Ideas trickling in

As I wrote in my last post, I've put my art-making on hold, for as long as it takes to: 1. give my brain and body a rest, and/or 2. realize what might be a new direction for my paintings.

I feel like I've done so much with pure line and I don't want to redo former styles or techniques. Yet there's a commercially minded part of me that's afraid of shedding previous directions altogether, since an artist is "supposed" to maintain an identity. This part of me is concerned that I'll appear inconsistent if I try something too different.

But none of this means that my creative valve has been shut off completely. I have a notebook beside my bed that I'm filling with sketches of spontaneous ideas for new painting possibilities. These ideas seem to be inspired by a wide variety of sources, which are not necessarily specifically art sources.

For instance, yesterday I was watching one of those travel shows on TV, an episode on Ireland, in which the host described the many stone walls there. The cameraman shot one of the stone walls almost completely from the side, with only a bit of sky showing over the top of the wall, so that the light from the open field behind streamed through the interesting irregularly shaped spaces between the stones.

I thought, what a great idea for a painting -- lots of odd shapes crammed together across the picture plane (I wouldn't have any space across the top), so that the work became all about the negative spaces. This could be reminiscent of a painting I made some years back (shown at the top of this post), only with different-sized shapes that were more irregularly placed.

Also, yesterday my husband showed me a wonderful blog entry with extreme examples of decalomania, which seemed like it had great possibilities. It sounds basically like a form of monoprint, but these particular examples used TONS of paint in a small space, so that the suction when you pull the paper off creates ridge-like gatherings of the paint.

I have worked like this before (see image at left), but when I saw that example I thought, what about doing this with huge BLOBS of paint, not thin lines? The paints would fill the page and be forced to interact in an undirected, unpredictable way, which could be very fun.

So these little ideas keep trickling in. I still don't feel the call to actually grab a bottle of paint and start playing. I'm still so fried from all the effort I poured in to my teaching during the last school year, which only ended on Saturday (not to mention that I just started a new semester yesterday, which includes a five-week class in July and three separate week-long classes in August). So I think I still need a break from the studio.

Part of my non-art time is helping my body to heal itself and figuring out how to take care of it better as I head toward my 50s. This includes vitamin supplements, regular exercise, a healthy diet, plenty of sleep, ongoing reiki treatments, and planned time in the sun and outdoors in nature. I want to build up my immune system, to make sure I never get as sick again as I did last winter (8 straight weeks of the flu).

My mother said to me recently, "Remember that your two greatest assets are your health and your art. Choices you make to expend time and energy need to honor those two assets first and foremost." I believe these are very wise words, and I'm trying to take her advice.

Phew, project finished!

WOW! It took me ALL DAY yesterday, and about five hours this morning, to take a complete inventory of all the work in my studio and record it on the computer! And that doesn't even include all the works on paper; there must be at least 50 of them that are good enough to be mounted on canvas.

Now I have a complete set of pages detailing titles, dimensions, materials, sizes, years completed, retail prices, and images ... for each piece.

You learn a lot about yourself by "taking stock" like this. I tried to be impartial and business-like while I was doing it, because if I had lingered too long in my memories of each individual piece, I never would have finished.

What have I learned from the experience? I think I need to get out of the studio for a while. I know that sounds strange for an artist to say. We're supposed to WORK, WORK, WORK, right? Produce, get the work out there, make a name for ourselves, sell sell sell?

Well, my best works are reflections of those moments in time when I was digging deep down inside and using the art materials to honestly communicate what I found. I've been getting a little "commercial" in my inspirations lately, a little repetitive of what I know works, and I need to spend some time "on the mountaintop" and re-evaluate who I am as an artist and how to best express myself.

Or maybe not think about art at all ... forget the whole thing for a while.

But it feels good to have put in this effort. Now I know exactly what I have in those storage racks! Honestly, though, I had no idea it was going to take this long or be this labor-intensive ... if I had realized what I was getting into, I might have procrastinated!

