Ten Things I am Grateful for as an Artist

Ten things I am grateful for as an artist (in no particular order):

1. I have supportive family and friends;

2. I have the financial resources to cover my expenses;

3. I have a great network of artist friends;

4. I have a rare opportunity to enjoy nature up close with boating and kayaking;

5. I have the time to create;

6. I have my own studio space in public area;

7. I meet lots of great people while at my studio;

8. I enjoy working from photos (it is kind of difficult painting from a kayak);

9. I have good health, and

10. I don't have to make money and support myself!

Artfully yours,

Cathy Harville

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.

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

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!