Thank you!

As I look upon the first snow of season, I am reminded how quickly time passes, and how so many people have played a role in my life in 2009. I want to take a few minutes to thank a bunch of people, for supporting me in my art, and for supporting the local art community (in no particular order):

To Howard County Arts Council - for their tireless efforts to help emerging artists on a shoe string, and their enthusiasm for my work.

To Denee Barr, who is a networking genius, and one of the most positive people I know.

To Laurinda Lee, who has become a good friend, teacher, and listener.

To Robert Genn, who lovingly posts his twice weekly newsletters

To Suzie Lane-Rose, an artist that loves to play as much as I do

To Sara Moran, my good friend who has stood by me through crises and joyful moments

To Karen Schegel, who makes my time at Savage Mill even more fun than it already is

To Jimmy, the Mill security guard, who always has the right thing to say when I need to hear it

To Roger Chase, who has endured my countless requests for impossible frames

To Felton Barner, who is one of the most talented photographers, and one of the nicest guys around

To Nancy Lazarus, who always seizes the opportunity to help, share, and give. You are truly an angel

To my friend Adrienne, whose heart is as big as the moon, and for sharing her precious new family with me

To all my clients, who keep track of my work, and show up at my receptions, and embrace my art with big hugs

To my family, whose love and friendship are unsurpassed,

To my mom, who kept my art spark alive, even when I doubted myself

To my daughter, Adrienne, who is bravely living her dream her way

And, to my husband, Dick, who is my best friend, my confidant, my lover, and my benefactor. Without him, the dream life I am living would be next to impossible.

There are many more people who I cherish and want to thank, but I have already written enough to bore the most patient person! I am looking forward to a fabulous 2010, full of creativity, fun, and love!

Artfully yours,

Cathy

Every Year

Every year, the holidays roll around, and it always seems to surprise us! The few weeks of the holiday season promise fun, frustration, laughter, anxiety, tears, and joy. No other time of year affects us like the holidays.

This year, I feel like a scrooge. Since diabetes runs in my family, I am skipping cookie baking. The lousy economy has left us with little to splurge on decorations. A basement flood has molded what decorations we did have. It just seems that putting up lights and trees for a few weeks is just too much trouble.

All of this baa-humbug has allowed me more time for the more important aspects of the holidays - celebrating with those friends that have supported us through thick and thin all year, reconnecting with family, and enjoying seeing the deer forage during an early snowfall.

I like to take stock of the meaning of things every so often. It is the little things that make the holidays shine. My mom made us a boxwood Christmas tree, since she knew we wouldn't be putting a tree up this year. (Lucy, our dog, discovered it, so it is a bit off balance now!)

And, I am allowing myself more time to paint. In previous years, every minute leading up to Dec. 25th was spent shopping and wrapping, and fretting over what we have bought for our family and friends. This year, simple art gifts and books, and even cash for the kids, has replaced the hours of shopping and waiting in line behind impatient customers.

So going into this holiday season, I feel a renewed strength, and a peacefulness that has eluded me in previous years. I hope that you also find peace during this frenetic season. If you are the anxious type, remember - it will only last a few weeks!

Artfully yours,

Cathy Harville

www.harvilleart.com

mysilpada.com/cathy.harville

cathy.harville@gmail.com

News from Land of Pleasant Living!

Welcome to my first newsletter, from the Land of Pleasant Living, in the Chesapeake Bay area. I hope you find my news entertaining and interesting, and not too shameless, as I promote my art, and my favorite non-profit organizations.

MFA Collector’s Dinner – November 1, 2009

Wow! At Annapolis Subaru, over 200 people browsed through 149 pieces of artwork, at the 33^rd Annual Collector’s Choice Dinner. MFA artists donated artwork, and by lottery, patrons chose their favorite piece to take home with them. Two of my pieces, “Golden Waves”, and “Crooked Path”, now have new homes, and wonderful adoptive parents. The really fun part was meeting the patrons that chose my artwork. Another really fun part was just taking in the beautiful artwork! It was spectacular! Next year, I am buying a ticket, so I can take home a piece of artwork, too.

Markethouse at Annapolis

The City of Annapolis has allowed the MFA to use two unrented spaces in the Markethouse, next to the City Dock, for member artists to show their work. Every month, the artwork changes, so stop by to see the show, and enjoy some of the best food by Vaccaro’s and Atwaters!

