Mental Earthquakes

It has been over a month since I have posted. During that time, I have been hospitalized in a psych ward for safety, and I am now fighting a common cold. The cold will go away. Not so with the mental earthquakes.

Mental earthquakes happen quietly. No one can hear the agony within our heads. No one can hear the despair, the upheaval, the turmoil. And describing it is as painful as experiencing it, because one puts themselves in a super-vulnerable state.

Yesterday, I painted for a while. I felt like I was in heaven. I began to think of things in polar opposites - shadows and lights, lights and darks, detailed and fuzzy. I realized that while writing helps to process the earthquakes, painting does so even more. The interesting thing is that most people would never know what is going on in my head when they look at the painting.

Painting is a vulnerable, personal process. We put ourselves "out there", for everyone to see and feel. Thank goodness, not everyone gets it. that would be a disaster. But the people that do "get it" are part of the healing process. Without words, they help me heal.

Right now, I have lost my literal voice, due to the cold I have. I have not seen my therapist in weeks, and I am starving for counsel. I am raw from the hospitalization experience. So I write and paint in the safety of my home, where I can be as open as I want, and as vulnerable as I need to be.

With time, these past three weeks will be stored away in the "important life lessons" section of my brain. It is the little area where my raw edges live and learn. And my next art exhibit will honor the mental earthquakes, that rock my world, and those around me, without a single sound.

cathy

Coloring and Kids

This past weekend at the Mill, I had a coloring "contest" for kids to benefit the Chesapeake Bay Foundation. Only eight children participated, so I decided they were all winners, and made them all magnets from their colored fish. I only received three dollars in donations for the Bay, but the day was a success. Just watching the kids sucking on candy canes, and intently coloring was such a relief from the automated, technological nightmare we call modern life.

Every child took the task quite seriously. Colors were carefully chosen, and no one went out of the lines. One little girl even added cute squiggles and designs on her fish. One little girl wanted to color two different fish. A two year old carefully put the crayons away after she "finished". Such good manners!

And all of the parents patiently waited for their children to finish. Despite bad backs, schedules, and hunger, none of the children were rushed.

I hung all of their creations outside my studio. The ear-to-ear grins were priceless. As I made the magnets today, I wished I could see the look on their faces when each child received the package mailed to them. No propaganda (except a phone number), no sales pitch - just their artwork.

Children give me the feeling that the world is worth protecting, and life is worth living. Even on my darkest days, a child's smile, or chocolate smeared face cheers me up more than anything.

Cheers to kids,
Cathy

Inevitable Angst

We are helping our daughter to buy a house. Buying a house, however humble, is an outregeous experience. We have a fabulous buyer agent, who is unphased by the peculiar, annoying process of contract ratification.

This process is not for the faint of heart. My daughter, usually a bubbly, cheerful sort of young lady, has been reduced to a hand-wringing, withdrawn mess. As a mom, I am at a loss. My husband seems to operate on a different time/space continuum, and can usually get through to her. So they went out, and I left with my thoughts.

Angst such as this, I have discovered, is a destroyer of my creativity. Watching my daughter suffer through this mess of paperwork leaves me helpless, and the only images I can conjure up are not things I would want to paint. I can only think of life lessons, and sayings, and consolations.

So my half finished "critter path" sits idly as I try to figure out how to pick up a brush, and begin again. It occurs to me that I can pick up the brush. To create, one must ignore the obstacles - like angst- unless, of course, angst is the emotion you are looking for. I look for peace. And it occurs to me that, especially in these times, we must create our own peace.

So in this alone time, I can begin again, and let her dad worry about the angst. For now, I can make my own peace. At least for a few hours!

I hope whoever reads this, can also make their own peace, in the midst of a confusing and whirling dervish of a world. Like my brush, I hope you can find your door to peace.

Cathy

I Guess I am Famous!

I had an unwanted experience today, when I went to my studio at the Mill. I knew it would eventually happen, but I was hoping not today.

