Yoga and Art

In tonight's yoga class, we focused on introspection. It was interesting how hard it is to not think about things outside of yourself. But as I continued breathing and softening, images came forth that I wish I could create on canvas - images of light, and my soul reaching to the light; images of peace, and my heart outstretched to the peace.

For the first time in a while, I felt completely relaxed, whole, and renewed. Yoga is a practice. And as we continue to practice, we receive more benefit from that practice.

Art is similar - the more we practice, the more we receive from making art. It is not just about getting "better". It is about becoming more aware, more in tune with what our art is. Practice allows meditation to take place while we are doing familiar techniques or strokes. Practice allows us to get lost in the art, to get into the zone of just being and making art.

Yesterday, a private from the Army at Ft. Meade came into my studio to practice photography. This 19 year old was destined to be a combat photographer. As she moved about the studio, I painted, and painted and painted. for a short time, I forgot she was there. Out of the quiet came a question, and I realized that I had been in that special place, totally absorbed in my work. She had taken over 100 photographs while I was in art-land!

So much more could be accomplished if we could just be in the moment, and not judge, and accept what is. Allowing ourselves to just be present is a gift many people rarely give themselves. Yet, our beings need to just "be". Relaxing our mind, our bodies, and our hearts gets us in touch with our soul's needs.

I finished the painting I was working on that day. The simple sand dunes and grasses in the late afternoon sun gave me a sense of renewal. I hope the painting has the same effect on you.

Artfully yours,

Cathy

Happiness is Not Real Until it is Shared

Last evening, Dick and I watched "Into the Wild". In a young man's search for what it means to be human, and the meaning of our existence, he ventures across country, and into Alaska. Along the way, he meets many people who offer love, companionship, and a sense of belonging. Yet, each time he gets close to those he meets, he moves on, insearch of the "truth". All across the country, he breaks the heart of everyone he touches, poeple that are longing for love.

After a long, grueling trip to the Alaska wildnerness, he manages to survive, until he eats a poisonous plant. As he lay dying, he finally discovers that happiness is not real, unless it is shared. Having gained this wisdom, he dies in peace.

Art is not really art until, it too, is shared. Art is an intimate expression, and unless another human looks upon it, to enjoy it, or ponder its meaning, it has no context in the world. This is not to say that our art has no meaning unless shared - for art can satisfy one's soul in a profound way. But the marks on a paper or canvas, or a film, or a dance, only become art when another soul experiences the creation.

"Into the Wild" reminded me of how crucial human relationships are, and how we may unknowingly touch other people. Through art, we have a gift to touch other people in many ways, many times without evening knowing we have. As an artist, it is important to speak our truth, so that when we touch others, it is in a meaningful way.

Artfully yours,

Cathy Harville

Working in Cycles

I have just had the extreme pleasure and luck to be on a creating binge. Then, without warning, the veil of depression hit me like a two by four in the head. Bammmm!!!!! Now I feel like I can't paint a thing.

So, I decided to change my perspective. In separating feelings from thoughts, our thoughts can become clearer. Even though I feel inept, I am capable. Even though I may feel useless, I have a sacred contract to fulfill. Even though I may be physically dragging, I can still ponder, and read, and think.

We are sometimes so caught up in doing, that we forget we need time to be. To just be is to experience the moment fully, and to be fully present. In that moment, we are whole and complete as we are in every moment, whole and complete.

I wish I could take credit for the above, but life has taught me many good lessons - yoga, therapy, friends, and books, have all shaped who I am.

Back to cycles - nature is cyclical. Night follows day, the moon goes through its phases, the tides change, the seasons come and go. Why it is then, that humans are freaked out by our cycles? We all have cycles of feeling good, and feeling poor, feeling confident, and feeling like a failure. Depression and mania, illness and health...the list is endless.

I think the key to coping with down cycles, or any unpleasant time, is to maintain perspective. Step back, and listen. Listen to what the universe is saying, to what the divine is trying to tell us. It is in these moments that we are fully human, these quiet moments when our cycles are changing.

So when my creativity plummets, other areas of my life take over. As I am doing now, I often write, or read, or nap. Folding laundry can be comforting. And I wait, for the cycle to change.

Artfully yours,

Cathy

To Draw or not to Draw?

Below is a response I sent to Robert Genn, author of "Painters Keys" and "Love Letters to Art". He recently published a letter on drawing, and I thought I would share my response with you.

Greetings Robert,

I hope you are happy that I agree with you about drawing. (LOL) I love to sketch very loosely, more like a controlled doodling, but drawing is, well, boring to me. I am not good at it, so I make elaborate grids, and take lots of measurements. By the time I am done, I feel like I have done a math project! And then I have this constrained drawing to fill in, like a paint by number. I painted with watercolor this way for a year, and I always had neck aches. It was far from relaxing.

All kidding aside, I do wish I could draw better. In my own defense, I have had no formal training, so I use that as a lame excuse. But it must be so gratifying to capture something with just a pencil and sketch book in hand. But I also like to focus on producing work that I can show the world. No one, not even my mother, sees my sketch book! I buy beautiful sketch books from time to time, hoping their craftsmanship will inspire me. Instead, they either collect dust, or are given away.

When I paint, I use a pastel pencil to get straight horizons, and to block out large shapes, to get the perspective right. That's it for the pencil. Then I have at it with a brush! I draw the details with a palette knife or rigger, if there are details. They are more fun to use than a pencil or pen, and the effects are much more interesting and unpredictable.

I used to work in pastels, and I used them more like a brush, making marks. I think there are mark makers and drawers. I definitely fall into the mark maker category.

Attached is a beach scene I did, where I drew in the horizon, and fences with a pastel pencil before painting. The fences moved, got painted in and out, until the original drawing is a but a fleeting memory. ("Saving the Dunes", 24"X36" acrylic on canvas by Cathy Harville, c 2009.)

I think I will photograph the progress of a piece, from the initial pastel pencil "drawing" to the finished piece. It would be cool to see how different artists approach the progress of a work, wouldn't it. Could we make this a project among our readers? What fun! we all have to find our own way!

Artfully yours,

Cathy Harville

Being True

Last night, I watched a documentary on Monet, and his role in impressionism. Monet was the primary artist responsible for impressionism, and it changed the art world forever, in a very good way.

Besides the creation of stunning paintings, Monet gave the art world truth. Until he came along, the art world was stagnant and snobbish, with no room for new ideas, or new ways of experiencing art. In fact, Monet was not juried into many shows in Paris, because his work was not considered up to par.

But Monet did not give up. He painted outdoors, and he painted light. He learned that detail is not as important as the impression and light of a fleeting moment. He learned that shadows are not black. He pushed color to create moods. He painted things many times, in different lights, and different weather conditions. He experimented, and continued to paint until he was well into his eighties, with failing eyesight.

With 10 other artists, Monet's work gave art a sorely needed gift - - truth and authenticity in expression. By not conforming to the status quo, he taught the world that all of us see and feel in different ways, and they are all worthy. He taught the art world that without growth, and true human expression, art is but a mechanical craft.

As I look at some of my more outrageous work, I am heartened that I am pursuing my own truth. By honoring my own style, I am honoring my true self. I can always tell when I am honoring my own "impressions" - the work feels right, and it flows.

May you have flow and truth in your work,

Artfully yours,

Cathy Harville