Jen Myhre
THE ARTIST
Jen Myhre
Making the Unreal
Real.
I am a self-taught Canadian hyperrealism artist working across oil, charcoal, dry pastel, and other traditional media.
I began my artistic practice in 2020.
The Natural History of Myth is an emerging world of beings who seem to have lives beyond the frame.
Scroll to discover
01 / AN UNEXPECTED BEGINNING
Animals.
Industry.
Art.
Before art, I spent fifteen years in animal care, wildlife rehabilitation, veterinary assistance and animal cruelty investigation. At 37, I began again in Northern Alberta as a labourer, heavy equipment operator and welder’s helper. Studying after long days in the field, I became a QC and weld inspector, eventually moving into management.
Art arrived during COVID. After quitting drinking and smoking, I ordered paint-by-numbers to keep my hands busy. Curiosity led to YouTube tutorials, dollar-store paints and inexpensive brushes. One experiment became another, and I began teaching myself to draw and paint.
Inspection trained my eyes to notice tiny changes in surface, light and shadow. That precision came with me into the studio. After ten years in oil and gas, I chose a different life because I had found a passion and calling in bringing the unseen to life.
A new practice, built by hand.
I create encounters.
I work across multiple subjects and materials, following each painting toward its own sense of presence.
Anatomy, light, expression and atmosphere all play an important part.
The encounter connects the work;
the way I create it remains open to discovery.
STUDIO
NOTES
Inside the making
A painting takes shape through small decisions: a shift in shadow, a trace of texture, the direction of a gaze. In the studio, those decisions accumulate until the surface begins to feel like a presence.
My practice moves between charcoal, graphite, pastel, acrylic, and oil. Each material changes the pace of the work. Brushes build soft transitions; small shifts in value and reflected light give the surface depth. Layer by layer, anatomy and expression come together until the subject feels present.
I enjoy the finished paintings. The final critique matters: time to look carefully, step back, and recognise when the presence is there.
