.
There were several places on this trip where I really felt the presence of these absolutely massive boulders — some easily 20 or 30 feet high that had tumbled off the cliffs on the river a long time ago. I could imagine the force it must have taken to bring them down. It’s the kind of landscape that makes you think another could fall at any moment.
Once we arrived, it felt like a little paradise.
A small waterfall spills down one side of the rock face, while on the other, a natural staircase of moss-covered ledges climbs the cliff. You can walk out along these ledges and stand directly beneath the falling water. That side of the cliff is especially intriguing to me — it appears concave, almost like a natural Amphitheatre. These massive boulders over time broke away and fell, leaving behind this open, bowl-like space. The fallen rocks now a kind of stepped platform where you can stand under the waterfall, a real treat on a hot day.
Its truly a unique ecological pocket I didn’t expect to see, lush with moisture and soft green mosses. The rock face looked to be about 50 feet high — though that’s just my guess, standing there at 5 feet tall.
There were a few points during this trip/ or residency with DRAW where I found myself thinking about time — both environmental and personal. As someone who's a Generation X, I’ve seen real environmental changes over my lifetime. I grew up before climate change was part of everyday conversation. Winters were colder. Seasons were more predictable. The changes haven’t been sudden, but they’ve been steady — and noticeable.
That adds to the reason I wanted to paint this place. The waterfall was likely not flowing as strongly as it might in a wetter season — it was a dry part of summer, although I would have painted it anyway. The hazy days from wildfire smoke lingered in the air. These subtle, tangible signs all contributed to a very real feeling — one that’s noticeable and impossible to ignore. This is part of what I think of as my “documentary landscape” art — capturing not just the physical place, but its moment in time and the realities that come with it — and inevitably, things change. ( see painting image in photos that follow)
Cerulean Light ( 8 x 10" acrylic on board ) was inspired as I camped along the banks of the Dumoine River for DRAW 2025. This is painted on location.
Each night, I watched my tent glow in the dark woods — a soft light blue, like the colour of the daytime sky, glowing against the deep cerulean blue of night. Surrounded by forest and the sound of moving water, it felt peaceful in the depth of the trees. That moment stayed with me. ( see painting images below)
A moment that stayed with me from Camp, as I start adding my painting descriptions:
Something that stayed with me from this trip was something another artist said—something that really landed. In the evenings, a few of the artists would bring out their work and have informal critiques. While I’ve never been especially drawn to that process myself, I appreciated being part of the conversations. One artist said:
‘Why is it, as artists, when someone says they like our work, we immediately point out everything we could have done better—instead of just saying thank you?’
It struck me because it’s true. And it wasn’t something I hadn’t felt myself—it was more like a quiet validation of something I already believed. It reminded me to accept those moments of connection with the work, and to trust that sometimes, what comes through is enough.
See painting description in narrative above
Untitled painting 1 - 16 x 20
Oil on canvas
Bon Echo
16 x 20" oil on canvas
(original sold) - 5 x7 prints of this painting are available at GreyStones Gift Shoppe in Bon Echo Provincial Park.
'The Shapeshifter '
16 x 20"
acrylic on canvas
( original Sold)
Echo's of Last Light
20 x 24"
acrylic on canvas
original painting available in GreyStones Gift Shoppe Bon Echo Provincial Park
Camping Bon Echo
24 x 24" oil on canvas
original painting available in Greystones Gift Shoppe in Bon Echo Provincial Park
( although the painting Camping is meant to inspire the feeling of camping the actual location was up towards camp sites 164 and above in Bon Echo)
Between Stone & Sky
8 x 10"
oil on canvas
Plein Air Watercolour Bon Echo 2024
available for purchase at GreyStones Gift Shoppe in Bon Echo Provincial Park
Bon Echo Plein Air watercolour from 2024 Available for purchase in GreyStone Gift Shoppe in Bon Echo Provincial Park
Bon Echo plein air watercolour sketch 2024
Available for purchase in GreyStones Gift Shoppe in Bon Echo Provincial Park
Plein Air Watercolour from Bon Echo 2024 available for purchase in Grey Stones Gift Shoppe in Bon Echo Provincial Park
Plein Air acrylic painting from 'Bon Echo Lake' 2024
(original sold)
Bon echo ink & watercolour sketch 2024
(original sold)
Plien Air watercolour sketch from 2024 Bird count at Bon Echo
(Orginal Sold)
Bon Echo plein air watercolour painting 2024
"Inspired by the land, shaped by the Journey"
Contemporary Narrative
Shelley Leach © 2025
Mazinaw Rock is, located within Bon Echo Provincial Park in Southeastern Ontario. My time at Bon Echo and Mazinaw Rock will always be extremely important in my artistic journey. During an artists residency in the area in 2024 I completed a project highlighting Mazinaw Rock & Bon Echo. While my artists residency was not hosted by Bon Echo Provincial Park itself, the park was the subject of my work. It’s worth noting that Bon Echo has not offered an artist-in-residency program in over a decade, it could actually be several. Interestingly, I inquired after the completion of my project if the park would consider hosting a " artist-in-residence program" once again. The response was..." we do not have the capacity to host an Artists in Residency program or visiting artist workshops." I didn't find this response surprising, although disappointing.