One of my framed prints was missing from the hallway wall. I looked for a note, I checked my messages, but it wasn't long before I realized that it had been stolen. At least the thief left the hooks and price tag. They must of had picture hooks at home, and it was obvious they didn't need the price tag.

It is a common practice to display one's art in the hallway at the Mill, and one of the charming features about the Mill. Everywhere you wander, you are met with an eclectic mix of eye candy. Around one corner may be colorful abstract pieces, and down the hall, several portraits of big-eyed children melt your heart.

I did all the necessary stuff - called security, called the police, got a case number, made sure nothing else was missing, and told all my neighbors. It took a lot of time. And I don't like to waste time, because time is all we have. And I know whoever took it will never be found, and it will not turn up anywhere - if it happens to turn up in the trash heap, then I might be a bit upset.

I figured that I must be famous at last. Why would someone steal a print (the original has been sold), unless they thought it had enormous value? That thought, of course, made me muse a bit, but it was most likely a patron of a nearby bar that had way too many beers, and was amused by the long shadows in the print, entitled, "Stretched Thin".

Anyway, for all of you out there, I have included a picture of the missing print. If you see it on a wall, it would be fun to ask the person where they got it. (I have sold a few!) The good news is, I can make more! The bad news is, that it was in a really nice frame.

So, for the time being, I am going to enjoy my fame. But to be safe, I put a few of the more expensive paintings in my studio - I don't want to be too famous!

Peace,
Cathy

The Sky is Falling

I have this idea for a painting I am working on. I was walking Lucy, and was suddenly taken aback by the beauty of the dark gray sky on the horizon, contrasting with the bright fall color. It looked as though the sky was falling.

In today's world, there are a lot of people that think the sky is falling. For some unfortunate souls, I am sure it is. Sometimes I feel like the sky is falling. But then, magically, I get a phone call or e-mail, and it makes everything better.

If you are given only lemons, and make lemonade, I think one can survive in today's world. So while the sky may be falling, there is a lot of beauty around us to contrast with the gray and bleak atmosphere. When the sky is gray, everything else looks great, by comparison.

When I finish this painting, "Falling Sky" (I like the pun with the Fall season), I will post it. Perhaps it will help someone see that good things are still all around us, despite the ailing economy, the costly wars, and the increasing price of everything we need to survive. I am reminded of my family and friends, and their unconditional love.

May you be surrounded by many hugs and smiles!
Cathy

making peace with Life

Lately, I have not been doing too well. I have death wishes, and need large quantities of sugar and chocolate to make it through the day.

I also need someone with me, to get me out of my head. During an extreme episode like this, being by myself is a disaster. Now I understand how solitary confinement breaks people down.

Everything is a challenge, from composing and printing a simple letter, to doing the laundry. In the midst of all this, I allow myself the "luxury" to paint whatever comes out - lousy, good, bad, hideous - it does not matter.

I pretend that I am in Cathy's Day program. I do silly non-productive, but mildly productive things. It really helps.

The brownies are out of the oven, courtey of my daughter. Their smell alone brings enormous comfort, and the hope that tomorrow will be better.

And it will be. I can sleep on that belief.

Peace,
Cathy

Computers and sanity

Just recently, my computer and wireless router were taken out in a wind storm. The wireless router was not a big deal. Getting a new computer, on the other hand, has been a maze of nightmarish challenges.

So, I am up and running, and despite backing-up my files, I am missing some of my artwork. As I download from the remote website (I have lost count of how many times), I relaize I have inadvertently created limited edition prints and cards. With all my pastels and acrylics missing, aka most of my work, what is already printed out is all there is.

Maybe this is a good thing. Another fresh start. Another new beginning. As I yield to the sorry fact that I may never be able to recover those files, I realize that perhaps this is a good thing - I am being propelled forward, not able to look back. For me, this is a good thing. I tend to get comfortable with what is. Now I have a chance to get comfortable with what may be.

I bought an external hard drive, so I don't have to go through this again. Once is enough!

Peace,
Cathy

Autumn and Older

Okay. "I am the worst blogger on the planet".

