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Tom Thomson
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Follow the Journal of My Last Spring on nostr. Tweeting in real-time from 1917

Art lives in its mistakes.

1914 In Algonquin Park #tt1914

This place is getting too much like north Rosedale to suit me #ttletter

Torment is part of the artist's job description

There is only so much you can do with grey and light greens.

I like to prepare my canvases so that they are of the same colour as my boards.

1905 River Landscape #tt1905

When Jackson returned to Algonquin Park in the fall of 1914, he said that had made remarkable progress.

Swamps, beaver dams and logging chutes: the subjects are endless.

I can see directly into the landscape and transform it.

The pine trees have the truest story of this land

1914 Wooded Landscape #tt1914

Jackson saw that I was a good designer. He suggested that I put my abilities to simplifying the scene.

I have no fear of loneliness and making myself inconspicuous.

I left Seattle in 1904 and ended up in Toronto in 1905.

I once gave a doctor 4 sketches as payment for treatment. He didn't think much of the sketches and put them in the cellar.

1907 Kemp Mill Pond in Leith

My sketching style evolved quickly because the North demands quick adaptation to its environment.

A girl once said of me 'I would have married him in a second, but he wasn't the marrying kind'. She was right.

The most bland are downright offended by the use of bright colour.

Electric light of the city does look beautiful - when refracted through filthy air.

When I first met Mark Robinson in 1913, he thought I was a poacher dodging as an artist.

The critic, Carl Ahrens, is an ass. So is Hector Charlesworth.

I was a compulsive but sporadic reader - Izaak Walton, The Compleat Angler I kept with me always

Mystery is not the same a misunderstanding.

I indulged myself in the brilliant fall colours, but truth is, spring is my favourite season.

Good fishing to be had at Gill Lake.

Annie Fraser always thought I had something going for Daphne Crombie

It was in the spring of 1912 that I fell in love with Algonquin Park.

The smell of balsam fir is much preferable to coal smoke and raw sewage