There's a party in my mailbox

I’m on a roll! For the second day in a row, I’ve skipped out to check the mail and found I’ve received a package containing a bunch of copies of a catalog that features my work!

Today I found a nice fat envelope from the good folks at the ART In Embassies Program. A catalog has been created to document the artworks currently on display at the Embassy in Yaounde, Cameroon, and I am one of the fortunate artists whose work is included.

Below are the catalog pages which show my paintings. (I smiled to discover that “spray paint” in French translates to “bombe aérosol” ! It is, after all, an “aerosol bomb,” isn’t it?)

The catalog includes an eloquent introduction by Ambassador Janet E. Garvey, who selected my work and that of 6 other Massachusetts artists for exhibition at the Embassy. Her essay includes: “In the playful pair of works by Catherine Carter, the artist’s lines follow infinite permutations within a finite space.”

Thank you, Ambassador Garvey, I am truly honored. And more than a little bit excited!

My work inside the new "Studio Visit"

Yay! I have a two-page spread in the hot-of-the-presses, first edition (volume 2) of "Studio Visit," a magazine published by Open Studios Press, the folks who produce "New American Paintings." The juror for this edition was Michael Lash, Museum and University Arts Consultant and former Director of Public Art for the City of Chicago.

I'm also happy to report that Deborah Bohnert, one of my absolute favorite artists, is also featured in this issue. I am definitely in excellent company.

Confession: I have applied to "New American Paintings" almost every year since I finished graduate school in 1998, and I have never been accepted. The repeated rejections only steeled my determination. But as the years rolled by, I started having visions of myself on my death bed, opening an acceptance letter from Open Studios Press as my last act on earth. So getting into this magazine is one thing I can cross off my "to do in this lifetime" list. (Now I can turn my attention to climbing Mount Everest, or vacuuming under the couch.)

With a little bit of luck

My work is getting out into the world ... it's being offered, anyway, and I'll see what kind of results I get.

A local corporation that regularly buys work by Boston-area artists has asked to look at 15 of my paintings, with a presentation day in a few weeks, so hopefully that will lead to a purchase.

Also I'm about to enter four juried shows in May, and I've got optimistic hopes for getting work into at least several of those.

When we were in our 20s, my friends and I had a rule amongst ourselves: If you were dating someone you liked, you never told your friends any details about him unless at least three dates had gone by and things seemed to be going well. If you talked about him too much too soon, he was bound to stop asking you out. Same thing with job interviews. Even if an interview seemed to go extremely well, you never talked about the job with your friends until you were definitely offered it, or that would be "bad luck" as well. So I hope I'm not jinxing my chances at any of these opportunities if I blog about them, but I'm so excited about the prospects that I can't resist!

The painting shown at the top of this entry is an oldie but goodie of mine, made in 1998. A friend of a friend (who's now a friend), a resident of New Zealand, fell in love with it when she saw it on my website and eventually purchased it. (I was particularly flattered because she is a talented artist herself.)

That was an unlikely but fortunate destination for a work of mine ... I hope that some of my newer work has this much luck with sales and shows!

The gift of a smile

I currently teach at Framingham State College, and one of my colleagues, Jim Eng, is retiring as a painting professor at the end of this semester, after an impressive teaching career there of 35 years. (Now with close-cropped hair, he tells me he had a ponytail down his back when he was hired.)

I will miss working with Jim very much. Whenever I think of him, I am reminded of how much power we have to help others with just a small gesture.

When I began teaching at Framingham State in 2002, I had only taught one class before, as a teaching assistant, so this was my first "real" experience in the classroom. On my first day, I was asked to attend a meeting of all the instructors in the department, and I felt shy and intimidated. I was used to being one of the students, not a professor!

The others chatted among themselves just before the meeting got underway, and I felt like I was at one of those parties where everyone else knows each other, but you don't a soul, and you think you stick out like a sore thumb!

Jim saw that I was new and uncomfortable, and he immediately approached me, gave me a friendly smile and shook my hand warmly. "Welcome to the department," he said, "and don't hesitate to ask me if you have any questions about anything."

