Art Therapy

Greetings to all,

As most of you know, I am trying to manage a brain disorder. (If you didn't know, I guess I am coming out of the closet!) Yesterday, I went to a KIFA (Kent Island Federation of Art) meeting. The members there were very nice, and it was a pleasant time.

I knew that there would be a demo at the KIFA meeting. What I didn't know was that we could participate by painting a vase of flowers on this wild, Yupo paper with watercolors. As I followed some preliminary instructions, I dabbed my brush into the juicy watercolor, and started to paint. Within a few minutes, it seemed like art therapy I had in a few of my hospitalizations. I giggled to myself as I played with abandon.

Distraction and keeping busy are powerful tools when managing a brain disorder. By distracting myself, and keeping busy, I am able to push the uncomfortable symptoms to the background, often forgetting about how bad I feel for a while. Movies are also great distractions. With the big screen, it is almost guaranteed that you will have a few hours of peace.

While my art effort at the meeting will not win any awards, I saved it as a reminder of the power of distraction and play in coping with bipolar disorder. Whenever I feel unable to cope, I need to find some busy play, to distract myself. While this cognitive therapy is not always easy, it is effective.

I also learned that my current artist block is penetrable. All I need to do is play, experiment, and have some fun, as well as be patient - for this too, shall pass.

Artfully yours,

Cathy Harville

PS - The attached jpeg is "Cooling Off", 8"X10" pastel by yours truly. (I didn't wan't to post the yupo flower picture just yet - the vase is a little cockeyed, and needs a bit of attention.)

Knowing When to Stop and Start

From my personal experience, being an artist is all about starting and stopping. The creative urge is rather unpredictable. For months, I can be on a creative rampage, with long, non-stop sessions of painting and creating. Then, it is as if a famine strikes, or a drought. I sit down, and 15 minutes later, it is time to stop.

I have been going through a blocked period for about two months now. At first, it was scary, as I questioned whether I would be able to complete another painting. Evidence shows that yes, I have finished several paintings, even during this "dry" spell, although not as many as I had several months ago.

Later, it just became annoying, to sit down, and with the concentration of a fruit fly, try to complete any portion of a painting. I was learning that it is important to know when to stop. Creatvity cannot be forced. I read recently that Leonardo DaVinci often just sat for hours, just thinking and reflecting. (It used to drive his patrons crazy.) Picasso went through a period of changing mediums daily, and even made prints of fishbones left from dinner.

I learned that every artist goes through changes in creativeness, and, while frightening, it is a natural process. Lately, I feel like I have painted every reference photo I have. While this is not true, it feels true, at the time. But one look in my reference photo drawer shows me otherwise!

I have learned that being an artist is not a 9-5 proposition. We are not trained dolphins that can create on demand. There has to be passion present, and a strong desire to create. And all of this has to be in time with my inner muse, who, some days it seems, doesn't want to paint anything.

And that is okay. Being a full time artist doesn't mean painting full time. It just means spending your time "being" an artist. I am an artist when I make greeting cards, take a nap, or go kayaking. I am an artist all the time, no matter what I happen to be doing at a given moment.

So as I struggle with this block, I am mindful to be kind to myself, and realize that even the great Leonardo DaVinci has times of creative despair. It is hard to believe, but on his deathbed, DaVinci lamented over unfinished projects. I expect that I shall do the same!

Artfully yours,

Cathy Harville

Paralysis by Analysis

Every once in a while, I think too much. When I think too much, I cannot be fully present in the moment. And when an artist is not present in the moment, art just does not happen.

Lately I am suffering from paralysis by analysis. Before I start to paint, I find myself planning the painting, I envision how I want it to look, instead of just trusting that my brush will find its way. When I practice excessive planning in my art, nothing goes according to plan!

Part of the problem may be related to my recent bout with ADD. Not being able to concentrate, I find I actually overcompensate by thinking too much about painting.

So today, I plan to reverse that trend, and just endeavor to stay in the moment. Things happen in life moment by moment. And paintings happen in just this one little moment in the present.

Creative Famines

I am going through some changes to my meds, which is causing a "creative famine". Actually, I have no trouble with planning the creative process, just in the execution.

My mind and body are not cooperating - I am wired and tired, and my focus is almost non-existent. I think I know why, but it is scary to think that a drug can have so much effect on one's productivity.

The reason I am changing meds, is because of side effects - body jerking at night before I get to sleep. While not dangerous, the body jerks make it impossible to get to sleep. Over time, there is the possibility that they will become permanent.

All of this is contributing to a lack of concentration for almost any activity. I can do laundry, but that is about it! Painting has become difficult, since without concentration, I cannot stick working on a painting. Even typing this is difficult!

Mental disorders are complicated. And treatment of them is equally complicated. To all of you out there experiencing a mental disorder, my heart goes out to you. I hope you have a good doctor. Hang in there. Science is slowly, but surely, getting some answers to these puzzles.

Artfully yours,

Cathy

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

Discipline

Being an artist, discipline is not one of my stronger suits. While I can be disciplined to finish a painting, I am less disciplined with daily activities.

One area I am going to try to improve upon is posting blogs! It doesn't matter if I don't have a lot to say, but I realize that posting is the backbone of the blog. So, I will try to use my early morning hours to post more blogs more frequently.

Discipline is a learned skill, and one must practice it to get better at it. So, for the next several weeks, I will strive to be more disciplined, and post regularly. And, if my audience wants, they can keep me on track!

An update - I have been rather manic for the past several weeks, and typing has been difficult. Between my doctor and myself, we seem to have gotten the beast under control. What a relief! The mania was not the happy kind. It was like an internal restlessness, and sleep was hard to come by.

I am not using the mania as an excuse, although my typing time was restricted to essential tasks. As I type this, I am still struggling with the hand to eye coordination. I just need to discipline myself, and power through the problems in life.

As we embark on a new week, I challenge everyone to think of an area in their lives that could use more discipline. Perhaps you are already disciplined enough in daily life to be productive and successful. But if not, here is your opportunity to learn a new skill, and get more out of life.

Namaste,

Cathy

Potholes

After the major snows we had this winter, the roads are full of potholes. It is to be expected, but, nonetheless, they are annoying. It takes a while for crews to fix them, but the road is just never the same again.

Life is full of potholes - all the challenges, irritations, and burdens that come in all shapes and sizes. This past week, I fell into a major pothole. I had a relapse from bipolar disorder, and landed in the hospital. Now grateful to be home, I find myself reflecting on how to fix that pothole - how to better manage my life with this illness.

First, I want to thank everyone that "came to the rescue" as I am struggling with my latest pothole. It is so much appreciated.

Second, I realized that some things had to change in my life. With any mental illness, ordinary, daily issues can turn into huge monsters. Now, instead of panicking, I can step back and figure out what needs adjusting. I am becoming more assertive, and honest, and I am asking for help.

This relapse also made me realize that we live life in the present - not the past or future. By focusing on the present, life gets easier.

I want to thank everyone who provides support and love for me, not only during times of struggle, but also all year long. Sometimes it takes a village to fix a pothole.

On the mend,

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

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

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

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

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

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