Slowing Down

Greetings to all,

My husband and I recently returned from a trip to Peaks island, off the coast of Maine. Ferry boats run about every hour, taking tourists and commuters to this little gem out in Casco Bay.

After just a few hours, I understood why people live on and visit the island. its charm is only surpassed by its beauty. The rock formations, and waves cresting on its ocean shores are a sight to behold. Bikes are a common mode of transportation, and we joined the small groups that were biking around the island. Stopping at several places to take photos, we drank in the sights. (Photos from the trip may be found on my Facebook page.) We also went sailing, in the slowest boat on Peaks Island! But it was relaxing and fun.

Our three day trip seemed like a week, as we read at night - no TV in the cottage. It reminded me to slow down, and enjoy what this life has to offer. I have lots of potential paintings in my photos, and looking at them will be a reminder to slow down. Life doesn't have to be a rat race. We can plod along from time to time, and just enjoy the view.

Artfully yours,

Cathy Harville

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

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

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!

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

Lucy

Dick and I got a new puppy this past weekend. We needed a canine friend after Dakota departed this earth. Lucy is quite a handful! She is a wheaten terrier, and right now, a furball baby.

Lucy has taught me many things in the past 36 hours - that I can get by with a lot less sleep; that my eyeglasses are tougher than I thought; that puppies are eating/sleeping/pooping machines! I never meant for "Lucy" to rhyme with "poopy", but there you have it.

She is also helping me to fill my well. The grass in our yard has come to life. Lucy lives so "in the moment" that it is teaching me to do the same. I have to! Ironically, I couldn't keep up with her if I didn't live in the moment!

Soon (hopefully), Lucy will be a great studio mate. But for now, she is like a little duck, following me around, crying when I disappear, and hopping all over the place when I magically return. As soon as she stays still for more than a millisecond, I will include a photo. May take a while! Cathy

Electric Cars

For some reason, I have been feeling really, really guilty about my carbon footprint - especially driving my car. Of course, everyone is feeling the pain of high fuel prices, and everything is going up in price. I can't think of one thing that has not gone up in price - except at the local produce stand, where time seems to stand still. What a relief it is to walk in to the open air and dirt floor, buy some corn and cherries, pick up a half dozen sunflowers, and still get change for a ten. Okay, the other thing that has not gone up in price is my artwork. Since the public has little income to dispose of, my artwork prices have actually come down a bit. Just a little bit, don't get too excited!

I started to research electric cars today. We get our electric from a nuclear power plant. So an electric car makes a lot of sense, from a green standpoint, as well as from a cost standpoint. I found one car, a nice looking sedan, that will go fast, and take car of most of my commutes, and daily run-arounds. It re-charges on a 220V circuit - just like our dryer! Pretty amazing when you think about it.

Dick and I just got back from our annual summer trip to Ithaca, NY, where we hang out with some family and friends, and pretty eat ourselves into a happy stupor. This trip was full of little kid activities - picking up shells from Lake Cayuga, swinging on a tree swing, picking up railroad spikes off the train tracks, and exploring an ancient gorge up the road. the weather was cool, the nights chilly, and the flowers and wildlife were just amazing. It was a much needed break from the frenetic pace of metro life. Sleeping, eating, and playing for five days is the best prescription for what ails you!

Then came the 200 mile drive back. My nine year old car, bless its heart, just guzzles gas now, and I am thinking the next car will be electric. Hopefully, a model will come out in time so that we can keep this gasoline car for long trips, and as a second, hopefully seldom used vehicle.

So tomorrow, after doing loads of laundry, and grocery store shopping, I am looking forward to getting back to my studio, with fresh ideas, and a new perspective. And I hope I have more paintings to post, and ideas to share. Summer is such a slow time for shoppers, and the rising fuel costs are not helping the situation. So with a selection of small stuff for tight pockets, I hope to make some art that folks still feel like they can afford. While sleeping and eating are good for the soul, so is art. Art helps to dust off the pollution that we find ourselves in. Art gives us hope for the future, that we will still find beauty in our minds and souls. When that electric car becomes available, it will be like a piece of artwork for me - a breathe of fresh air.

Being Humble and Eating Dirt

It has been very hot here lately, the kind of heat that makes one a little bit on the edgy side, and lowers your electrolyte levels to "dumbness". Of course, the A/C always goes out when it is at least 95F, and 95 per cent humidity. And, it happens during a big event - with me, it is moving on to my new studio.

Yesterday, my Mom and I tackled the task of putting two chairs together, "Relaxing" chairs, they are ironically called. After two hours of struggling with the first chair, we agreed to put the unfinished wreckage into a corner, and pretend it never happened.

Then, Julian showed up - a bright eyed, gregarious young fellow, who just turned the ripe old age of eleven. He asked eagerly if we were moving in, and I blurted out", yeah, would you like to help?" (It just came out.) Julian said "Sure, I will ask my mom", and before I knew it, he was eagerly looking to us to give him something to do.

I felt bad about asking him to put the chairs together, so I made a deal with him, that if he was successful, I would pay him, and if he wasn't successful, but tried really hard, I would still pay him a modest sum. Wow, the kid was really excited. So I gave him our abandoned effort, and the unopened box with the second chair, some tools, and let him have at it.

Julian put both chairs together in less than an hour. The whole time, he cheerfully made comments, offered ideas, asked questions, and gave advice. Not once did he get frustrated, question his own abilities, or even get close to giving up.

When he finished the chairs, we sat in them, and relaxed. Julian helped me take out trash, and asked if he could do anything else, and we wouldn't have to pay him, because it was so much fun. Wow. A fresh outlook, positivity, smiles, and agreeableness go a long way. At some point, we were discussing getting sick, and Julian said he never got sick. I asked him if he ate a lot of dirt when he was "little". He said, "Yes, and I still do. Boosts the immune system."

Julian may not realize it, but today I feel more capable, competent, and I will take things, and myself, a lot less seriously. I may even eat some dirt, just for good measure. Thank you, Julian!

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

Solitude and Rainy Days

It is pouring here today. The trees are dancing, and the vegetation is an intense and lusty green, like the kind of green that art buffs tend to dismiss as "not realistic". The birds are at our feeders, so it will probably rain most of the day. (During brief showers, the birds hunker down under bushes and lawn chairs.)

I love days like these. I feel a universal permission to enjoy the sound of the rain, and paint my heart out. The rain becomes my music, a constant in the uncertainty outside in the world. No matter how much technology changes, the rain always sounds, well, like rain. The trees take on saturated colors, and the earth is cleansed of dust and grass clippings. Rain is like a bath for the earth.

We humans can take a cue from this natural experience, to slow down, and bathe ourselves in silence, and refresh our souls. Part of my renewal is painting. I hope you may find a renewal that feeds your body, mind and soul, and partake of it often. It is there for the taking! peace, Cathy