This brings me to a crucial point particularly for parks such as Bon Echo. I believe the role of an artist extends far beyond painting — at least it does for me. It is about understanding, interpreting, and making a deeper connection with place. By not hosting an artist-in-residence program, the park misses a vital opportunity to extend and evolve its artistic and cultural legacy, one that could be seen through new eyes and shared in new voices.
It also denies emerging artists — especially those who may not have the means to self-initiate projects an important pathway for artistic development and engagement with the land. Art plays a vital role in culture, serving as a means of expression, reflection, and connection. It fosters engagement, conversation, and deepens our understanding of our immediate surroundings. In December 2024, Ontario passed the Group of Seven Day Act, legally proclaiming July 7 each year as “Group of Seven Day” to recognize the legacy of these iconic Canadian landscape painters. This act signifies a important cultural endorsement of art in nature. Meant to encourage creative engagement in the outdoors. Ironically, while the Ontario government recognizes the importance of art in nature and celebrates the legacy of artists like the Group of Seven, Bon Echo has yet to fully embrace opportunities to engage with new, visiting, and emerging artists, who could offer fresh perspectives and creative connections to the landscape.
Through my 2024 project it gave me time to explore and reflect upon this area, part of Canada’s unique landscape. In 1982, Mazinaw Rock was designated a "Historic Site of Canada" because: it is the largest "rock art" site on the southern Canadian Shield and the only major pictograph site in Southern Ontario.
My project embodies a honest interdisciplinary approach that I hope fosters deeper connections, adds to the provenance of the original work by providing cultural relevance, and a unique perspective to the story of my time at Bon Echo. The series includes paintings, on-location watercolours, photographs, journal entries, and this written narrative. Together, they represent an evolving creative process that unfolded throughout the development of the project. Painting is my expression of creative exploration of the outdoors.
This project was exhibited in full or in part at:
Mazinaw Rock rises approx. 330 ft above Mazinaw Lake and it approx. 1.5 km in distance. Mazinaw Rock is known for its indigenous pictographs and the imposing size of the cliff. Mazinaw rock was opened as a public Provincial Park in 1965 and is the largest indigenous rock art site in the southern Canadian Shield in 1982 it was designated a National historic site of Canada.
This area has a colourful past engraved on the cliff is a very large quote from a poem by poet Walt Whitman. In 1919 this was commissioned by early feminist, and business woman Flora MacDonald Denison who though advocacy for women's rights contributed to gender equality in Canada. Stone masons carved this poem into Mazinaw Rock. Denison was a proponent of the arts, especially writing. When she and her husband owned the Bon Echo Inn it was turned it into a haven for artists and thinkers, an artistic and recreational retreat in the Ontario wilderness. Flora MacDonald Denison died in 1921. In September 1936, lightning struck the Bon Echo Inn. The whole building burned within 1 to 2 hours, and the Bon Echo Inn was no more.
In 1959 Approx. 1200 acres of the land for what would become Bon Echo Provincial Park was donated to the Ontario Government by Merrill Denison the son of Flora MacDonald Denision. Merrill Denison (1893–1975) was a Canadian playwright , journalist, and historian. One of his most famous published works was " The Barley and The stream". Merrill Denision had a longstanding dedication to conservation with deep values for appreciation of the natural environment. The initial 1200 acres of land was donated by Denision specifically to become a provincial park. The poem quote says in part... “My Foothold is Tenon'd and mortised in granite I laugh at what you call dissolution and I know the amplitude of time”
Lake Mazinaw has a permitter of 49 km and an astounding depth of close to 500ft. making it one of the deepest lakes in Ontario. Mazinaw Rock, rising 330 feet above the waterline, means likely it extends a similar distance below the surface. The lake is located in the headwaters of the Mississippi River watershed. Mazinaw lake is also a habitat for Lake Sturgeon, they are a "species at risk" and considered threatened. Lake Sturgeon are bottom feeding fish, with the depth of Mazinaw I was told it would be rare to see one, it was explained to me when at the park by park staff the largest one recorded at Lake Mazinaw to date was 9ft, 500lbs and approx. 103 yrs old. I think this size could be more legend and possibly a bit exaggerated. However, they are extremely large fish and I would expect with the depth of Mazinaw indeed there are some very large sturgeons lurking in its depths. Most certainly the dinosaurs of Mazinaw.
