Paul Schleusner painted a large selection of original paintings from his journeys in North America and Europe. Gail McNaughton makes photo art greeting cards of his works on selected paintings.
Paul was noted for his skill as a colourist from his long experience as a sign painter and artist using the media oil, pastel and acrylic.
Paul painted a variety of subjects to please all tastes:
- large and small florals
-seascapes, boats, harbours.
Paul painted on location thereby capturing the essence and atmosphere of the
Moment. It was said in his close circle of firnds that he could paint a picture in an hour.
Paul Schleusner was born in Germany and from childhood much of his time was spent drawing and painting on the back of old wallpaper rolls provided by his father.
It was natural that he should chose an arts-related career. He received his apprenticeship as a sign painter as well as Fine Art instruction in Hanover, Germany.
Paul immigrated to Canada in 1958 and while still maintaining his sign business in St. Thomas, Ont. realized his dream of opening his own Studio-Gallery in Port Stanley, Ont. in 1988. Now retired from the sign business, Paul could devote his time to his first love- painting.
Paul’s philosophy is to “Create Beauty”. He states “Many years ago, when I first learned to appreciate classical music, I dreamed of creating the same beauty of Mozart and Beethoven through the use of colour. The learning never ends as I explore the use of different media, styles and techniques.” Paul’s love of nature takes him outside to paint ‘on location’ the rural and lakeshore regions of Ontario. He has traveled and painted from ‘sea to shining sea’ as well as the ancient cities and landscapes of Europe and Britain.Paul’s work can now be found in many countries around the world.
Paul died August 20, 2009 and will be missed by all of his fans.
Gail on the lawn of Alma College showing off paintings done by Paul Schleusner
Gail & Susan Fortin-Smith at Auction for Paul Schleusner's Paintings
The Fall at Alma College
Steam Engine # 9 At Port Stanley Terminal Rail Depot
The Red Canoe Brought Me To You By Gail McNaughton
I basked in the glow,
Of a cottage window.
Being thrilled by the sites,
Of Autumn dressed in coloured tights,
The honking of the Geese,
Moved me to peace,
As I recalled the day – The red canoe, Brought me to you.
How it weathered the storm and,
How your heart was so warm.
Love sounded no alarms,
So I wrapped myself in your arms.
Once, we were wind-blown leaves,
But now we're gracious, mature trees,
Entrenched in the struggles of life,
With cross-paths of husband and wife.
Autumn prepares for Winter,
The heart can be cold, angry and bitter,
And in the Spring we’ll dance at the first light of dawn,
As the flowers spring forth in the beds of our lawn.
The Summer will catch us stargazing and crooning by,
The cycle of Fall will make us take heed and sigh.
The red canoe will hibernate at the foot of the dock,
Patiently waiting for its seasonal clock.
When the time comes and when the mood is true,
The sun will shine upon you and the skies will turn blue.
And the red canoe that ventured to bring me to you,
Will glide in the waters and make us renewed.
October 14, 2001
Poem inspired by Paul Schleusner’s pastel of Red Canoe and Hawke Island, Chandos Lake
October 13, 2001
The Red Canoe
Port Burwell Lighthouse
These are from Gail`s own private collection as she commissioned Paul
to do these to be a part of her Fantasy Series:
Jumbo Visits The Port Burwell Lighthouse
Jumbo Vacations In Port Stanley
Jumbo Visits Alma College
FALL BY YOU IN THE RED CANOE By Gail McNaughton, October 24, 2002, Inspired by Pastel done by Paul Schleusner
It was fall,
And our love would be over for the season.
You wanted me to stay,
But I gave you every reason.
For I must take the canoe,
And go across the lake homeward bound,
My dogs would be wondering loudly,
If I was lost or I was found.
I loved you in the summer,
Winter, spring and fall,
But I was a wounded soldier,
And solitude had its call.
I was one to hunger for,
The romantic taste of life,
But when it got right down to it,
I was to be no man’s wife.
I think you know me well enough,
That I must be alone,
I’m not one to express my love,
But please call me on the phone.
I’ll think of you so often,
As the leaves blanket the red canoe,
And I’ll drink to a love lost but remembered,
Almost as comfortable as a hiker’s shoe.
I’ll dream of my memories on the lake,
When we heard natures call,
The loon will comfort me in my thoughts,
Before it flies away this fall.
And I’ll wrap myself up by the stove,
And direct my thoughts to the fire,
And when I’ve stopped thinking of you,
I’ll go to bed, look at your picture and retire.
Fall by you in the red canoe,
And spring forth in the season of birth.
We will have our days together,
In peace with ourselves and Mother Earth.
Tempt me again another year,
For the magic of love may entice me sometime,
And we will be together,
Like hugging grapes clinging to a ripening vine.
Pink & Orange Iris Joy
Georgian Bay Birch Trees In Fall
THE RED CANOE REFUSES TO BE PUT AWAY By Gail McNaughton, October 14, 2009
“I don’t want to go home.
I don’t want to go to emptiness,
Which is someone else’s world.
I see the sunrise.
I become the sunrise,
To hide in the depths of nature.
I am relaxed,
With no fixation to time.
My view is filled,
With a spectacular spectacle,
Of God’s fall handiworks.”
The Red Canoe hugs the shoreline,
And Refuses to be put away,
The fall show upon us,
Occupies our fantasy,
But winter is ripe in its footsteps,
For snow, hail, rain and wind,
Have pushed us out farther,
In the lake.
Isn’t the season much too young,
For snowmobiles, snowshoes,
Halloween is scary enough,
And I can see,
The Red Canoe’s lip curl,
For it wasn’t going to transport,
Any more spooks or goblins this year,
To the haunted house across the lake.
I led The Red Canoe to the rock face,
Climbed up on top,
After covering it,
With a Stewart tartan wool blanket,
I stoked the bonfire,
Poured the last cup of hot chocolate
And said good-bye to my friend,
For the season.
Farewell dear Red Canoe.
See you again in the spring,
And don’t be lonely,
For I’ll think of you in my dreams,
And keep you ever in my thoughts,
And in the sunrise of my daily meditation.
The Painter and The Red Canoe
WINTER THROUGH YOU IN THE RED CANOE
By Gail McNaughton, December 4, 2002, inspired by Paul Schleusner’s painting
There were ice crystals,
On The red canoe,
That sparkled like diamonds,
And reminded me of you.
You were there in the Summer,
Spring and Fall,
Winter’s sharp wind,
Leaves long shadows,
On the wall.
I could see in the mirror,
The growth of my beard,
Such a tundra forest,
That you would have geared.
The silvery moon,
Cast its rays directly my way,
The red canoe wearing a cap of snow,
Was here to stay.
It would spur me onward,
During the long days and nights,
And remind me ultimately,
Of our round the lake sites.
Where we would camp,
Under heaven’s tonic of stars,
With a bonfire to warm us,
Away from cranky cars.
But here in the cottage,
Snug by the lake,
The red canoe looks lonesome,
Our love seems at stake.
For you are not here,
To guide me through winter,
My heart is sorrow-filled,
It needs a medical tincture.
So when the sun shines favorably,
On the red canoe,
It will reflect emotional hues,
That refreshes me about you.
And perhaps I’m too harsh,
On your leaving my side,
This time I’m alone,
Permits me one last ride.
I’ll paddle the lake,
In winter wonderland dreams,
In the arms of an Angel,
In her radiant sunbeams.
And remember you lovingly,
Through the crackle of ice,
We created this separation,
Now it’s the role of the dice.
So winter through you,
In the red canoe,
Will keep me foot loose,
For a romance dance with you.