I did have questions, a lot of them, and I have asked for his help often over the past six years that we have been working together. Jim has given freely of his time and advice whenever I asked for input or information, but he has always treated me kindly and as a peer, rather than an experienced professor talking to a greenhorn. He has also generously recommended me for a number of teaching positions, which added experience to my resume and cash to the coffers.

It just goes to prove how much confidence and support we can give others, by simply offering a smile, a handshake and a few encouraging words!

The view of the Framingham State College campus, shown above, was painted in my Summer 2006 watercolor class by a talented graduate student named Ellen Osborne.

Shedding my skin

Every spring I sort through things and discard what’s no longer needed, and this season is no different …

Except in what I’ve thrown away.

I have always firmly believed that writing down one’s goals helps bring them into actuality. In fact, I would go so far as to say it’s very unlikely that dreams and wishes will come true if you don’t write them down. And if you do write them down, I believe that nothing can stop them from happening.

Having been a subscriber to this concept since 1991 (when I went back to college to earn a bachelor’s degree at age 30), I have scrupulously written down my goals, the steps needed for them to be realized, and the date by which I wished to achieve them, and I have updated these lists and charts every six months or so. I’ve always kept them in a notebook so I can review my latest goals easily, and look back over past achievements and give thanks that they have come true.

I’ve also kept diaries for years, in bound blank books with fabric covers. Not filled with daily “what I did” types of entries, but stories of my frustrations and confusions when I didn’t know what to do about certain situations in my life and didn’t want to burden someone else with my troubles.

Yesterday, while doing my usual spring cleaning, I had the strong and sudden urge to get rid of all these old notebooks and diaries from the past 17 or so years. I flipped through a few of them and skimmed here and there, just to make sure I was doing the right thing. As I did so, it dawned on me … these things are IN MY PAST. If there were lessons to be learned from the events I was writing about, I have already internalized them. If a certain goal was achieved years ago, I have long since used it as a stepping stone to a subsequent goal.

I knew that it was time to let these old words and dreams and experiences go, to make room for new ones. Now that they have been discarded, I feel lighter and ready to move forward.

Note: The above photo was taken by my husband, Kevin, in my studio.

By the way, the BEST BOOK ON THE PLANET when it comes to achieving one's dreams is Wishcraft by Barbara Sher. That book totally changed my life. I have achieved so many -- most, in fact -- of the goals I set out to accomplish over the years -- from earning a master's degree when I had no money to becoming a professional artist when I had no experience to losing 30 pounds despite the fact that I love to eat -- all thanks to her ideas and methods. Love her.

The mad scientist

I felt like a crazy chemist in the lab this morning, after the pouring project above (that started out as an aborted collage). As usual, I "shouldn't" be painting today. It's not on my to do list, which is chockfull of errands, job-related tasks, a dental cleaning and the fact that I haven't exercised yet. But I'd rather be in my studio, so I stole a few minutes to chuck some paint before I moved on to "real life."

An organic trip for the imagination

Julia Cameron wrote of the benefit of "artist dates" in the first of her much-loved series The Artist's Way. She advised artists to try one new and unusual adventure on a weekly basis, preferably alone and hopefully free of charge, in order to give the imagination a little nudge and "fill the well," as she put it.

Yesterday I went to hear an organ concert at the Saint Anthony of Padua Parish in New Bedford, Massachusetts. No sense in trying to verbalize what was essentially a non-verbal experience, but suffice it to say, my imagination got quite a workout! Not only was the voice of the organ magnificent, the playing of the organist brilliant, and the interior of the church astounding (see photo above), but the program included one of my favorite pieces, "Carnival of the Animals" by Saint-Saens.

Imagine a giant reed instrument making sounds that call to mind the gliding of a swan, the striding of a lion, the pecking of a chicken, and the creeping of a tortoise! I had so much fun. I'm sure I experienced the creative benefits that Ms. Cameron was writing about.

For more information about the church's organ series (there's another concert coming up on May 4), visit their web site here.

Art making a difference

I have had another painting placed by the Art Connection, the third piece I've donated through them so far. This one is will go to Victory Housing on Warren Street, a new residential program in Boston for adults who are homeless.