The lake is divided into two basins and is home to Bon Echo Provincial Park. The Boundaries of Bon Echo Provincial Park protect is approximately 20,000 acres of this diverse ecosystem with its natural rugged beauty. The park really has what I refer to as two sides, the Lake Mazinaw side of the park is actually the smallest area of the park at approx. 2000 acres, its also the most visited for obvious reason... Mazinaw Rock. However there is 18,000 acres beyond Lake Mazinaw and Mazinaw Rock ...18,000 acres is approx. 72 sq km in comparison to the approx. 8 sq km of the Mazinaw side of Bon Echo. In this larger part of the a park the lakes are smaller, there are numerous backcountry hiking trails and more rustic camping areas. The entire park is within the boundaries of both North Frontenac and Lennox & Addington county.
Bon Echo was named for the acoustic properties of the rock surrounding the Lake. Mazinaw, comes from Algonquin words “Mazinaabikinigan-zaaga'igan,” meaning “painted-image ,picture” or “writing,” The Rock ( Cliff) on Lake Mazinaw, and the surrounding area, is significant for the region’s Indigenous Peoples, evidenced by hundreds of indigenous pictographs. The pictographs were painted on the rock (cliff) at or close to water level with red ochre , pigment made from clay rich in iron oxide. The creators of these pictographs used animal fat or plant material as binding agent to adhere the paint they created to the rock surface.
Out of the 260 or so pictographs, one stood out to me: a turtle depicted in an orange tone, contrasting with the deep red ochre of the others. It was explained that the ochre may have originated from different locations, with only two known sources in the area. I questioned whether the colour difference might instead be due to the binding agent used in the pigment. As an artist, this was my initial thought. I found it intriguing that this one orange tone pictograph represents a turtle, a significant symbol in Indigenous cultures, embodying creation, wisdom, protection, nurturing, and balance. Mazinaw Rock holds profound meaning, interpreted in our own ways, the essence of its captivating presence.
Something else about the pictographs and why in some respects I believe my project is timely. Many of pictographs have faded over the years, especially when compared to the vibrant colours they once had. Many of the images found online show them as a deep oxide red, but in reality, the colours have dulled significantly. This deterioration isn’t due to natural weathering or environmental factors; rather, it’s primarily caused by human interaction when touching the pictographs. As visitors touch the pictographs while exploring the area, the oils and dirt from our hands contribute to the fading leaving some barely visible today.
Despite the heritage designation of Mazinaw Rock thousands of visitors engage directly with the pictographs each year, leading to accelerated deterioration. These pictographs are estimated to date back anywhere from 300 to 1,000 years, but in under a century of human interaction, many have become barely noticeable. This observation underscores a crucial point about our curiosity—it can lead to unintentional harm.
It's essential to consider the impact of our actions and encourage more respectful engagement with these cultural treasures, ensuring they can be appreciated by future generations. It’s inevitable that there will be some human impact when we’re out in nature that can be concerning. I believe that the deterioration of pictographs is concerning.
For me, the pictographs are essential to understanding Bon Echo and Mazinaw Rock. They have been part of the area for an estimated 300 to 1,000 years or more, depending on who you speak with. The Bon Echo Inn existed for about 36 years yet I left Bon Echo in October 2024 knowing more about the Bon Echo Inn days than the indigenous heritage of the area. I appreciate all aspects of Bon Echo’s history and I really wanted to know more about the indigenous heritage, as time would have it I did learn a lot more about the indigenous heritage of Mazinaw in April 2025.
Although most of my time was spent on the Mazinaw side of Bon Echo Provincial park in 2024 there are in fact two sides to the park, Bon Echo features: Mazinaw Lake, Bon Echo Lake, Abes Lake, Essens lake, and Joeperry Lake, alongside numerous trails leading to smaller bodies of water and lakes. I spent some time in these areas of the park, Bon Echo Lake is a smaller lake within Bon Echo.