Howard County Council for the Arts (HoCo) Holiday Extravaganza!

Save the evening of Friday, December 1^st for a HoCo holiday sale of local artists’ works. The sale runs from 6-8 PM at HoCo. Check out www.hocoarts.org for directions.

“Magic at the Mill” – Nov. 21^st and 22^nd

Join the merchants at Savage Mill for this annual, fun, family event! I will be hosting receptions on both days from 1PM to 4PM, with a cool twist – “Color Magic” – a show about color. I will be offering information about color, why we love it, hate it, crave it, and drop our jaws over it. And there will be a contest, and prizes, and a drawing, and wine, and food, and all kinds of good stuff. The show is now up, and will run through the end of the year. Please call me (443.286.3233) or e-mail me (cathy.harville@gmail.com) to schedule a time to visit. I don’t keep regular hours, but I am very flexible, and will be happy to spend time with you in my studio. Visit my website (www.harvilleart.com) for more information.

Keeping my fingers crossed…

I have submitted three pieces for the November juried show at MFA in Annapolis. I will find out tonight if I am juried in. The reception is Sunday, November 8^th, from 3PM to 5PM, at the Circle Gallery, 18 State Circle.

Chestertown Art League – November Show

Two of my pieces will be on display in the member’s judged show through November. Chestertown is a quaint and friendly little town on the Eastern Shore, full of galleries and artists. My husband and I discovered by boat, and visit every chance we get! And, the town is very dog friendly, which is important to us folks with canine friends.

Until next time, artfully yours,

Cathy Harville

Sometimes You Just Have to Surrender

For the past two weeks, I have been ill with the world-renown H1N1 virus. So for the past 2 weeks, which feels like two years when you are sick, I have been unable to paint, wash the car, or keep up with cleaning. The main offending symptoms were wicked fatigue, weakness, and achiness in joints I didn't even know I had!

This morning, I woke up nearly symptom free. As the morning has progressed, my joints are reminding me that now is not the time to start an aerobic exercise program.

Sickness slows us down, and makes us surrender. And that is not such a bad thing. We have to really pay attention to our bodies when we are ill. So, during the past two weeks, I have read a lot, updated my marketing materials, enjoyed chocolate muffins, and napped whenever I felt like it. I have watched lots of movies, football, sitcoms, and Survivor. The folks on Survivor looked liked they felt much worse than me - I have snuggly blankets to stay warm, and a roof that doesn't leak!

I started playing around with painting today. While I was painting, all the aches seemed to melt away. I entered that special zone, where anything is possible. While the fatigue cut my session short, I still enjoyed those sensuous moments of mixing paint, and covering canvases. And maybe by this weekend, I will be ready to work on some real art.

Cheers,

Cathy Harville

Fixing Things

I am a very messy painter. Almost every piece of clothing I own has paint on it. My studio looks like it blew up. Even my "office" area is strewn with papers and handwritten notes.

Chaos leads to mistakes - and accidents. While preparing the ground for one piece, I get the gesso on another piece. Paint flies, drips, and smears. All of this leads to all kinds of chalenges - and adventures in fixing mistakes.

The worst "mistake" I ever had was when I had run out of horizontal space to put a painting covered in acrylic gel to dry. So, I sat it on the rug on the floor. I went out to the restroom, came back, and stepped right in the wet goo! Not only did I step in it, I slid several feet, so prussian blue was everywhere. I spent the next hour cleaning off paint off the floor, and my shoe. I gave up on my clothes and the floor!

Determined to save the art, I pushed the wet gel back into place, added some more, and giggled the whole time. It really was a mess, and it is such a shame no one else got to see the event! After several more "surgeries", I completed the piece, called "Layers of Sunlight". It was the first piece I got accepted into a show at the Art League in Alexandria!! The jurors were quite baffled as to how I created the piece. I told them everything, even the accident part, and they got a good laugh.

If it wasn't for mistakes, my growth would have stopped sometime as a toddler. Mistakes are learning moments, rich with "I will never do that again", or "this looks better than what I planned"! Not many people understand the chaos that surrounds my creative space - except for other artists, of course!

Artfully yours,

Cathy Harville

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

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

Reflections

I have been painting a lot of water reflections lately. I have been doing a lot of reflecting. Even when the water is still, the reflections of the trees, sky, and grass are never exactly the same as the actual image. Water reflections tend to be less defined, and defy borders and logic.

