Dennis Mantin was born in Toronto in 1958. However, he grew up in rural Nova Scotia and Cape Breton, where he was introduced to painting and literature.

Mantin left the east coast for Alberta in 1980 and landed a job as a nude model at the Banff School of Fine Arts with acclaimed American Painter and Sculpter Eric Fischl. Meeting Fischl opened his feelings and eyes to really seeing color and tone; even in the most unexpected places.

In 1992, after having returned to Toronto, Mantin dedicated himself to painting and had the good fortune to meet the extraordinary Canadian poetic Painter Paul Fournier, which ignited a lifelong creative friendship. With Fournier’s mentoring, Dennis mounted his first solo exhibition in an antique store in The Beaches neighborhood of Toronto.

After a decade of painting and exhibitions, raising a family and life circumstances forced Mantin to give his attention elsewhere.

In May of 2014, Mantin renewed his relationship with painting and was invited to share Paul Fournier’s studio, which culminated in a solo exhibition at the Abbozzo Gallery at 401 Richmond Street. The exhibition was called The Meditation and alluded to Mantin’s recent interest and dedication to the practice and study of mindfulness Meditation.

While working on The Meditation, Mantin was encouraged to reexamine his writings, which stimulated a revision of a short screenplay from 20 years earlier.

The short film, a 15-minute drama entitled The Meditation, was written, directed, and produced by Mantin in 2017 and featured world renowned actor Jonathan Hyde of the Royal Shakespearen Academy. Jonathan won best supporting actor at the Top Shorts Online Film Festival, and Dennis received an honorable mention for narrative at the same festival. The film received the Award of Excellence from the Canada Shorts Film Festival in 2017.

Dennis started his WordPress blog in 2013 and has over 2000 posts in the decade that followed.

In the autumn of 2023, Dennis will publish his first novel, ‘LOOK THEM IN THE EYES’ with Canadian publisher Friesen Press.

Dennis is a single father, currently living in Toronto with his 12 years old daughter Zylia and their cat Ned.

Dennis Mantin

Owned by: Zylia Tourny-Mantin

Dennis Mantin

Owned by: Robert Jack

Owned by: Steven and Lisa Morrison

I moved into the ground floor apartment at 77 Laxton with Al one floor above me and his son Mark one floor above Al; without incident.

After a few days, fears of running into Al faded into the distant foggy memories of past experiences.

I settled into a routine of shift work and Candice once or twice a week. She had a weird habit of calculating dollar value whenever we had sex. After she shared this tally with me the third or fourth time, I asked.

“So, you want this to be a hooker/john type relationship?” Then, the Candy experiences faded with Al into the mists of the past. Mark shared more Al stories with me, but I never saw much of either of them after that. I was asleep when I heard Al’s voice coming through my ceiling.

“I brought you into this world, and I can take you out! I will rip your throat out with my bare teeth!”

He repeated this a dozen times before I got up, dressed, went out my door, climbed the stairs, and kicked open Al’s front door.

Al slowly turned to face me. He was barely able to stand. Red faced in his underwear, drunk, and raged. He was holding a quart bottle of half consumed spirits. I walked towards him slowly, wagging my finger towards him and yelling. I stopped when I was right in his face.

“Al! If you don’t shut the fuck up and let me sleep I’m going to rip out your throat with my bare teeth… do you understand me Al?

Al’s eyes began to water. His arms shot out in an attempt to give me a hug. I stepped aside.

Finally, he said, ‘Dennis! Where you been?’

I burst out laughing and left. In that moment, Maltese Al was the loneliest man I had ever seen. I saw the price he’d paid for being a narcissistic abusive bullying cunt…

I moved somewhere soon after. I can’t remember the details. Wherever it was, it wasn’t with Maltese Al.

Dennis Mantin

Mark seemed resigned to his fate. He cleared his throat…

“I was 4 and my sister was 18 months when Mom caught Dad fucking the 14 year old babysitter. She hit him over the head with a cast iron frying pan and gathered us up and took us over to our grandparents’ house.

“Mom went back to gather up some things between 2 and 3 in the morning when she was sure he’d be passed out from drinking.  She was right. Al was unconscious in his underwear on the sofa.

“After she packed up what she needed, she went to the kitchen and got the easy-off oven cleaner. She pulled down his underwear and applied the chemical cleaner over Al’s cock and balls. She left the container on the table beside him. Al didn’t wake up for hours. By the time he did, his junk was swollen up to 3 times its normal size.

“Al drove himself to the police station… stood in the middle of the precinct… dropped his pants and screamed.

‘Look what that bitch did to me! Look what that bitch did to me!!’

“He told me he couldn’t have sex for over a year. He sold his part of his business for $750, 000.00 and fucked off to Malta. He bought into a Limousin business, and that lasted 18 years until someone cut his brake lines and almost killed him. He left Malta fearing for his life. The word was that his taste for young girls hadn’t gone away.”

“There’s something wrong with my father. There was something wrong with his father, too. His father lived in a cave in Malta for the last 20 years of his life. My grandmother delivered him a tray of food every morning until he died in that cave. This is my legacy. I don’t know if I have what they have or not.

“Wow! I don’t know what to say… but I do know that I can’t spend another minute with Al.”

“I get it. The bad news is that room I said you could have tomorrow… won’t be ready until next week.”

“Fuck!”

“I do have an alternative… There’s a 2 bedroom on the first floor. You can take it for $800/month.”

“What about Al?”

“Al won’t know. Fuck Al. He won’t ever know you’re there.”

It seemed like the stupidest idea ever; but that never stopped me before. I took the first floor apartment…