Finishing

Yesterday, I talked about discipline. Today, I want to talk about finishing paintings.

It may seem odd to the general public that many paintings go unfinished. A well-known artist I know has about a 20% non-finishing percentage, which means that one in every five paintings he attempts is never completed. My percentage of is quite a bit higher.

Recently, I have learned that I can probably lower that percentage if I completely commit to a painting. The fact is, that I do not finish some paintings because I hit a "block". I am now learning to paint through blocks, and keep pushing forward. Then, as I am learning, the painting will come together.

I have started a new series called "work in progress". As I work on the paintings I have started, which is all two of them, I take photos to show my progress. The in progress photos won't be revealed until I am certain that I am going to finish the piece. Maybe that is cheating, but I like it it is avoiding unneccesary postings.

Maybe that is not such a good idea. Seeing a painting blocked in is not awe-inspiring. I want the viewer to be more involved with my work, and just thought this is a novel idea. My first posting on Facebook did draw any comments, so perhaps my audience is not interested in such a thing.

But taking pictures as I work is providing a push to finish what I have started. And that is a very good thing!

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

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

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

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

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.