Painting reflections is a very freeing experience. It doesn't have to be "right". Moods can be created that are tranquil, active, mysterious, or curious, depending on how the reflections are rendered. I often use unusual colors and patterns, to draw attention to the reflections. Minnow schools create "swirlies". Boats create ripples and waves. The sun casts shadows and light. It is all very cool. The reflections are like liquid mercury, always changing and evolving.

Floating in my kayak, I take lots of pictures of micro-environments, usually in the late afternoon light. (I am not much on sunrises, since I like to sleep!) I have been thinking about jumping fish lately, and how to suggest that in the water reflections, without actually rendering the fish.

I am also experimenting with a new method of creating depth and mystery. By using thick, clear medium between paint coats, a really interesting, 3-D effect emerges. While time consuming, and hair-pulling, I am practicing the technique, and will post the first notable effort sometime next week.

I think setting aside time to reflect on life is really necessary in these complicated times. Yoga is a great help. And painting reflections is another.

Artfully yours,

cathy harville

Managing

I spent many years as a manager for a large company, including having to manage myself when my boss was preoccupied with various "things".

Those experiences helped me to learn to do the tasks that I do best, and leave the rest to the folks who reported to me,

In making art, we have to do it all - shop, keep records, pay taxes, update websites, advertise, and make art - paint, frame, fix, and hang.

I have embraced being the manager of myself. After all, who knows me better? I do solicit lots of consultations from willing artists, and it is nice to have such a collegial atmosphere to keep me going.

I find that while I am framing, or cleaning, or working on advertising, my subconscious works on the next painting; or figures out what to change on a piece on my easel. And I have also found that when I get lazy - not wanting to organize my studio, for example - I set a small goal, with painting as a reward. Otherwise, my husband would have no clean underwear!

Sometimes I wish I had an agent. But if I did, I would never have learned as much as I have. And, I would miss out on so many life lessons.

Artfully yours,

Cathy Harville

Rain, rain, go away....

Remember the little rhyme we used to say as kids? "Rain, rain, go away, come again some other day".  

We have had 19 million days of continuous rain, sometimes accompanied by falling trees, wind damage, and lightning zaps. While everything is green, I think even the plants want to see the sun.

All this rain makes for achy joints, depressed moods, and cabin fever. And lots of jokes - about arks, webbed feet, and people mildewing. Even our boat was full of water - the poor bilge pumps just couldn't handle it anymore, and blew a fuse.

Since we have been indoors for so long, I am working from photos of a year ago, when we actually saw the sun. I find that people in my studio just love to look at the sunny skies, and sunsets, and blue skies. I am starting to run out of photos!

I have a 24X36 painting that is near completion. It is called "After the Rain". I cannot finish it, because I need to see the world after the rain. 

Okay, perhaps I have employed a bit of exaggeration. It really hasn't been 19 million days. But I know it has been at least enough to alter the sanity of really stable and intelligent people. Come August, we will probably have our usual late summer drought. And as our grass dies (which, by the way, has to be cut constantly), I don't think I will be complaining. Perhaps that is the lesson.

Stay dry,

cathy

Starting Fresh

This spring has been a time of things falling apart. HVAC, lawnmower, cell phone falling into a bucket of paint, refrigerator leaking water, trees falling on the house, garage door broken, and our boat in the shop.

Then, yesterday, a hacker spammed my entire e-mail list. After waiting 24 long hours to be able to use that account, the password has been changed on everything I have! Ironically, the spammer sent the e-mail to the local police, who just happened to be on my list!

So, with a new e-mail, I have to start fresh. With the cell phone, I decided to start fresh as well, by loading contacts only as I need to. There is something about starting over that is uplifting and satisfying. A clean slate is so inviting.

This fresh start mentality has infiltrated my artwork as well. I find I need to take a new direction, take more risks, and accept more failures. Each clean piece of canvas represents a new start - and an opportunity for a new direction.

May you find peace in your life, amidst all the confusion,

Cathy

You never know!

I recently painted two small autumn paintings, as part of an experimental period I am undergoing. I posted them on my website, and they sold within 24 hours!

You just never know how or when sales will occur. Sometimes I think it is the phase of the moon, or an ebb tide, or the art gods just may be in a good mood. But fate is fickle - it can often bring together elements in the universe in strange, but wonderful ways.

