Emily Carr lived through the depression, finding a variety of ways to ‘make ends meet. “A living must be squeezed from somewhere.” And this sentiment has meaning for many once again today. Carr’s journals are full of dark days, light rays and in the balance, a great impatience to learn and be about creating.Not the least of her creating was defining time and space to paint in a male dominated art world, with the additional requirement of earning a living. She found ways to support herself during lean times, breeding dogs (Bobtails and Griffons), creating pottery and especially luckily for us, she at last arrived at writing, earning the Governor-General’s Award for non-fiction with her first book, Klee Wyck, published in 1941.
“I have been to the woods at Esquimalt. Day was splendid—sunshine and blue, blue sky, and two arbutus trees with tender satin bark, smooth and lovely as naked maidens, silhouetted against the rough pine woods. Very joyous and uplifting, but surface representation doesn’t satisfy me now.”—from Hundreds and Thousands, Simcoe Street