The painting at the top of this blog is one of the best paintings I've ever made. It's from 1997, when I was in graduate school. It's acrylic and oil stick on fabric on canvas, 64 inches high by 44 inches wide, called "Niche." It's one of the ones that was hiding downstairs in storage!

Where am I now?

The sorting and organizing continue!

I have to emphasize, to those who don't know me personally, that I am super-organized (maybe even to the point of fanaticism!) and I have an absolute phobia of accumulated STUFF. But even with those natural tendencies, I am finding it absolutely essential to go through my shelves, cabinets and closets on a regular basis and get rid of things I no longer need.

So this morning I'm tackling the "art career" drawer of my filing cabinet. The last time I did anything with it beyond just throwing papers into files (which was February), I had just taken a big step in my ongoing "get the work out there" campaign. That was when I sent a mailing to four local art consultants and nine local galleries. But then I got so busy with teaching and fighting the flu that I haven't touched the project since.

This morning I had a chance to review where I stood four months after the mailing: one scheduled show, two "will keep you in mind" responses, two paintings placed with an art consultant, and one extremely polite and professional rejection letter. Not bad, considering the economic times and the odds in general.

I threw out a lot of paperwork that no longer applies and updated my lists. Now that I know what's what, I can plan my next steps (toward a national mailing), something I couldn't do when I had a drawer stuffed with papers and a vague memory of the various emails and letters I received in response to my mailings.

My point is, even if you're generally organized from day to day, it is my realization that you MUST schedule a "where am I now, where do I want to go, what must I do to get there, what are my next steps" session for yourself at least twice a year if you want your career and life to progress.

Now I am heading downstairs to my studio to update my inventory list, something I haven't done since last fall. A lot of pieces have been placed, sold, painted over, or created since that time.

I'll be honest with you. I wish I could reward myself with a giant hunk of chocolate cake for all of these heroic organizing efforts. But since that's not possible (hello, scale), I'll have to make due with my favorite lentil casserole, carrots, and a baked potato with Bragg's sprinkled liberally on top.

Next stop: my clothes closet!

Happy Father's Day!

Meant to post this yesterday for Father's Day.

It was taken just after my Christening. Obviously a big day, and I was ready for a nap after all the excitement!

My Dad was 33 at the time; I was 4 months old. Happy Father's Day, Daddy! (He is a faithful reader of my blog.)

Inner and outer cleaning

I have a little time to myself this-coming week, and I'm going into "letting go" mode. Not in the mood to create, I'm in the mood to moderate, alter or chuck what I've made in the past. I honestly don't feel that I can move forward as an artist until I take this step.

As a start, I went through all of my old works of paper this morning. Some are beautiful, and ready to be mounted on canvas for exhibition and sale (one at the top of this post). Some are horrible and I've made a pile of them to use to "blot up" excess paint on future paintings. Some aren't satisfactory as individual pieces, but they contain some nice marks here and there that could be cut out and incorporated into some of the small collages I've been making. I've also been planning to make some greeting cards, and this last batch of papers could serve that purpose also.

As if to echo what's going on in the studio, I had a reiki treatment this afternoon. A little inner house-cleaning, to go along with the outer.

When all is weeded, neatened and organized -- my book cases, my clothes closet, my filing cabinet, my teaching supply shelves, and my studio -- my next creative direction will be clear. Now if I can just get it all done within the next 5 days!

Green series

Here's a new grouping of three, acrylic on canvas, 10 inches square:

Spell-binding tales

I am reading a fascinating book titled "The Forger's Spell: A True Story of Vermeer, Nazis, and the Greatest Art Hoax of the Twentieth Century."

I love Sherlock Holmes, scientific experiments, human psychology, and of course art, and they're all wrapped up in these pages.