As I move through life's journey, the world is indeed getting smaller. Things click together more, and connections are more easily made. 

Yesterday, I was in my studio for five minutes, and a woman came in, happy that I was open, and bought a few small things, and also ordered a print.  You just never know!

I had a meeting with an artist friend at the Mill, and she offered to include me in an upcoming, very visible local art event. Such gifts can happen at any time, as long as we are open to receiving them.

So, i think I will do some more experimental work. It is good for my soul, and apparently, is helping with sales! You just never know what is around the next corner.

Artfully yours,

Cathy 

The Child

The child in me has been screaming to take a new direction, to go on a new adventure. I have learned it is important to listen to my inner child, because it is very good at letting me know what I need creatively.

So, I started work on three paintings of autumn color, using unusual hues of magenta and violet, along with the more traditional gold, yellow, and orange. I outlined the trees in black ink to add drama, and used both a brush and palette knife to paint.

The results are...interesting. I kind of like them. They are arresting, demanding attention, drawing you in, and screaming, "look at me, look at me"....just like my inner child.

Art is a journey and a process. I do believe my inner child is responsible for most of my work. The child is the part that has imagination, and is not afraid to try new things. I think when we rely on our adult part to run the creativity show, we miss out on a lot of new directions. Plus, who wants to hear a screaming child all the time? 

I would be interested in any feedback and impressions. Has you inner child spoken to you today?

Artfully yours,

Cathy

Lucy

Our wheaton terrorist, I mean terrier, is now one year old, and still very much a puppy.  We took her on a cruise with some friends, and their aging lab, Belle. Poor Belle! Lucy is a non-stop play toy, and Belle was worn out by the end of the day.

We can learn a lot from dogs.  Dogs live in the moment. None of this worrying about the future! They play when they want to, eat when they need to, and love you unconditionally. Lucy is always happy to see me, even if I have only been gone an hour. She tries so hard to be good, and not jump, but she has this bouncing, springing action that she just can't seem to get under control.

Someday, maybe Lucy will be calm enough to be a good studio dog. Although she has confiscated a few tubes of paint, and has sported various garish colors in her fur, she is still much too active to watch me paint. I have been thinking of creating a piece with her paw prints in it, but the concern over the chemicals in paint have held me back.  

This past weekend, Lucy helped me realize, for the zillionth time, that life consists of moments. Most of the things that worry us are trivial, and unimportant.  She also shows us how easy it is to unconditionally love one another. If only people could be like dogs - minus the butt sniffing!

Artfully yours,

Cathy

Declined

I am going through a run of rejections at art shows - or, to put it more politically correct - "declineds".

One never knows what a juror may value. Even after reading their bio, and looking at their work, it is difficult to choose pieces that might actually get in. it is more than difficult - it is impossible!

But, for every show I have been rejected from, there are other shows where I am showing work, and, at a few of them, I have sold work. What is also interesting, is that I often sell work quickly that has been rejected from shows! Sweet!

One thing I recognize is that my adventures with acrylics are still in their infancy. I recognize that I have a lot of growing to do, and much to learn. So, I have decided it is time to take a workshop - to immerse myself in the creative process for several days, and just paint, paint, paint. While remote workshops are pricey, perhaps I need some time to learn a few new tricks, and to watch other artists in their creative processes. If new ideas could come in the form of an injection, I would be the first in line!

As an artist, I also need to learn to honor the process of hit or miss. Without struggling, there can be no progress. I have this one painting that I have painted over so many times, that it has an inherent texture.  

So, today I go to pick up my declined paintings. I already have ideas for the next show!

Artfully yours,

Cathy Harville 

A Beautiful Monday

After yet another weekend of rain, the sun is shining on this beautiful Monday. This spring has got to be the wettest I can remember for a decade!

The rain has brought us gifts in the form of green life, and profusely blooming flowers. Everything this spring has been so intense - the color, the saturation, and....the gloom on the seemingly endless sunless days.

Humans need sunlight. We are hard-wired to take in sunlight through our eyes and skin, and produce vitamin D and various amino acids and hormones. It is a well-known fact that people in higher latitudes often suffer from seasonal affective disorder, or SAD. Canadians flock to Florida over the winter, to escape the not only the cold, but to soak up the sun's necessary rays.

