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