Among the interesting anecdotes:

One art forger borrowed a Durer self-portrait, painted on a wood panel, from a museum with permission to make a copy. He sawed it in half (parallel to the picture plane, like slicing a loaf of bread), then on the half that had the museum's seals on the back, he painted a copy. He "returned" his forgery to the museum, then sold the original Durer for a small fortune to an unsuspecting collector.

Another forger, the one highlighted in the book's title, whose grand-scale hoax is the focus of the book, spent a small sum on an old painting from a thrift shop in its original stretcher bars and nails. He sanded off the paint and repainted on the old canvas with paint he'd created from PLASTIC, baked it in an oven to create a cracked finish, and passed it off as a "long lost" Vermeer, which he sold in a frantic bidding war that earned him millions. He did this FIVE more times, earning millions more from each forgery. Unsure of what to do with his fortune, he bought house after house in Amsterdam and stashed giant bundles of paper money under the staircases. Among his "best" customers were Hitler and Goering. When questioned, he claimed to have won the French lottery ... twice.

And finally ... a literary take on forgery ... in the late '70s, as an experiment, a "prankster" (I would say performance artist) typed up copies of the manuscript of an award-winning, best-selling novel and mailed them out to fifteen publishers. All 15 rejected them, including the publishing house that had originally printed the book!

Let's face it ... truth is stranger than fiction!

A very Happy Birthday!

My amazing graduate students surprised me (completely!) with a birthday celebration during class this afternoon. I feel so honored to have been so honored! (My card and gift are pictured above; a shot of my delicious cupcakes are shown below.)

I believe all of us have the need to give love, to receive love, and to know that we are doing something that brings good to others. My students let me know, regularly and emphatically, that I am helping them, and this gives me a deep inner joy and satisfaction. This particular group, especially, means a lot to me, not only because they are wonderful people as individuals, but also because they are art teachers themselves, so they know what it's like to nurture others in the classroom.

Thank you to Alexandra, Audrey, Colby, Erin, JBarr, Lisa and Amber! You made me feel loved and very lucky today (and always)!

Lisa wrote the following comment on my blog (in response to this post, specifically), which reveals why I love working with these folks so much:

"Catherine, not only are you a great artist and a wonderful person but, you are a FABULOUS teacher! This paragraph is so demonstrative of your teaching! You make us feel SAFE and good in our OWN light!

"My biggest goal as a teacher is to have my kids feel safe enough to take risks and explore. To create an environment where they feel free enough to enjoy the process and not worry about mistakes. I tell them that there is no such thing as a mistake and that they are really just “happy accidents”. I explain how many artist’s best work has been created from what they thought was a mistake.

"Now, being a student again, I realize that I must extend this practice towards myself. I am my own worst student…..putting pressure on myself to create a “masterpiece”…to get it right. I feel even more pressure now than when I was in college. I am a “veteran art teacher” and therefore I should have even MORE fabulous masterpieces! Thank you for reminding me that just because I do a less than perfect drawing that it doesn’t mean I am a bad artist. Perhaps, I am just having a bad day or just learning a new technique or a new medium. Maybe I have something to learn FROM the drawing or maybe it just plain stinks-no big deal. Isn’t that what life is about? Would we really want perfection all the time? How boring and predicatable.

"When I do a demonstration, I purposely remove my example from the board so the students don’t get hung up on copying it exactly. So, why then do I feel I need to render everything perfectly. Part of the joy in life is our individuality! This is true in art as well. Great art comes when my students take the techniques or project and give it their own interpretation and make it their OWN! Thank you for reminding me of all these points. You inspire me to continue to remind myself of these as a student and a teacher. If I practice this as a student and a teacher then as you stated earlier, I will become a better artist! Thank you for your nurturing, support and your wisdom. I feel blessed to have you as a teacher! ☺ Lisa"

New small pieces

Some new small works, finished this morning, both 4" H x 8" W.

More small works here.