There, now let's move on. It's autumn. It's rainy, and it's cold. It seems to happen every year. But this year, it seems different. I am 50 years old. I get the AARP magazine. I take vitamins for 50+. I am going through menopause. I am officially all gray.

But wow, life seems so fresh and new. I realize I don't have to impress anyone. I don't have to settle for bad service. I know who my friends are. I like my fingernails naked.

And the colors of fall seem more amazing, magical. Everything does. My puppy is getting big girl teeth. It is like magic. Life seems to be one, big, magical mystery.

No, I am not stoned, I am stone sober. But happy. Happy that I have a lot of experience to pull me through the inevitable irritations of life. Happy that I have seen so much change in the world. Amazed, in fact. But also saddened that so many things haven't changed.

My paintings are entering a new phase. I don't know what it is, but I'll get back to you when I figure it out.

And I will try to make it soon.

Peace,
Cathy

Getting Things Done....or not

I have two receptions coming up in a few weeks, to introduce my friends and clients to my new studio space. And while I have new work, the reality of operating a studio, shop, a home, taking care of a puppy, making prints and cards, and the sheer fact that a million things always need to be done, and everything is happening at once, means that very little "making art" is getting done.

Or is it? I mentioned last time about filling my well. Now my well runneth over. I am realizing that there will never be enough cards made, that clients can order prints, that I don't have to sweep the floor every time leaves are tracked in, and I don't have to cook all that much. But, I need to paint before I lose my mind!

While I can search for creative ways to do the laundry, the fact remains that I must paint to stay sane. Brushes full of paint seem to have a magical healing power, and the very act of making strokes on the paper, canvas, or anything seems to calm my frazzled nerves. It is an addiction. I can go several days after creating something, but then I start to lose it. Tonight will be a painting night. The puppy is exhausted from walking, digging, getting a bath, training, playing, and acting like a little terrorist. Once the laundry comes out of the drier, it is my time.

Must be boring reading this. Just ordinary stuff. Life is pretty much ordinary stuff. That is a good thing. I think it is important to find meaning in the ordinary stuff. Then, when really extraordinary things happen to us, we don't expect them, and they mean a lot more. So, in the course of an ordinary day, I make time to find meaning in all the little occurrences. After all, every load of laundry is different - I am always amused by what I find that comes out of the pockets! Peace and cheers, keep the faith.

Lucy

Dick and I got a new puppy this past weekend. We needed a canine friend after Dakota departed this earth. Lucy is quite a handful! She is a wheaten terrier, and right now, a furball baby.

Lucy has taught me many things in the past 36 hours - that I can get by with a lot less sleep; that my eyeglasses are tougher than I thought; that puppies are eating/sleeping/pooping machines! I never meant for "Lucy" to rhyme with "poopy", but there you have it.

She is also helping me to fill my well. The grass in our yard has come to life. Lucy lives so "in the moment" that it is teaching me to do the same. I have to! Ironically, I couldn't keep up with her if I didn't live in the moment!

Soon (hopefully), Lucy will be a great studio mate. But for now, she is like a little duck, following me around, crying when I disappear, and hopping all over the place when I magically return. As soon as she stays still for more than a millisecond, I will include a photo. May take a while! Cathy

Electric Cars

For some reason, I have been feeling really, really guilty about my carbon footprint - especially driving my car. Of course, everyone is feeling the pain of high fuel prices, and everything is going up in price. I can't think of one thing that has not gone up in price - except at the local produce stand, where time seems to stand still. What a relief it is to walk in to the open air and dirt floor, buy some corn and cherries, pick up a half dozen sunflowers, and still get change for a ten. Okay, the other thing that has not gone up in price is my artwork. Since the public has little income to dispose of, my artwork prices have actually come down a bit. Just a little bit, don't get too excited!

I started to research electric cars today. We get our electric from a nuclear power plant. So an electric car makes a lot of sense, from a green standpoint, as well as from a cost standpoint. I found one car, a nice looking sedan, that will go fast, and take car of most of my commutes, and daily run-arounds. It re-charges on a 220V circuit - just like our dryer! Pretty amazing when you think about it.

