When Vance Theoret holds a rough piece of soapstone in his hand, it’s not a lifeless piece of rock he sees.

Through the eyes of the 100 Mile sculptor, it’s a myriad of possibilities waiting to come alive with the touch of his masterful hands.

When Theoret gets down to work, he brings an element of his

Mohawk decent to the work bench, styling his sculptures to emulate nature and its noble creatures.

If asked to name his signature trademark, Theoret would say it’s the bear. He’s studied the musculature, the proportions and the expressions of the emperor of the forest. Then he renders and simplifies those characteristics down to a unique style that is undeniably his own.

His uncomplicated bear sculptures, with their sleek and flawless finish, are humourous and light-hearted and, when the opportunity arises, portray a characteristic of their owner.

In the summer of 2008 at his show booth at the Calgary Stampede, Theoret’s work caught the eye of a co-ordinator for the 2009 World Skills Competition that recently took place in Calgary.

For some time, the man had been scouting possibilities for appropriate awards that could be presented to winners of the prestigious competition. He found what he was looking for in Theoret’s bear piece called “The Trouble with Tracy.”

Recently, it was presented as the Albert Vidal Award to the first-place winner, Tan Thiam Shui of Singapore, who was the highest-scoring competitor in all of the 45 categories featured at the competition.

“I was pretty honoured,” says the self-taught artist.

It was another dab of icing on the cake made of hard work, persistence and a natural affinity for what he does.

Theoret started his love affair with art in the late 1970s as a young man of 20-something. Fruitless flings with painting and drawing left the door open for other media and in the late 80s when an artist friend suggested stone sculpture and offered pointers, he dug in.

“I knew I was in the right medium when I got into stone. I already had a good feel for three dimensional through experience with clay.”

During the early years of drawing and painting, he’d applied to attend the Ontario College of Art and was rejected. So, with no opportunity for formal instruction, he learned to carve and sculpt stone through his own mistakes.

“In hindsight, it was probably a blessing not to have gone to art school. There, you learn from other artists and, as much as they foster you to become individual, you pick up their ways and have to unlearn them later when you’re on your own.

“When you’re self-taught, you learn by doing things you wouldn’t normally do and naturally develop a strong style of your own.”

Theoret’s first piece was a loon carved in soapstone. It sold within a week and fuelled a fire to do more.

“At that point, I thought at the very least I’d be able to pay for my hobby.

“Then, someone suggested I take my stuff to craft shows. A light bulb went on and I thought maybe I could do this as more than a hobby. By year number 2, I was at a show every weekend in October and November.”

Theoret knew that, as for a line of work, sculpting stone was where he wanted to be. At the same time, as a husband and father, he didn’t know how to pull it off without subjecting his family to the starving-artist routine.

What followed was a 10-year progression, going from part-time artist and full-time “real” job to a 50-50 split and, finally, to a full-time artist with a part-time job on the side.

His career took on a new dimension 13 years ago when

he hooked up with

a group of four

artists who call themselves Western Lights Artist Group.

Theoret is still with them as the lone sculptor among four painters. They attend shows together, enjoy the camaraderie, which comes with belonging to a group, and share the work that comes with the business end of being a career artist.

“In the art business, talent is the smallest part of the equation. Hard work and marketing are the keys.”

From start to finish, he’s got creating an average-sized sculpture down to a relatively short time.

“Each piece takes three days and 20 years to get to the place where you can do that. It took time to learn where to make the cuts without making more work for myself.”

Between sales in his adjacent gallery and commissioned pieces, Theoret is among the elite artists who can support themselves comfortably on their work.

His pieces generally sell between

$500 and $2,500, with his largest, weighing in at about 500 pounds and fetching $10,000.

When it comes to picking a favourite, Theoret says it’s the pieces he’s able to incorporate some kind of personalization that rank the highest.

Pieces like a tasteful ash urn he was asked to do by a woman who lost her husband in a plane crash. He designed the vessel as a stone bear propped atop a pile of slate slabs

that conceal the human ashes.

Theoret always looks forward to taking his sculptures to shows because that’s where he gets to connect with clients on a personal level.

“When people buy art, they want a little piece of you, too. They want to know about you and you have to be able to talk about yourself,” he says, adding that bits of information he picks up through meeting his client go a long way in making the sculpture more personal for the buyer and more interesting for him.

In his 22 years as a sculptor, Theoret has learned to keep things light and one way he goes about it is incorporating humour into a piece whenever he can.

“I get ideas from my dog and from watching cartoons. I study human behaviour and incorporate that, too. Using humour grounds me and ensures I’m not taking myself too seriously. It keeps the ego out.”

While he never ceases to be amazed by the beauty that can be drawn from a piece of stone, Theoret doesn’t get caught up in the end product.

“It’s the journey that counts. Not the destination.”