As you go beyond this to the other sites on this side of the park the areas get more distant and rugged from that of Mazinaw Lake. Exploring these less-traveled areas deepened my appreciation for the entire park, highlighting the balance between its popular attractions and the serene, untamed beauty of its wilderness. This side of the park as mentioned is approx.18,000 acres of the over 20,000 acres Bon Echo Protects. In 2022, a storm called a "derecho" devastated this area of the park.
I found this areas transformation similar to the beauty found in wetlands, where change and renewal are essential to the ecosystem's vitality. Just as wetlands serve as vital habitats for species like frogs, turtles, dragonflies and countless others, the weathering of this forest reflects a dynamic process in which beauty emerges not in permanence but in the evolution of the land. While wetlands often serve as a living classroom for many, this area offers similar insights into biodiversity and ecological interconnections, I think this rugged landscape reminded me of the lessons in the complexities of nature much like ourselves. To look beyond immediate visuals and appreciate the underlying processes at work. As a landscape artist, I thought this area in particular is a reminder that nature’s artistry goes far beyond what meets the eye, revealing complexity and wonder.
My “official” project is now finished. While my time in the area wasn’t part of an official residency program, I like to think of it as my own personal, "unofficial residency" at Bon Echo—a period that has deeply shaped my work and will continue to influence my artistic journey. I’m hopeful that this experience can inspire visitors to reflect on the importance of supporting arts and culture in public spaces.
In November, I spent some time at Bon Echo after the end of the camping season. I returned again in Dec, 2024 where I volunteered for the third annual Bon Echo Bird Count. Beyond the park, in February 2025 I requested a tour at the National Gallery of Canada to see all the artwork in their collection of Bon Echo. This included 3 original works by Group of Seven member Arthur Lismer and one work by A.Y Jackson. This tour included artwork in the galleries vaults and curatorial notes. I was provided a tour by one of the galleries curators with a vast knowledge of these works. It really gave me a truer understanding of the more famous artwork created of Bon Echo and Mazinaw Rock. To see the artists sketches and finished works in the collection was something I truly took inspiration from as I finished my own work at Bon Echo.
After my visit to the National Gallery, I realized that, to the best of my knowledge, I may be the only female artist to have undertaken a "large-scale, dedicated project focused on Bon Echo Provincial Park". While other women have certainly created individual works inspired by the park, this realization made me reflect on the importance of this projects contribution by adding a more sustained female artists perspective to this landscape.
Much of Bon Echo’s visual legacy has been shaped by male artists, and I hope my work offers a meaningful addition to that story.
April, 2025 I once again returned to Bon Echo, this time to meet with Tim Yearington a Metis writer/author, artist and traditional wilderness guide. I was hopeful he could help me feel more balanced with my understanding of Mazinaw Rock from an indigenous perspective as mentioned earlier my narrative. He certainly did make me feel my work at Bon Echo was worthwhile. I’m very thankful for his time and sharing his knowledge and experiences at Mazinaw with me.
While developing the project in 2024, much of the creative process was on my social media pages, offering a behind-the-scenes look at how the work evolved over time. Now that the project is complete, those materials are no longer available online, but I’m always happy to talk about the inspiration behind the paintings and how the project took shape. Through this project I tried to create art that invites you to celebrate the beauty, complexity and multifaceted stories that makes Bon Echo such a artistically captivating area.
Knowing art still matters and continuously offers new perspectives makes me feel that my time and work at Bon Echo wasn’t just worthwhile—it became a meaningful addition to the evolving artistic narrative that surrounds Mazinaw Rock and Bon Echo. Although the work from this project has been shown at various locations having it all completed and in the park for the 2025 annual arts festival was meaningful, underscoring the vital role art still has at Bon Echo. I had a excellent time at the 2025 Art Festival in Bon Echo and was able to chat with and connect with many generational campers in the park and cottagers from the area. It further deepened my connection and knowledge of the area and people who also feel that sense of connection. Thanks to all who visited my booth, 20% of the sales of my artwork over the two day Bon Echo Festival of the Arts in July 2025 were donated to the Friends of Bon Echo Park. I was able to donate almost $600.00 from my sales to help continue to make the park a special place for everyone who visits. Thanks to all who purchased my work who made this possible.