I believe the Art Connection to be a most worthy organization. I see so much need around me, locally and globally. People are poor, ill, lonely, depressed, desperate, hungry, down on their luck. It can be overwhelming to figure out how to help, especially when I can just about pay my bills at the end of the month.

But if I can't help with money, I can help with art. I like to think someone who visits one of the community service organizations that has selected my work through the Art Connection might be cheered by seeing my painting, or relaxed by it, or in some way have their spirits renewed or uplifted. There is a powerful potential for good when we come in contact with a work of art that has been created lovingly by human hands, and given in a spirit of hope and sharing.

While I believe that everyone has innate creative ability, we as visual artists have been given a special kind of creativity that not everyone is blessed with. We can best give thanks for this gift by using it in service of others.

It's wonderful to help deserving public-service organizations with money, if you have it. But if you have art to give, that has the potential to be just as valuable.

New life for old paintings

Today I put together some squares cut from old paintings and adhered to ten-inch-square cradled boards. These seem to work better than the original paintings; the patterns working off of each other have just enough complexity to intrigue but not overwhelm visually.

Collage from leftover scraps

Here's a new painting I finished this afternoon. It's taken me about a week just to cut out all these circles, here and there while watching TV. They are the leftover scraps from my presidential portrait collage (see here). I thought they looked cool, sort of like pixels, and I liked the way the different values create space. This piece is 40 inches square.

Here's a closer look at the circles. It's amazing what you can find in the "trash."

Picturing what you want

One of my absolute favorite art bloggers, Martha Marshall, wrote about a wonderful dream she had in this recent entry, titled "A Beautiful Dream."

I was so inspired by her dream that I have decided to create an experience like this for myself, on the theory that we attract what we visualize. Often we imagine the outcome that we fear; why not imagine the one that we desire?

I'm going to try, whenever I have a quiet moment available, such as just before I drift off to sleep, imagining being the artist in a scenario similar to the one in Martha's dream. Perhaps it will help bring this visualization into my reality. If nothing else, it will certainly be a more enjoyable experience than imagining a scene of rejection or failure. (Either symbolically, like dreaming I'm trying to open the door of the gallery and finding it locked, or realistically, like imagining I go into the gallery and they say, "We think your work sucks!")

The picture at the top of this blog entry is of a painting I made back in 1998. I ended up continuing on with it until this particular view was covered. But I'm glad I happened to capture this stage in a photo. There are some lovely shapes and colors in here, and it shows how experimental and playful my work can be.

It was a big piece, 68" by 64", and it's made of pieces of cloth I had colored with acrylic paint and oil sticks, and then cut up and glued onto stretched canvas with gel medium. I love it so much, maybe I'll try going back to this technique for a change.

Come on, deliver!

“Could it be? Yes, it could! Something's coming, something good, if I can wait. Something's coming, I don't know what it is, but it is gonna be great!”

I’ve been feeling frustrated lately. I sense that something great is just around the corner (as Tony says in “West Side Story”), but it’s not here yet, and I’m impatient from waiting!

I tried to combat these feelings over the weekend by distracting myself with fantasy, watching episodes of “Kung Fu” and hoping that Caine’s calm demeanor would rub off on me. No such luck. I’d be way too antsy to last for five minutes in a Shaolin temple.

So this morning I tried the practical route – listing all the exhibits, grants, commission inquiries, and other professional opportunities I’ve applied for or been contacted about, along with their specified notification dates, if available. There are ELEVEN separate possibilities that I’m waiting to hear back about!

In doing this, I realized that only a few of them will likely be resolved before May 1. Discovering this doesn’t make me any less impatient, but at least I see that I’m going to have to find patience SOMEWHERE, because the answers aren’t going to come right away.

Meanwhile, since the David Carradine approach didn’t work, I’m trying to do what all the New Age-y books suggest, and remember a time in my life when I anticipated something wonderful and it did indeed happen. In the fall of 2001, I applied for a prestigious grant. So much time went by that I forgot I’d even applied. Then one morning the following June, I received an envelope with no return address on it. I opened it and out fell a check made out to me from the grant foundation – for $2,000!

Hopefully, history will repeat itself.