Artists' Block

Like every artist, I have experienced painter's block. I seldom have any problem with subject matter, and reference material. In my leisure time, I take lots of reference photos, and sometimes get to paint on site.

Since my blocks usually happen before I put the brush to the canvas, I simply put the brush to the canvas. Then it gets easy - until I hit a point where the composition isn't working, or the paint is so thick, that covering it creates confusion. The decision to abort is easy, as acrylics can be covered with a luscious layer of gesso. Sometimes it takes three or more attempts to nail it. Sometimes, I just can't nail it, and i move on. And maybe someday, I will go back to the blasted thing I just can't seem to paint, with more tools in my box.

Inherent in blocks is little voice of failure, looming in the background. I don't listen to those negative little voices. The voice that wants to have fun, experiment, and play is the only voice I listen to while painting.

I recently experimented with some new layering techniques, using gels and mediums, and gluing acrylic pieces to the canvas. Everything was going great - until I stepped in the wet creation. Instead of crying over spilled milk, I used it as a learning experience, and ended up fixing it. While I was reviving the gooey mess, I did another piece, and made sure I didn't set it on the floor! And it turned out pretty cool! I have plans for two more pieces, using different backgrounds and techniques. I guess the moral of the story was that I could have given up with a shoe full of goo, or I could move on to create something even better.

And rest is important. Nothing good comes out when I am tired. I save those times for non-creative chores - or a good nap!

Artfully yours,

Cathy Harville

Finding My Muse

Artists often talk about their "muse", a mysterious, and mischievous force, that helps us to create. My muse shows up when it feels like it. Lately, it has been sticking around longer, and I find I am painting every free moment I can!

To lure my muse to me, I often listen to music while I work. Sometimes, I break out in singing, followed by a fake microphone performance, and then dancing. I find it loosens me up, helps me to think less, and enables me to put out more paint than I will ever need - which is a good thing!

I never watch the clock -which explains why I am chronically late when I am in the "zone". The world becomes my studio, with me at the center. I actually enjoy the quiet of the Mill during the week. I get much more done than when onlookers interrupt my flow. For those days when I have customers (thank goodness), I do administrative stuff and clean up, so my muse can think up more dastardly, crazy stuff for me to paint.

The very act of putting on my painting apron gets me going. Working in a series also gets my adrenaline rushing. Lately, I have been painting petals on glass, and scraping them off to make layered sunflowers. Between using too much gel, stepping in my painting, and not waiting for things to dry, I have learned a lot! The mistakes I make throw me into high gear, to correct or start over fresh. Either way, my muse is laughing up a storm, as I frenetically make more petals, and paint over gel-whitened areas.

Sometimes, my muse throws a temper tantrum when I try to do laundry. I often listen to it, and just let the clothes say in the washer. I know it's time to get back to reality when I have no clean underwear!

Artfully yours,

Cathy Harville

PS - I apologize for the quality of the photo of "Layers of Sunlight II". It is so glossy, that I have to go back and apply a satin gel to it, to get a good photo. In case you were wondering, I stepped in "Layers of Sunlight I" while the gels was wet, sliding across the surface, and making a very admirable mess. The painting went through intensive care, and is healing nicely. I wish we could heal as easily!

Farewell to a Fellow Mariner

The past few weeks have been sad. A vibrant member of our marina community was dropped by cancer in a week. No one saw it coming, and no one was prepared for his passing. One weekend, he is fishing, laughing, teaching young kids how to fish, and the next week, he is fighting for his life.

Now his and his wife's boat sits covered. The marina community grieves. We miss him already. The funeral home was full of recent photos of he and his wife laughing, and their dog, Anchor, perched on the stern of their fishing boat.

Life events such as this teach us that we are not in control. We have this moment, and no guarantee that in an hour, we will still exist. It is in these moments that the mystery of life presents itself, the shadow side that makes us cry and mourn the loss of those we have come to love.

We learn to cherish those we have among us - our family, our friends, the people that take care of our needs, the person we meet on the street. We learn to hug harder, love more, and forgive more. We learn that without each other, we are nothing but a lone soul.

At the Mill where my studio is, we are having Art Jam, a weekend to celebrate the arts. My mom went with me, so I could take breaks from my studio, and for the company. She will never know how much it meant for me to have her with me today. All afternoon, people came to my door with stories - stories of adventures, of amazing experiences, of interesting endeavors, and human follies. I listened carefully. I laughed. I laughed until I cried. I asked questions. I thanked them for their stories. And in my heart, I was thanking the universe for sending me all these terrific people during a difficult time.

I sold a lot of art today - compared to what I normally sell! But the day was a great day, not because of the sales, but because of the people. Other humans that wanted to share their life with me, even if for only a little while.

Tomorrow will be better. Each day will unfold, and we will understand better what our friend's passing means. And we will all be better people for our loss.

Artfully yours,

Cathy

Messiness

I have been a physically challenged, cluttered person my whole life. Even if I manage to spruce up a room, you can rest assured the drawers and storage areas will be a living nightmare.

Yesterday, my clutter gave me an awakening jolt of reality. I had glazed a painting with a thick layer of "self-leveling" gel (which, BTW, did not really level out). I sat it on a rug on the floor in my studio. I left to get a cup of coffee. When I came back, I stepped on the painting, resulting in a mess of gel and paint of epic proportions.

After a slew of quiet curse words, I spent the next hour cleaning the floor and my shoe, and cursing myself for being such a slob. But in the end, fate might have done me a favor - the mixed media piece was an experiment from the very beginning, so I did learn what not to do on the next piece. And I also realized that I had not really wasted several hours working on it - that I learned a great deal, and the next effort would be better, and even more creative.

I also realized that no matter how much space I have, it will never be enough. The world tends towards chaos, and I do my fair share to make sure that happens. Pieces of me can be found everywhere I go. My mess will be my legacy - and I think how exciting it will be for a future descendant to "discover" all my hidden and lost treasures.

In life, one has to spend the time to put a positive spin on things. I seem to do a lot of that these days!

Hoping for more order,

Cathy