Dick and I just got back from our annual summer trip to Ithaca, NY, where we hang out with some family and friends, and pretty eat ourselves into a happy stupor. This trip was full of little kid activities - picking up shells from Lake Cayuga, swinging on a tree swing, picking up railroad spikes off the train tracks, and exploring an ancient gorge up the road. the weather was cool, the nights chilly, and the flowers and wildlife were just amazing. It was a much needed break from the frenetic pace of metro life. Sleeping, eating, and playing for five days is the best prescription for what ails you!

Then came the 200 mile drive back. My nine year old car, bless its heart, just guzzles gas now, and I am thinking the next car will be electric. Hopefully, a model will come out in time so that we can keep this gasoline car for long trips, and as a second, hopefully seldom used vehicle.

So tomorrow, after doing loads of laundry, and grocery store shopping, I am looking forward to getting back to my studio, with fresh ideas, and a new perspective. And I hope I have more paintings to post, and ideas to share. Summer is such a slow time for shoppers, and the rising fuel costs are not helping the situation. So with a selection of small stuff for tight pockets, I hope to make some art that folks still feel like they can afford. While sleeping and eating are good for the soul, so is art. Art helps to dust off the pollution that we find ourselves in. Art gives us hope for the future, that we will still find beauty in our minds and souls. When that electric car becomes available, it will be like a piece of artwork for me - a breathe of fresh air.

The Time Has Come

I have come to realize that perhaps I am not good at keeping a daily blog, or even weekly for that matter. But since I enjoy it, I will continue. This forum gives me the opportunity to bare my soul, and share my innermost thoughts with total strangers.

Doesn't sound like a good deal? Maybe it is. Only through self-expression can we move forward. My art is a great vehicle for expressing my ideas and feelings, but the written word will continue to have tremendous power in our lives.

So here's the deal...it is time to talk about a rather "fringe" topic in society - that of mental health. I can envision readers rolling their eyes, getting uncomfortable, maybe even thinking, "here is just another wacko". But bear with me for a few sentences, and consider the impact that mental health has on our society. Stress is a mental health issue, and is the leading cause of workplace absenteeism in our society. We are bombarded with new technology on a daily basis, and expected to learn new skills which even 10 years ago did not exist. Our children are glued to screens instead of books, and texting instead of talking.

In the midst of all this, there is an alarming epidemic of humans who have mental health issues. Maybe you do. I certainly do. I struggle with a brain chemical disorder on a daily basis. My health plan treats my illness like it is not quite legitimate, making the task of seeking help very difficult, and inevitably, quite costly.

We are often frightened by what we do not understand. But unlike a new remote, or fancy cell phone that we can ignore, the problem of mental health cannot be shoved aside. Mental health problems are a silent epidemic that are only noticed when someone with a mental health problem is messing up - breaking the law, behaving in unusual ways, or drawing attention to themselves.

Most of us with brain illnesses are able to navigate through society quietly, using tools we have learned to survive, or even thrive in our complicated world. Some are not so fortunate. I am quite fortunate - I have a support system, good physicians, and I am able to make art. On the downside, I cannot keep a rigid, demanding schedule, or be superwoman anymore. Despite my health issues, I can still contribute to society and my family. Art has given me that opportunity.

If you are still reading this, you are either crazy like me, and understand, or are perhaps curious...or enjoying the voyeurism that blogging provides. It doesn't matter to me. What matters is that somewhere out there, someone read the message that they are not alone. Or someone out there learned a little bit about mental health.

Perhaps you won't come back. That is okay. I still plan to write when I am able, talking about boats, art, and common struggles. In fact, over the past few weeks, stories are piling up! That is okay, too. Just the fact that I am out on the boat, or making art is a healthy thing. When the time comes to sit in front of this screen, I will be back. I still want to talk about pea soup fog, and pricing art work. But not today.

