Autumn and Older

Okay. "I am the worst blogger on the planet".

There, now let's move on. It's autumn. It's rainy, and it's cold. It seems to happen every year. But this year, it seems different. I am 50 years old. I get the AARP magazine. I take vitamins for 50+. I am going through menopause. I am officially all gray.

But wow, life seems so fresh and new. I realize I don't have to impress anyone. I don't have to settle for bad service. I know who my friends are. I like my fingernails naked.

And the colors of fall seem more amazing, magical. Everything does. My puppy is getting big girl teeth. It is like magic. Life seems to be one, big, magical mystery.

No, I am not stoned, I am stone sober. But happy. Happy that I have a lot of experience to pull me through the inevitable irritations of life. Happy that I have seen so much change in the world. Amazed, in fact. But also saddened that so many things haven't changed.

My paintings are entering a new phase. I don't know what it is, but I'll get back to you when I figure it out.

And I will try to make it soon.

Peace,
Cathy

Getting Things Done....or not

I have two receptions coming up in a few weeks, to introduce my friends and clients to my new studio space. And while I have new work, the reality of operating a studio, shop, a home, taking care of a puppy, making prints and cards, and the sheer fact that a million things always need to be done, and everything is happening at once, means that very little "making art" is getting done.

Or is it? I mentioned last time about filling my well. Now my well runneth over. I am realizing that there will never be enough cards made, that clients can order prints, that I don't have to sweep the floor every time leaves are tracked in, and I don't have to cook all that much. But, I need to paint before I lose my mind!

While I can search for creative ways to do the laundry, the fact remains that I must paint to stay sane. Brushes full of paint seem to have a magical healing power, and the very act of making strokes on the paper, canvas, or anything seems to calm my frazzled nerves. It is an addiction. I can go several days after creating something, but then I start to lose it. Tonight will be a painting night. The puppy is exhausted from walking, digging, getting a bath, training, playing, and acting like a little terrorist. Once the laundry comes out of the drier, it is my time.

Must be boring reading this. Just ordinary stuff. Life is pretty much ordinary stuff. That is a good thing. I think it is important to find meaning in the ordinary stuff. Then, when really extraordinary things happen to us, we don't expect them, and they mean a lot more. So, in the course of an ordinary day, I make time to find meaning in all the little occurrences. After all, every load of laundry is different - I am always amused by what I find that comes out of the pockets! Peace and cheers, keep the faith.

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.

The Time Has Come

I have come to realize that perhaps I am not good at keeping a daily blog, or even weekly for that matter. But since I enjoy it, I will continue. This forum gives me the opportunity to bare my soul, and share my innermost thoughts with total strangers.

Doesn't sound like a good deal? Maybe it is. Only through self-expression can we move forward. My art is a great vehicle for expressing my ideas and feelings, but the written word will continue to have tremendous power in our lives.

So here's the deal...it is time to talk about a rather "fringe" topic in society - that of mental health. I can envision readers rolling their eyes, getting uncomfortable, maybe even thinking, "here is just another wacko". But bear with me for a few sentences, and consider the impact that mental health has on our society. Stress is a mental health issue, and is the leading cause of workplace absenteeism in our society. We are bombarded with new technology on a daily basis, and expected to learn new skills which even 10 years ago did not exist. Our children are glued to screens instead of books, and texting instead of talking.

In the midst of all this, there is an alarming epidemic of humans who have mental health issues. Maybe you do. I certainly do. I struggle with a brain chemical disorder on a daily basis. My health plan treats my illness like it is not quite legitimate, making the task of seeking help very difficult, and inevitably, quite costly.

We are often frightened by what we do not understand. But unlike a new remote, or fancy cell phone that we can ignore, the problem of mental health cannot be shoved aside. Mental health problems are a silent epidemic that are only noticed when someone with a mental health problem is messing up - breaking the law, behaving in unusual ways, or drawing attention to themselves.

Most of us with brain illnesses are able to navigate through society quietly, using tools we have learned to survive, or even thrive in our complicated world. Some are not so fortunate. I am quite fortunate - I have a support system, good physicians, and I am able to make art. On the downside, I cannot keep a rigid, demanding schedule, or be superwoman anymore. Despite my health issues, I can still contribute to society and my family. Art has given me that opportunity.

If you are still reading this, you are either crazy like me, and understand, or are perhaps curious...or enjoying the voyeurism that blogging provides. It doesn't matter to me. What matters is that somewhere out there, someone read the message that they are not alone. Or someone out there learned a little bit about mental health.

Perhaps you won't come back. That is okay. I still plan to write when I am able, talking about boats, art, and common struggles. In fact, over the past few weeks, stories are piling up! That is okay, too. Just the fact that I am out on the boat, or making art is a healthy thing. When the time comes to sit in front of this screen, I will be back. I still want to talk about pea soup fog, and pricing art work. But not today.

Peace and prosperity,
Cathy

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

Moving On and More Money

From time to time, we all have to move - to a new house, to a new job, or perhaps onto new relationships.

Currently, I am moving into a new art studio at Savage Mill. (Of course, the rent is higher.) More money. I tend to have high expectations, but I have quickly learned that high expectations cannot be applied to moving. One would think this is obvious, given the fact that I have completed all sorts of moves, but with each new situation, hope springs eternal - until the inevitable problems crop up.

The first step is getting maintenance work done to the space. Usually, the last tenant seems to always have strange taste in wall colors, so painting is required. Since my studio does double duty as a gallery, I bought paint in a color I liked for the maintenance crew to use. More money. After a week, the remaining blood red wall is staring at me defiantly. Work was delayed because the HVAC system wasn't working, so everyone's space was like a sauna, and the maintenance crew was feverishly working to help the merchants and customers cool, in more ways than one.

Until the walls are complete, the floor cannot be cleaned. Until the floors are cleaned, furniture and art supplies cannot be moved in. Then there is the old carpet my husband and I managed to roll up to be removed, which I keep tripping over. And the wall sized mirror, just an accident waiting to happen.

Then there is the lighting situation. The space has great ceiling lights, but no wall switches. A step ladder is needed to turn them on and off, so an electrician has to be hired to put in wall switches. More money. (The tenant in the space next door just ran extension cords to the wall outlets, but the look is not what I am going after.)

Since there were no wall switches, the prior tenant left the lights on continuously, and all of the bulbs are dead. More money. (I found this out the hard way, but I did get a free electroshock treatment.) Some of the dead bulbs are actually fused into the fixtures, so the lighting fixtures may be ruined, which means new lights will need to be installed. More money.

After cleaning up broken light bulbs, I left. It is Friday. My husband and I are taking a long weekend on our boat, and I can paint, and put all this on the back burner for three days. Some say I set my expectations too high. But how can great things be achieved without great expectations? Life is full of mediocrity. Every once in a while, it is nice to see high expectations realized - but not when moving!

Lesson learned. Actually four lessons - one (1) needs to be patient, or (2) just do it yourself, and (3) plan to throw a lot of money at whatever you are trying to do. Kind of like owning a boat. And last but not least, (4) expect the best, but prepare for the worst!

To all those who are moving on, good luck!

Cathy