I was born to a French-Canadian family in Montreal at Notre Dame Hospital - to a single mother under the name of Joseph André Michel François Beausoleil. I started my life on rue Berrie in Montreal and at the age of one I moved to an old Victorian house. Many of my childhood memories took place at this home; Most of my early memories were tactile.
My world I explored was through this new world of textures and colors. My first memory was touching and feeling my baby blue plastic bathtub, the warmth of the water and the cool blue sensation of its outer plastic shell and its rough-cut edges.
My mom had breast cancer, which led to chemotherapy and daily rest was needed. I was not allowed to go out of the apartment by myself until the age of 6, which essentially, caused me to develop a rich inner world.
I remember looking outside from the third floor living room window. Children played and people walked by on the street below. This was a favorite pastime, especially while mom was resting.
I also remember the cold feeling of the glass window, the texture of the green flaking paint of the wooden window frame and the cool plastic sealant masking the window, as well as the soft feeling of my mother’s stockings stuffed in the holes around the windows to keep the cold winter air out. I felt so high up since it was the only house with a third floor and I could see the entire neighborhood outside such as; the wonderful blue sky full of clouds in the summer and grey wistful clouds during the winter months.
It was wonderful looking at the pink florescent sunset and the orange dusk, in addition to the raging storms or snowy skies above my house. I would spend a lot of time on the balcony facing the backstreet because this side of the apartment was warm and the sunshine lit up the room. I loved the feeling of the westward sun on my face and the feeling of the weathered paint on the balcony.
I was 2 years old when I used my first Crayola crayons. I drew on the wall as high as I could reach. I drew my inner worlds; a forest of color in movement that surrounded me. A world that I felt was my beginning or past. What a surprise my mom had upon waking up from her nap. We were poor, so I used to make my own toys out of colored paper. I would cut, glue and fold it to build my own worlds. I built castles, skyscrapers, Greek or Egyptian temples and spaceships furniture included. I painted with gouache and watercolor, drew with Crayolas and color pencils.

My paper models gained attention by the local media and public television stations. I made multiple appearances on television where I showed children how to build their own models. In grammar school, I was awarded a gold medal in art from the Montreal public school system for children in my age range.
I drew under the kitchen table as well. I erased and redrew worlds that were at war with each other. My youth was spent exploring color textures and my inner worlds. Worlds where all was vibration and colors in movement, it came with a feeling of freshness and freedom.
In my early adolescence, I started reading incessantly especially; anything about Humanity about what makes us human. My favorite subjects were history, archeology, religion, art and spirituality. I would choose one book every month in each of those categories. These subjects started my fascination with which I would later call the “Human Experience.”
Towards the end of my adolescence, I started to travel around Europe every summer visiting museums galleries and churches; admiring art and as well nature. The immense cathedrals of France reminded me of the forests of Germany. I fell in love with Paris for its charmed and architecture. Venice was so beautiful that it made me melancholic.
In my early 20’s, I took two trips around the world of which I insisted on visiting Asia, especially Korea, Hong Kong, and Japan.
These trips brought me more experience in the profusion of my personal world. I experienced this diversity through experiencing the local foods, languages, art and the variety of social interactions that people around the world go through depending on their cultures.
At this point I was living in Tokyo. My mom; my friend, the one to whom I told all that happened to me, died from a second battle with breast cancer that she unfortunately, had hidden from me, so that I could enjoy my trip around the world. I had to cut my trip around the world short and returned home to eventually rebuild my life.
In the 1980’s, Montreal was in an economic depression of which I found myself unemployed. Eventually I found a job for NationAir Canada. I primarily started as a flight attendant then went up the ranks as purser. I mainly worked on sub-contracts in the Middle East, flying principally to Saudi Arabia, Egypt, Kuwait and the United Arab Emirates.
While there, I would take my days off and walk around and explore, sometimes losing myself in both villages and wonderful cities such as Cairo, Jeddah and Riyadh. I could feel the life and the diversity of vibrant colors and wonderful scents while discovering the souks and streets. I felt life emerge while traversing the villages and streets through my skin, and all other senses I could feel the life and diversity of colors and smells in the souks and streets. I loved talking to and taking pictures of merchants. I loved the humanity reflected in their faces and the different colors of their stalls or businesses. The desert has a way to get you to go inward yourself. To feel and think about what and who we are. Maybe it is its sun flattening all colors and landscape, or that sense of loneliness and oneness it brings on oneself but for sure it helped me to grow a stronger inner self.
The color palette of Saudi Arabia was principally beige. The absence of colors had awakened a need for colors in me.
When I finally moved to California, I started to paint in rich and bright colors. Colors became very important to me I stopped painting skin tones in beige and brown, and started using blues, pinks, oranges, peaches, greens, reds, purples, violets and yellows.
My life in the Middle East came to a standstill when the airline that I worked for decided to hire employees from India, which were more cost effective. And so, I was laid off. However, instead of returning back to Montreal I moved to California.
Where, away from my families who have mainly the mind of merchant and business people did not see any life for me as an artist. Here in California I could be free of doing art. Here I could paint what I wanted!
Here in California I started by exploring drawings with color pencils on watercolor paper. I loved the texture that the watercolor paper had under the color pencils. But really fast I came back to my old passion, oil paint on canvas. I love using a wide pallet of bright colors layering them in thin layer on top of each other, making them deeper and more vibrant. As well my passion for all side of the human experience came back. I love painting about the pain and joy of a growing humanity on a small planet. I love painting about diverse socio-political and spiritual subjects All of it in vibrant colors.
Lately another childhood passion of mine resurfaces and transformed my art medium. I love stones, semi-precious stones. So now I do an oil painting on wood than glue on it the appropriate stones and cover everything in resin. Those are called orgon paintings, because since the stone are compress by the resin they vibrate energetically.
One thing all have said about my work is that it is healing and makes you ask question about oneself and the world surrounding us.

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