Peace and prosperity,
Cathy

Being Humble and Eating Dirt

It has been very hot here lately, the kind of heat that makes one a little bit on the edgy side, and lowers your electrolyte levels to "dumbness". Of course, the A/C always goes out when it is at least 95F, and 95 per cent humidity. And, it happens during a big event - with me, it is moving on to my new studio.

Yesterday, my Mom and I tackled the task of putting two chairs together, "Relaxing" chairs, they are ironically called. After two hours of struggling with the first chair, we agreed to put the unfinished wreckage into a corner, and pretend it never happened.

Then, Julian showed up - a bright eyed, gregarious young fellow, who just turned the ripe old age of eleven. He asked eagerly if we were moving in, and I blurted out", yeah, would you like to help?" (It just came out.) Julian said "Sure, I will ask my mom", and before I knew it, he was eagerly looking to us to give him something to do.

I felt bad about asking him to put the chairs together, so I made a deal with him, that if he was successful, I would pay him, and if he wasn't successful, but tried really hard, I would still pay him a modest sum. Wow, the kid was really excited. So I gave him our abandoned effort, and the unopened box with the second chair, some tools, and let him have at it.

Julian put both chairs together in less than an hour. The whole time, he cheerfully made comments, offered ideas, asked questions, and gave advice. Not once did he get frustrated, question his own abilities, or even get close to giving up.

When he finished the chairs, we sat in them, and relaxed. Julian helped me take out trash, and asked if he could do anything else, and we wouldn't have to pay him, because it was so much fun. Wow. A fresh outlook, positivity, smiles, and agreeableness go a long way. At some point, we were discussing getting sick, and Julian said he never got sick. I asked him if he ate a lot of dirt when he was "little". He said, "Yes, and I still do. Boosts the immune system."

Julian may not realize it, but today I feel more capable, competent, and I will take things, and myself, a lot less seriously. I may even eat some dirt, just for good measure. Thank you, Julian!

Cathy

Moving On and More Money

From time to time, we all have to move - to a new house, to a new job, or perhaps onto new relationships.

Currently, I am moving into a new art studio at Savage Mill. (Of course, the rent is higher.) More money. I tend to have high expectations, but I have quickly learned that high expectations cannot be applied to moving. One would think this is obvious, given the fact that I have completed all sorts of moves, but with each new situation, hope springs eternal - until the inevitable problems crop up.

The first step is getting maintenance work done to the space. Usually, the last tenant seems to always have strange taste in wall colors, so painting is required. Since my studio does double duty as a gallery, I bought paint in a color I liked for the maintenance crew to use. More money. After a week, the remaining blood red wall is staring at me defiantly. Work was delayed because the HVAC system wasn't working, so everyone's space was like a sauna, and the maintenance crew was feverishly working to help the merchants and customers cool, in more ways than one.

Until the walls are complete, the floor cannot be cleaned. Until the floors are cleaned, furniture and art supplies cannot be moved in. Then there is the old carpet my husband and I managed to roll up to be removed, which I keep tripping over. And the wall sized mirror, just an accident waiting to happen.

Then there is the lighting situation. The space has great ceiling lights, but no wall switches. A step ladder is needed to turn them on and off, so an electrician has to be hired to put in wall switches. More money. (The tenant in the space next door just ran extension cords to the wall outlets, but the look is not what I am going after.)

Since there were no wall switches, the prior tenant left the lights on continuously, and all of the bulbs are dead. More money. (I found this out the hard way, but I did get a free electroshock treatment.) Some of the dead bulbs are actually fused into the fixtures, so the lighting fixtures may be ruined, which means new lights will need to be installed. More money.

After cleaning up broken light bulbs, I left. It is Friday. My husband and I are taking a long weekend on our boat, and I can paint, and put all this on the back burner for three days. Some say I set my expectations too high. But how can great things be achieved without great expectations? Life is full of mediocrity. Every once in a while, it is nice to see high expectations realized - but not when moving!

