There I was, many years ago, pregnant with my first son, doodling whimsical swirls on a scrap of paper, lost in a world of my own creation. That was the spark—a quiet moment when I let my pen dance, not knowing a friend would peek at those sketches and insist, “Dennice, you have to show these!” That first show, 49 years ago, born from on a whim, was a whirlwind—every piece I brought sold in an hour, and I stood there in awe, realizing my little doodles could light up a room.
I grew up in a house buzzing with creativity. My father, a business man and creative and musician who played by ear and filled our home with piano melodies. My mother’s delicate drawings and piano skills added their own magic. Summers at lake cottages or road trips to many unknown places opened my eyes to nature’s endless inspiration—rippling water, whispering trees, the surprise of a new horizon. Those adventures, and maybe a bit of my mischievous streak (I got expelled from private school for pranks, delivered with flair!), shaped the heart of my creating: a love for nature, connection, and the unexpected.The mystery of it all was my inspiration.
For me, art is a playground of whimsy and adventure. I’ve sculpted characters from Great Stuff foam for theatre props and kids’ rooms, turned paper bags into intricate creations, and crafted floor cloths that could also be called prayer mats. I’m drawn to nature always and to lightheartedness and whimsy. The first work of art that inspired me was a little painting on the wall by Grandma Moses.Though her life may have known hardship she too expressed a whimsical take on life. A childlike view of the world.
As a child of 7 I started to draw circles, filling each one with patterns and colour that just came through me.I made many patterned circles in great detail. An adult who took interest in them said to me “These look like mandala’s.” I would then call them mandalas, knowing little if anything about their ancient history. All I knew was that people who experienced them called them beautiful. Was I getting messages from elsewhere through these patterned circles? I found myself wondering about this.
On my journey through creating I have always loved the surprise of materials, like recently discovering the medium of recycled paper bags that can hold a world of possibility and an acknowledgment of my deep love for trees.Knowing now more than ever the honouring of nature is my passion. My creative process? It’s like losing myself at the piano, where hours slip away unnoticed, and I’m left marvelling at what has emerged from that place of abandon.
I’ve been fortunate to share my creations out into the world from that first show to Toronto’s vibrant art scene. My biggest influence, beyond nature and my parents, might be the accidental magic of life—like stumbling into a room in Paris to find Picasso himself, or the “lesser-known” Toronto artists who taught me art in a conversation. I’ve even inspired a few folks along the way, which feels like the best kind of ripple.
Through it all, my art carries a message of lightheartedness. Life hasn’t always been easy—crossing the Sahara at 19 was gruelling, and I’ve faced my share of challenges but I’ve learned to find humour in the chaos. My creations don’t dwell on darkness; it’s a celebration of resilience, a reminder to pass lightly through life’s desert, trusting that “this too shall pass”.
Welcome to my world, where a paper bag becomes art, and every brushstroke is an encounter with life’s possibilities. I hope my work brings you a smile, a spark, a moment of lightness or reflection.