The depletion of the ozone layer in the last 20 years has caused more UV rays to make their way to the earth. Compound that with the melting of glaciers, and the UV burden increases even more. More UV rays means more cases of cataracts, and skin cancer. Modern sunblocks made to combat the UV rays are now known to contain compounds that react with the sunlight to create carcinogens! So what are we to do?

It all goes back to our stewardship of the planet. While we probably cannot reverse the damage we have done, I am still optimistic that we can prevent further damage to our environment. If everyone would turn off lights in unoccupied rooms, and turn off power strips to computers, TVs and printers, it would go a long way to saving energy and less green house gases would be emitted into the atmosphere. If we gave up beef, the methane produced by cattle would go away. If we used less gasoline, the environment would improve. If we consumed less, the environment would improve.

As an artist, I am very attuned to the landscape around us. Our open spaces and wild places provide me with my inspiration for paintings. I am trying to do my part. Rather than consume, I reuse, recycle, and renew. I paint over canvases. I take damaged frames to a framer, so they can be made into smaller frames and reused. My trips to the art store are limited to purchasing the essential things I need, rather than buying $30 of stuff I don't need. I don't print out anything unless I really need it. I wear my clothes until they wear out. i also support the Chesapeake Bay Foundation, to protect this national treasure, and to insure that future generations may enjoy the bay as we do now.

I am not perfect, in fact, I have to learn some new habits to do my part in saving the environment. Old habits are hard to break, but with conscious thought, it can be done.

So....as I go out on this beautiful day, and walk my canine friend Lucy, I am thankful for the sun, and thankful for clear blue sky and green vegetation. And yes, I will wear sunblock, lest my skin becomes burned.

Artfully yours,

Cathy Harville

Second shot

Okay, I am the world's worse blogger! But I am giving it a second shot. My goal is to post at least once a week, then I will go from there.

Things are good. I am building up inventory, and have participated in four charity events recently, which always does the soul good. Although sales are not stellar, people are enjoying my artwork, and I continue to meet really interesting folks.

At the Mill, we have been struggling with attracting attention to events. So I want to talk about signage. Signs are so important in our lives. We need highway signs, rest room door signs, signs to identify restaurants and merchants, and street numbers.

Signs are all around us. Sometimes, signs get lost in the fray - realty signs, and the homemade staked signs along the road.

Savage Mill is composed of 11 interconnected buildings, with a confusing, but fun, pedestrian flow, and a handicap access that defies logic. It is because of the Mill's historic status and age, that it is a maze. Many people welcome the wandering nature of this really cool place, and some people just get frustrated. And then there are the tavern drinkers, who laughingly go in circles, and forget which lot they parked the car in.

The artists at the Mill struggle with being found - literally! We are off in the catacombs of the building. Although we all have signs that can be read from miles away, people are just so distratced by all the information around them, that the signs go unnoticed. Perhaps a lighthouse would attract attention. Personally, I have been thinking about a neon sign. I may also hang a second shingle.

So if you manage to get to Mill, I only have one suggestion - prepare to spend some time and get lost. And have fun. Because around each corner is something new and interesting.

Artfully yours,

Cathy Harville

Snowed In

I love being snowed in! The whiteness of the snow reflects so much light, that I can't help but smile!

Snow is one of nature's natural anti-depressants. It seems that when the snow covers the landscape, spirits are lifted in Northern climates. My family in Ithaca, NY believes that it is the continual snow cover that makes their winters bearable, and beautiful.

Here in Maryland, we don't often get significant snowfall. So it is a welcome sight, when the earth is sleeping. For some reason though, I am not a snow painter. I prefer to paint color, and the colors in snow are so subtle, that it is just not my ball of wax.

As the end of winter nears, I can feel my painting well getting low. The sweet green of spring promises new inspiration, and warmth. At Savage Mill, we will be having a Green Life festival, on May 2-3, 2009. All the resident artists are busily preparing for our Greenscapes art exhibit, with half the proceeds going to the Chesapeake Bay Foundation.

So even though the landscape is white, check out the Historic Savage Mill website, www.savagemill.com, to see our upcoming spring events. For me, spring is the official start of a new year. And despite the poor economy, each new year holds a special promise of a new start.