Lesson learned. Actually four lessons - one (1) needs to be patient, or (2) just do it yourself, and (3) plan to throw a lot of money at whatever you are trying to do. Kind of like owning a boat. And last but not least, (4) expect the best, but prepare for the worst!

To all those who are moving on, good luck!

Cathy

Obsessions

Let's face it, we all obsess at some time or another about something. It is easy to obsess, but not so easy to avoid the trap of replaying tapes in our head over and over again. Eventually, enough is enough, and we move on.

I frequently have obsessions in subject matter for my art. Seems I fall in love with something, and paint it over and over again, changing the size, the palette, or the composition. I don't fight this obsession; I just go with the flow, until something else catches my attention.

For a while, it was beaches - beaches in the day, at dusk, with people, with dogs, natural beaches, grassy beaches, Hawaiian beaches, beaches with palm trees, and beaches from different perspectives. Then it was river grass - in pastel, in acrylic, big format, small format, long paintings, small paintings, multiple panel paintings.

I have "moved on" to forsythia, and I can feel it developing to other colors besides yellow - small panels, big panels....you get the idea.

I don't dwell on why this happens, and why I succumb to these "obsessions". Perhaps they are not obsessions as much as explorations. The more I paint, the more I want to explore the subject matter in different ways, until I tire of it and move on. It is not that I think I have mastered anything, or caught the essence - usually, something else just catches my psyche, and I find myself going down a different road.

Life is about taking winding roads, and roads that sometimes seem to go nowhere. But usually a road goes somewhere. And just maybe that pot of gold is down that road. Usually though, I just find cool stuff, stay for a while, pack my bags, and drive on.

Life is a journey, and the more roads we explore, the richer our lives can be. Perhaps that explains why I have so may art supplies for ideas on roads not yet traveled. Thank goodness in life journeys, there are no rising gas prices, no expensive cars, no traffic lights, and no accidents. But there is also no insurance that we make the "right" choices, because there are no right or wrong choices. There are only the choices we make.

Happy traveling,
Cathy

Surface protection

Lately, I feel like I have been inhaling a lot of chemicals - fixative and varnish, mostly. My daughter painted a huge oil about two years ago, and I am just getting around to varnishing it. Her thin layers of paint needed protection against the ravages of time, handling, and framing. While spraying is the easiest approach, I can tell I am a novice at this stage of a painting's life.

This is truly a labor of love. While oil paintings endure for years, conservators know that protection of the surface is vital for insuring a lasting treasure.

As I apply the sixth coat, I think about what humans need to do to protect our environment. We seem to be able to protect our valuables - we insure them, we make sure we lock our doors, we clean them regularly (well, not so much, maybe). Some of us try to take care of our bodies and souls. Then why is it so difficult for us to take care of our natural resources? Why do we continue to practice destructive behaviors, by driving gas hogs, by not carpooling, by leaving lights on, by eating lots of red meat, or by applying more fertilizer than we really need? Is it that we think our world is so vast and unlimited that mother nature can clean up after us forever? Or perhaps we are simply at a loss - we got ourselves into a lifestyle that is at odds with nature, and we don't know how to get out of it.

As I varnish this gem that my daughter created, I think about how we can protect the gem we live on. My art work tries to capture the beauty that we now have. But the very act of making artwork also creates pollution. So ironic. I am glad I don't think about this stuff too frequently, or I would be crazier than I already am. But I do my best - turn off lights, shop at nearby locations, buy local produce, hire local repair and service companies, and keep my thermostat at uncomfortable levels. And I reuse frames, glass, canvases, and recycle paper and plastic.

This is what happens when an artist works in solitude for too long! Back to varnishing, and preserving a part of my daughter's legacy. Hopefully, her descendants will have an earth to enjoy as much as we do.

Peace.
Cathy

Photographing Artwork

Although I am on sabbatical for a few weeks, I could not stay away from my computer! So, I thought I would share some not-so-novel revelations about photographing artwork.

While working in watercolor and pastels, I was able to take reasonable photos of my work, for note cards, small prints, and show submissions. Then came the acrylics - what a different ball of wax!

