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!

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

To Draw or not to Draw?

Below is a response I sent to Robert Genn, author of "Painters Keys" and "Love Letters to Art". He recently published a letter on drawing, and I thought I would share my response with you.

Greetings Robert,

I hope you are happy that I agree with you about drawing. (LOL) I love to sketch very loosely, more like a controlled doodling, but drawing is, well, boring to me. I am not good at it, so I make elaborate grids, and take lots of measurements. By the time I am done, I feel like I have done a math project! And then I have this constrained drawing to fill in, like a paint by number. I painted with watercolor this way for a year, and I always had neck aches. It was far from relaxing.

All kidding aside, I do wish I could draw better. In my own defense, I have had no formal training, so I use that as a lame excuse. But it must be so gratifying to capture something with just a pencil and sketch book in hand. But I also like to focus on producing work that I can show the world. No one, not even my mother, sees my sketch book! I buy beautiful sketch books from time to time, hoping their craftsmanship will inspire me. Instead, they either collect dust, or are given away.

When I paint, I use a pastel pencil to get straight horizons, and to block out large shapes, to get the perspective right. That's it for the pencil. Then I have at it with a brush! I draw the details with a palette knife or rigger, if there are details. They are more fun to use than a pencil or pen, and the effects are much more interesting and unpredictable.

I used to work in pastels, and I used them more like a brush, making marks. I think there are mark makers and drawers. I definitely fall into the mark maker category.

Attached is a beach scene I did, where I drew in the horizon, and fences with a pastel pencil before painting. The fences moved, got painted in and out, until the original drawing is a but a fleeting memory. ("Saving the Dunes", 24"X36" acrylic on canvas by Cathy Harville, c 2009.)

I think I will photograph the progress of a piece, from the initial pastel pencil "drawing" to the finished piece. It would be cool to see how different artists approach the progress of a work, wouldn't it. Could we make this a project among our readers? What fun! we all have to find our own way!

Artfully yours,

Cathy Harville