Artfully yours,

Cathy

Major Life Events

greetings everyone,

I subscribe to Robert Genn's Painter's Keys. He recently had an interesting quote:

PS: "Major life events can paralyze your creativity. If you uncover what's going on behind the 'big picture,' though, you can bring yourself back into being in the moment and loving your life." (Guillermo Cuellar)

I agree with Robert, and with Cuellar - major life events, even good ones, can greatly affect creativity.

When I read this quote, I must say I felt a bit relieved. Over the past two months, I have had my share of illnesses, and I am still a bit under the weather with a sinus infection that won't let go. And during this time, my creativity has suffered. On the flip side, I have had more time to think, and let ideas percolate.

My husband and I went to the Florida Keys this past week. I wasn't sure I even wanted to go, but I am glad I did. One of the highlights of the trip was having a first encounter with Key deer. These miniature deer are only 26-32 inches tall, and they only live on a few of the Keys. Naturalists think that these deer were separated from the mainland deer during the last ice age, about 12-13,000 years ago. Their small size matches the land area and vegetative growth they need to survive. As an endangered species, the deer have developed a fondness for people. Although it is illegal to feed them, many of the locals do give them bits of vegetables and fruit. And instead of being nocturnal, they are on the same time schedule as humans.

Our first encounter was with three deer. They all licked my fingers. My husband spent several minutes scratching the ears and face of a small male. After they realized we had no people food to give them, they went about their business. We went into the refuge, and around every curve, we saw deer, eating and laying down, soaking up the winter sun. None of them seemed to fear us.

The Keys are mostly an unspoiled landscape (except for Key West, which is a real tourist trap). I took a few hundred pictures of the clear water, the mangrove trees, and coconut and palm trees. Presently, I am working on a series of palm frond paintings. The light on the fronds was beautiful, and I hope I can do them justice.

Back to major life events - even though I was not feeling well most of the trip, the experience was unforgettable and nourishing. For a little while, I forgot all of my petty problems, and experienced the harmony and healing beauty of nature. I really didn't want to come home.

It snowed this week. Another beautiful gift - the whiteness of the snow provides a tremendous amount of reflected sunlight - just what we all need in the dead of winter - lots of light!

As I continue in this New Year, I can feel a major shift in my thinking, and I am learning to channel negative events into my right hemisphere, and find the positive message. I think that is a good way to approach the winter cold and darkness - to find the light and warmth.

paint yourself a great day,

Cathy

Adversity

A Happy New year to all!



My New year didn't start out so well. I was in the hospital the first part of December of 2008, then I when I returned home, I seemed to catch every bug and flu going around.



I feel much better, though a bit rattled by the whole ordeal. Back at my easel, the doubts of whether I can still paint keep running through my tired head.



Adversity teaches us to be patient. We are not in control of very much of anything. All we can control is how we react to various stimuli. That's about it. We cannot control anything happening outside of ourselves. The realization of how little control we have comes with adversity.



In adverse situations, we just have to let go, and let the universe do its thing. Through adversity, I learned that we are not complete little laptops that can be plugged in and always perform up to a given standard. We are human, and we are frail creatures. Think about it. We need water everyday, several times, and we need a constant intake of nutrients, just to stay alive. We need other humans to help us. We cannot do much by ourselves.



Not meaning to start the New year off with a negative frame of mind, I want to put the positive spin on this. By needing other people, the need goes both ways. Artists need to create art that other people need in order to enjoy. Art, without someone appreciating it, is not really art. And how can something be self-expression, if no one hears it, or sees it? For example, Van Gogh's art was never even considered beautiful until after his death. That is unfortunate for poor Vincent, but we have so much more in the way of getting ourselves out there than he did.



I don't know if anyone out there even reads my stories. Eventually, someone will. I am putting myself out there, because somewhere along the line, someone will connect with what I have to share. If I can positively affect one person, I am happy with my efforts.



Generally, speaking, adversity stinks. But accepting our humanness and limitations can be a very liberating thing. Knowing that we aren't all knowing is freeing. Knowing that we need other people is comforting. And knowing that we will be ill, is knowing that there will be someone to care for us. And expecting that things may go wrong makes the inevitable easier to swallow.



So this year, I start off by embracing my limitations - all the bumps and warts that make me human. Beyond that, I just hope i get the opportunity to paint, and make someone happy. To ask for little is to receive a lot.



Best wishes to all,

Cathy