One of the things I like about acrylics is the juicy, glossy texture that is easily created. That very property makes photographing acrylic paintings a challenge. Since the work is often too large for me to scan, (which doesn't seem to work well either), I have tried to photograph my work in a variety of conditions and settings. The result is that the glossy areas are glaring, almost daring me to capture their likeness.

Now I understand why photographers and giglee printers make the big bucks! Since my acrylics are still in the experimental stage, I am reluctant to spend a lot of money on professional photography of my pieces. So, while explaining the shortcomings of my own expertise behind the camera, I humbly post new work with the warning - "you just have to see it in person". Lame, yes. But it will have to do for a while.

Any advice will be embraced. I have considered a mat finish, which will make the task enormously easier, but I just can't bring myself to tone down my work. Eventually, I will have to find another way.

Enjoy another beautiful day in paradise! Cathy

The circle of life - in memory of Glen Spaid

This has been a sad week. The founder of my husband's company passed away. He was loved by many, and he enriched so many lives in so many ways.

I just want to take the time to celebrate Glen Spaid's memory. An avid fisherman, he took my husband on many trips in the Chesapeake Bay, on the "Ace of Spaids". Glen always caught the largest fish! Just last weekend, he went fishing twice with friends. Even at 80 years of age, he came into the office, and talked with many employees, joking around, and spreading his happiness for life. He went out doing what he loved.

I met him when my husband first started working at the company, more than 23 years ago. He and his wife, Alma, took us out to dinner. Glen always made us feel at ease, and always had a smile on his face.

Last fall, he and Alma bought two of my paintings at a little show I had in West Annapolis. I was just so honored to have them come out on such a rainy night. Last evening, Alma commented how my artwork makes her smile when she looks at it everyday. I cried at the notion that I could bring happiness to others, by marks and strokes on paper. It made me realize that we all have the capacity to touch each other in ways that are a uniquely human experience. What we say and do ultimately has so much power to make someone smile, laugh, or cry.

Funerals give us the opportunity to see people we haven't seen in a while. Although the occasion is somber, the sharing of stories and memories helps to ease the pain. Kids grow tall; we all get gray hair; we all are a bit older, and can't help but think that this is our opportunity to make a difference in the world. It also shows us that we really need each other, and how important it is to "just be there" for someone, when life throws us challenges.

Glen and Alma's five capable children, and grandchildren now run the company. My sincerest sympathy goes out to all of them and their family, as they come to grips with his unexpected departure. I hope they all know that many people are here to help them through all of this. My husband is working hard at the office, to help out as best he can - and I will continue painting, perhaps to bring a smile to someone's life. I am humbled by the circle of life. And with each passing, the realization of how precious life is really hits home.

Bless everyone with love and happiness, Cathy

Changes and souls

Life is all about change. Seasons change, dreams change, technology changes - and we change.

Just when you think you got it all figured out, life changes in ways that we cannot predict or control. Doors close, and other doors open. Sometimes only a window opens, and we have to leap through, trusting that we will land on our feet.

Why is a painter writing about such things? Because art is all about change, and change is necessary to grow. Our art reflects our growth, not only as an artist, but as a person. Each piece of art I produce has a part of me in it, a part of my soul. My art visually reflects my journey.

This past week has been a week of intense reflection. I have had some notable changes in my life, and around me. Paintings are flying around in my head, like butterflies - doors opening, doors closing, people running, people hiding, and people leaping for joy. Visions of whirl pools, with birds flying out, and grasses blowing in the wind. This is the kind of art that only we may fully witness, whether in our heads, or on the canvas. Others may or may not "get it". Humans are also gifted with the written word, and although a painting may speak a thousand words, for some, translation is needed. Art is a language unto itself.

It has also been a week of sharing thoughts with family and friends. One of the conversations involved souls - tender souls, wise souls, old souls. Each of these souls handles change in a different, yet important way. Our souls are our essence, and are revealed in everything we do.

