The vision and product of a creator

About 12 years ago, Lucie Bellemare had a colleague and friend who had brain cancer. The woman had dedicated her life to her love of teaching and that passion and focus made an impact on Bellemare.
She told Bellemare to follow her desire to pain because maybe tomorrow it would be too late. Up to that point, she had been restrained by distraction and a bit of self doubt, but the woman’s words riveted her, so she plunged into exploring how she could make her mark in the world of art.
“You don’t need to be a Rembrandt or Cezanne,” she says in her francophone-accented English.
And that was how she slowly began to transform her larger home near Abram’s Village in to a cluttered, beguiling art studio, in which she would go on to create myriads of things of wide variety and influence; anything from large, splashy canvasses, wrought with bright colours, lines of determination and chaotic purpose, to small series of miniatures which have become vignettes for those browsing through the wood framed, secluded retreat.
Bellemare began her professional life as a linguist in Quebec and later, moved into teaching. Her studies include training at Universite du Quebec a Chicoutimi, the University of Ottawa, Laval and the University of Moncton. In some ways, her attendance at these institutions prepared her for her creative bent, as everything she has done, everything she has experienced, finds its way into her work, she says.
“All of the arts are mixed together. I think it’s musical too,” she adds.
She often works with music playing in the background. And she keeps a detailed journal of thoughts and impressions. Most of her art is inspired by what goes down in life on a day-to-day basis.
“I meet something that gives me a feeling of emotion or a feeling of equilibrium.” Bellemare says, pushing her black framed, rectangular glasses up the bridge of her nose. That instinctual urge generally fuels her next project or series of projects.
Arriving at her home is an experience in itself. A friendly mongrel greets everyone who visits, with a wriggling, joyful whimpering and a willing tongue, ready to bestow affection in doggie terms; his version of a kiss. It is clear there are very few unseen borders surrounding the property and Bellemare gives further evidence to the fact with affectionate hugs for her visitors. There is even a large pet bunny that roams the grounds, undaunted by the canine presence. Brightly lit rooms reveal their contents through many large windows; indeed the structure almost seems to consist more of glass panes than shingles.
Bellemare had been in P.E.I. for nine years, coming to the Island to take a teaching position at the Evangeline School in Abrams Village. Her art is not a means of generating income and people ask her, all the time, how she manages, she says.
The petite but intense, long haired brunette is a Christian who looks to her faith for both inspiration and providence, she explains.
“Lord whatever you want me to do, that’s it. And it’s if it’s freeing someone somewhere, then I feel I am doing my job.”
Pragmatically, her inspiration can come from almost any source and she changes her techniques almost deliberately about every six months. Once, back in 2004, she went through a phase in which she used hundreds of sea shells in her work.
“I’m getting out of my red period,” she offers, holding up several small pieces which showcase earth tones.
And recently, she has been using good old P.E.I. sand and paint to produce dozens of miniatures; allowing each new work to inspire and give rise to the next in the series, often taking the same subject or scene and producing a very different perspective, but keeping thematic influence intact. There are artefacts from the past in sand, she says.
“They know more than I do,” she reflects with a small smile.
Bellemare sees her art as a constant display of an ever-evolving metaphor and she tries to please herself with its creation. This is a truth which drives all artists, she says.
The francophone artist has been known to manufacture her own oils and acrylics and prefers to purchase natural pigments from suppliers all over, she says. But she will use most anything, to which rows of spray paint cans lining a couple of top shelves in her upstairs studio attests. She buys most of her paints and other necessities off-Island, from suppliers in Montreal, Toronto and Moncton.
Her passion for producing art became evident when she was only five, she says. She refused to use colouring books, but instead, drew her own. And visual art is not her only discipline. She is writing and illustrating four books on literacy.
She supplements her income with caricatures for La Voix Acadienne, a newspaper published in Summerside for and by the Island’s francophone community. She also arranges for exhibitions from time to time. The Acadian Museum in Miscouche displayed her work in the spring and summer of 2008. And she does sell it as well, but has been known to give friends samples of her work as well. She’s been busy and has to battle to do her own work, she says.
“Being an artist looks easy,” she adds. But it is deceptive.
And she is constantly questioning herself. Often, she experiences incubation periods and then suddenly shifts into a production phase. For Bellemare, it means always being at work in her head.
Whether working in her head or working in her studio with the corporeal, Bellemare can often be found celebrating life with her family and pets in the large house they call home, on a little dirt road just south of Abrams Village, relishing in her calling; surrounded by the congestion of her work. There is hardly a wall or piece of furniture that does not support a canvass produced over the years...studio or home, it matters not to the owner of the woodstove-heated, sprawling building how it’s labelled. What matters is, she took the advice of a friend who knew the wisdom of the ages and hasn’t looked back since. It’s clear, Bellemare’s vision and productivity have become one:
“I try to help people in my community know what an artist is all about."