I've always been drawn to these little cabins.

Over the years, I've spent countless hours exploring the Rideau Lakes by boat, sketchbook in hand, looking for places that catch my eye. The cabins in this series are all inspired by real places I've seen along the shoreline. Some are tucked into the trees, some sit on bare granite, and some seem to occupy impossibly small pieces of land. Every time I come across one, I find myself wondering about its story.

What I love most is how these cabins seem to hold on to the landscape. A narrow strip of rock. A tiny island. A windswept point. Somehow they've found their place there and become part of it. After a while, it's hard to imagine the shoreline without them.

But for me, it's never just about the building.

It's about the people who have spent time there. The families that return year after year. The kids who learned to fish off the dock. The long summer evenings, the rainstorms watched from the porch, the stories told around a campfire, and the traditions that get passed from one generation to the next. These places become much more than cabins. They become part of a family's history.

When I painted The Gathering Place, that was what I was thinking about. Not just the cabin itself, but the life that surrounds it. The bright red buildings sitting on the shoreline, the movement in the water, the pines reaching toward the sky, and all the memories that might have been made there over the years.

This painting is part of my ongoing Rideau Canal Cabin Bunkie Series, a collection inspired by the cottages, cabins, and boathouses that make this part of Ontario so special. Every one of them has a story. Every one of them belongs exactly where it is.

And every time I pass a place like this, I wish I knew a little more about the people who call it theirs.