I am happy to share my soul, through my art and actions. And when others share their souls - that part of them that is most precious - I am humbled and grateful beyond any expression than art or words can yield.

I had a show in March I titled "Journeys with Nature". (Some of the work is featured on my website.) Each piece had deep meaning for me. And some of the work touched the souls of others.

Back to change - the March show artworks were created with pastels. As I begin a new chapter in acrylics, people are asking why. I have plenty of practical reasons (the dust, the framing headaches, the problems in shipping), but the primary reason was that it was time for a change. Time to leap out the window, and hope for a soft landing - only then, can the new journey begin.

This has been an eclectic post. I found that I could not separate the topics, because everything is mixing together. Eventually, something new will come out of it. Stay with me for the ride!

Paint yourself a great day,
Cathy

Solitude and Rainy Days

It is pouring here today. The trees are dancing, and the vegetation is an intense and lusty green, like the kind of green that art buffs tend to dismiss as "not realistic". The birds are at our feeders, so it will probably rain most of the day. (During brief showers, the birds hunker down under bushes and lawn chairs.)

I love days like these. I feel a universal permission to enjoy the sound of the rain, and paint my heart out. The rain becomes my music, a constant in the uncertainty outside in the world. No matter how much technology changes, the rain always sounds, well, like rain. The trees take on saturated colors, and the earth is cleansed of dust and grass clippings. Rain is like a bath for the earth.

We humans can take a cue from this natural experience, to slow down, and bathe ourselves in silence, and refresh our souls. Part of my renewal is painting. I hope you may find a renewal that feeds your body, mind and soul, and partake of it often. It is there for the taking! peace, Cathy

Messy Painting

Last night, I had the privilege of giving a talk to seven eager Girl Scouts about being a professional artist. The young ladies are working towards a visual arts merit badge.

It has been a long time since my daughter was that age, and I had obviously forgotten how interactive and uninhibited children are. So, when I launched into my brief speech about how I became a "professional" artist, their eyes glazed over with that distinct "boring" look. So I started to ask questions, which led to more questions, and one youngster asked if I would paint for them.

So, I grabbed a blank canvas, laid out some yellows and blues, and started mixing. As I put swatches of the different greens on the canvas, a big-eyed girl asked if they could paint, too. "Sure", I said without thinking that acrylics don't come out of scout uniforms. I nervously told the moms that you gotta crack some eggs to make an omelet, and they relaxed. I gave each scout a small panel, a bit of direction, and just let it happen.

The night was transformed into a self-esteem building workshop - all from some messy globs of paint. I talked about the joy of the process of painting, how there are no bad paintings, just "starts", and that we all have creativity built into us as human beings. Each of us has special gifts, just waiting to be discovered.

We laid all the canvases on a big piece of Kraft paper. I was floored. The colors and imagination were beautiful. As the masterpieces dried, the girls followed me like baby ducks into the utility room, so we could clean the brushes (and ourselves). The apprentices watched me clean the brushes like I was doing magic tricks. It reminded me how much like sponges are children are.

What started as an opportunity for me to give back to the community, ended up being more food for my soul than I could have ever imagined. As I tidied up the studio after they left, I felt like a child myself, eager to make a new "start", and engage in some messy, satisfying painting.

Greetings! My Introduction

Hello fellow travelers!

This is my very first post, as I bravely step out into the world of blogging. I hope you find some interesting, entertaining, and artful moments to share with me.

I am an artist in the Chesapeake Bay region, and I will be posting acrylic paintings, and talking about our adventures on our boating trips. While I am a slow painter, I seem to get a lot done while "out at sea". More of my work can be seen on my website.

I am taking a leap, and switching from pastels to acrylics. Fellow artists will understand why...maybe not, but acrylics are easier to ship, take with you in the field, and less costly to frame. Plus, acrylics are very tough - some believe tougher than oil paintings. And, they dry fast, making them ideal for working while out on the boat.

Thank you for getting this far! I have no idea what I am getting into, but I am sure it will be exciting, unpredictable, and fun.

Paint yourself a great day!

Cathy