It's up to the artist

I just checked out a new how-to art book from the library, "The Creative Edge: Exercises to Celebrate Your Soul" by Mary Todd Beam, and I found a paragraph of hers (on page 18, headed "Discovering Your Path") to be right in line with my beliefs and experiences as a teacher and as an artist.

She says: "My students often urge me to say something negative about their work. This always amazes me. You get plenty of criticism out in the world -- I don't need to add to it. I want my workshops to be joyful and motivational, not judgemental (sic) and discouraging. I may give my opinion of work in progress and offer suggestions, but I believe you have the right to paint anything you want. I like everything that is executed from the heart, mind and soul."

I too have encountered that belief from certain students who insist on hearing "something negative." Makes no sense to me! Maybe they are used to criticism from childhood and think criticism equals care and attention. But I personally find a warm smile, a gentle hand on the shoulder, and a heartfelt "You're doing fine" more motivating than "This is wrong!"

Mary Todd Beam goes on to say, in the same paragraph: "When it comes to evaluating your own paintings, this is my philosophy: You have really reached a milestone when you don't care what anyone else thinks."

I very much agree. As an undergraduate in art school, you need basic, clearly presented technical advice on the various media and subject matter that you're working with. In graduate school, you need feedback on the clarity of your personal direction as an artist, as expressed through your work. Once you've graduated, IT'S UP TO YOU what you create.

I personally will not accept feedback on my artwork at this point. I have a style that has been honed after many years of hard work and trial and error. As a professional, I make it a point to continually push various aspects of my work -- new colors, different formats and surfaces, changing up the order of steps in my working process. But I refuse to go back to the critique situations of the art classroom.

There can be times in a professional artist's career when people try to give you a critique, I guess because they think you want to hear it. Sometimes gallerists or art professionals offer un-asked-for critiques. Sometimes studio guests make spontaneous comments when viewing your work. There are even some situations I've heard about in which talented artists willingly pay money to hear critiques of their work.

This does not make sense to me, and I will not have my work critiqued at this time in my career. If someone likes my work, that's wonderful; if they don't like my work, that's fine too. Everyone has different tastes, and that's what makes the world go around. Critiques, whether from a teacher or a colleague or an art professional, are personal opinions. They are not appropriate after a certain artistic level has been established.

When you're a professional artist, your viewers "critique" with their feet or their wallets. If they like the work, they will come to see it and/or buy it. If they don't like it, they won't. If you care, you will alter your work accordingly. If you don't, you won't.

Critiquing is different from editing, I believe. Visual artists need feedback from editors (aka curators or gallerists), just as writers do, on which pieces work better than others, which go well together in presentations, etc. But on the basic level of what subject, style or materials to choose, that is up to the artist herself.

Also critiquing as I define it here is different from the writings of an art critic. (BTW, I am also a professional art critic.) The art critic is writing a personal reaction to an artist's show, or presentation of a body of work. The critic should be analyzing a particular exhibition as a viewing experience, not advising the artist on what style of work to create.

Why you should and must bother

You know the saying that artists (and folks in all creative professions) are heard to lament when they're feeling insecure, scared, overwhelmed, etc. : "There are so many artists out there. Why should I bother to add more paintings to the world?" Or some variation thereof.

I have an answer to that cry of despair. Imagine your favorite actor or actress. Remember how much you relish them playing their signature role, or the one that is your absolute favorite. What if they had followed that theory? Being human, it is likely that they felt it at some point. But what if they had heeded it?

What if Gregory Peck had given up as an actor? Who could have played a better Atticus Finch? What if Anne Baxter had given up as an actress? Who could have played Eve Harrington like she did? (These are two of my favorites; substitute their names for your faves, and you'll get the idea.) Without their decision to believe in themselves and keep on truckin', we wouldn't have the joy of savoring their masterful performances.

So think of it this way: you have no right to deprive the world of your talent!

(The picture above is me setting up a show I had in 2004 at Lesley University; my husband took this photo through the window.)