From July 2025 - Oct 2025 my remaining project work could be found at GreyStones Giftshoppe at Bon Echo 30% of all my sales during this time went to The Friends of Bon Echo. They support activities and improvements or upkeep of the park. I'm happy to have been able to show work inspired by this area within the park, and that I was able to contribute though "art" a substantial amount to these initiatives.
Mazinaw Rock and Bon Echo certainly weaved their way into the fabric of how I view art, place, and the quiet, powerful stories held within the landscape. And on that note, that’s a wrap for this project — another indelible mark in the pages of my experiences.
© Shelley Leach 2025
In 2008, I embarked on a journey to artistically document the natural beauty of the Dumoine River, located in western Quebec, Canada. Inspired by a conversation at a friend’s camp in the Lac Laforge area of Dumoine. I decided to paint my way down the Dumoine River. ( starting from the top of the river at Lac Brûlart). It seems a lot of my projects start this way. It didn't go exactly as I envisioned on that day. I'm not sure I could have ever envisioned what a rewarding experience it would be so many years later. However, I still do recall sitting on the beach on that day in 2008 and setting my dreams into motion. It began as a simple idea and turned into a four-year artistic adventure that led to the creation of numerous large paintings, watercolours, location sketches, hundreds of photographs and numerous profoundly memorable collaborations.
Over the course of this project, the Dumoine River became a powerful subject for my present and future work, and the rivers preservation grew to be a cause close to me that aligned with my values.
In 2009, I began working in collaboration with the Canadian Parks and Wilderness Society (CPAWS) Ottawa Valley Chapter to help raise awareness for the Dumoine River Campaign through my artwork. Dumoine is one of the last intact watersheds in southern Canada. Essentially one of the few free-flowing rivers having never been dammed and considered a "wild" river. I think few of us ever think, we truly have very few free-flowing waterways. I was elated my work helped in ensuring this pristine part of the Canadian Landscape will remain a free flowing River for all to enjoy. I donated a portion of the proceeds from the sale of my original Dumoine artwork and limited edition prints to CPAWS, supporting their efforts to preserve special places like the Dumoine River.
The Dumoine River is a wilderness rich in history. It starts in Machin Lake near the La Vérendrye Wildlife Reserve and flows southward to empty into the Ottawa River. Spanning 129 km, the river is a testament to the rugged beauty of the Canadian landscape, with strong currents, 30 sets of rapids, and minimal development along its shores. The river’s serene, tranquil areas contrast sharply with its exhilarating rapids, offering both peaceful beauty and the thrill of untamed nature. Through my paintings, I sought to capture this dynamic character of the river, documenting not just its physical beauty but also its historical significance.
One such historical artifact I discovered during my travels was the Alligator tug, a unique boat built for logging in the late 19th and early 20th centuries. Invented by Canadian John Ceburn West, the Alligator tug was a steam-powered boat with side-mounted paddle wheels that could pull itself across land and carry a boom of logs over water. These boats played a vital role in the logging industry, and many of them were used on the Dumoine River. Some of the original tugs are now relics, slowly being reclaimed by the landscape they once roamed. The painting " Reclaimed" is a tribute to these relics of the logging era.
While exploring the river, I also stumbled upon “Alligator Point,” a geographical anomaly like the boat for which it is named, further deepening the connection to the land and its history. The Dumoine River became a subject of both artistic inspiration and environmental advocacy. Through my artwork I'd hoped to inspire others to appreciate and protect the natural beauty of this iconic river.
My artistic journey with the Dumoine River was shaped by a lifetime of artistic influence. Spending 12 years living in more remote areas in Quebec I developed a deep understanding of the regional landscape. For over two decades, I honed my skills in oil, acrylic, and watercolour, creating works that reflect both my connection to the land and my dedication to preserving it.
From 2008 to 2012, the Dumoine River Project culminated in the creation of 10 large original paintings, numerous watercolors, and countless photographs. These works were exhibited at various venues, including The Canadian Museum of Nature in collaboration with the Canadian Parks and Wilderness Society, Trailhead Adventure Sports, The Ottawa Outdoors and Adventure Show, and many more. The entire collection was sold to private and corporate art collectors, with a portion of the proceeds donated to CPAWS.
Through my artwork, I tried not only to capture the beauty of the Dumoine River but also worked to raise awareness about the importance of preserving this exceptional wilderness for future generations.
The Original painting images below are only the large studio painting created as part of this project.
© Shelley Leach