Heartsong Studio

When you’re working on a particularly challenging piece of art, do you tend to get tight ?  Do you sometimes take shallow breaths ?  If you need a transition from the stress of the rest of your life into art making,  there’s a way of calming your horses, in this article: “When your thoughts are like runaway horses”, by Celeste
Varley.

Do you take the stress from other situations with you when you get the time to work on your art ?  Maybe you’ve had an argument,  felt criticized, or experienced a difficult exchange with someone.  Your
hands may even be a bit unsteady.  How can you calm your troubled thoughts so they don’t spill over into your art ?

Think about times when you are working on a passage of your artwork which is very exacting.  When you require steady hand control, watch what you tend to do.  Many people hold their breath, or breathe very shallowly.  Often the heart beats like galloping horses.

Doing work with fine hand control, you need to be quite calm so it’s just such times as this when you want to be relaxed and at
ease.   How can you relax when you’re concentrating on a challenging  situation and adrenalin is still flowing ?
 
First of all, don’t even try.  Accept the fact that you’re tense and it’s okay.  Like a team of horses, you can’t calm them with force, but only with respect.  So hold your horses gently, and not your breath. 

While we can control our breath to a certain extent, we are totally dependent on breathing air continuously as long as we live.  Though we cannot stop it completely, we can influence the pace and consciously slow down our breathing. 

Have you ever seen a horse trainer gently crooning or lightly whistling to an upset horse ?

Try this:  Before you start to work, settle in to being exactly how you are in that moment.  Acknowledge your own frisky horses. Then take a couple of full, easy breaths.  Picture your breath coming into your heart and hum gently to yourself.  Soon your breathing will match your slow steady heartbeat.

When you feel collected, centred, and at ease, then start work. This only takes a couple of minutes, and will start you off with more wholeness of body, mind, and spirit.  Softly singing, humming, or whistling will steady your nerves and focus your vision.  Slow, full breathing and the matching heartbeat can become a habit and
take place automatically with very little conscious effort. 

Some artists coordinate hand-eye-heart by listening to music while they work.  Some  music, perhaps dissonant, or mechanical, could interfere with your inner rhythm.  As long as the music matches your natural mood or pace this can be a wonderful help .  

The Indian philosopher Aurobindo, who was also a poet, remarked that the consistent practice of an art, in the end, constitutes a
kind of yoga.

A few artists, unconsciously whistle or sing while they work.  They do it very softly, more or less in the rhythm of a slow heart beat. It is an instinctive way of regulating the breath in order to centre and detach themselves from the noises of the surface mind. 

This might become something akin to natural prayer. You might talk to your brush or pencil or chisel and coax it to - - - “see this line wants to go this way here, and recede there. . .the skin curves round the bone there. . . and wrinkles right here.”

Finally the moment will come, when all this is forgotten and your hand moves naturally in tune with your heart, spontaneously
becoming the bird or grass, tree  or model, and you melt into the essence of the thing.

“Spirit” and “inspire” are from the same root word, like the French “respirer” to breathe.  Isn’t it inspiring that every inhalation contains particles of air which have come from all over the world -
a mustang on the prairies,  a grandmother in Indonesia,  a dolphin in the Pacific, an alpaca in Peru, an earthworm in your garden, Leonardo daVinci, the Dalai Lama . . . ?

Every exhalation circulates out to other far flung corners of the world in return.

Singing with your heart can lead the way to holistic connection and integration with the world.  It could help you to take part in the
mysterious rhythm of life as you engage in art making. 

‘Holding your horses’ can be a very gentling activity, and it will probably influence your work too.

“A bird doesn’t sing because it has an answer, it sings because it has a song.”  Maya Angelou

May your heart sing and take flight.
“Oh, for a horse with wings !” Shakespeare
Celeste Varley,
Heartsong Studio - Helping the creative spirit to soar.

Do you struggle at the start of each new work of art ?  Overcoming the drag to reach lift-off can sap your time and energy.
There’s a secret to avoiding the drag of flying in this article.

“When it takes so much to get going.”

Most artists I know haven’t the luxury of making art full time.  I know I don’t.  Like most of us, you probably have to fit art into
other obligations and everyday activities.  Maybe you cannot afford to work at your art every day.  But does this mean that you aren’t a “real” artist, or that art has to be “merely” a hobby or frill for you ?

You probably have inspirations for works you’d love to explore, and dreams of grace and beauty in the making.  Swans are birds of grace and beauty, at least when they glide along on the water.

But when you finally do make some delicious time for your art, how much energy does it take before you are actually flying ?  There’s assembling the appropriate canvas, paper, wood, clay, instruments,
and other media.  Then there’s the long, still, contemplation period to tap into the heart of your interest.  This may require
much drawing, even measuring, envisioning, meditating, mixing, and
so on, to get this flight underway.

For an elegant bird like a swan to take off and achieve flight, it takes far more effort and energy in the first few seconds than it
takes for most of the time on the wing.  Have you ever watched a swan, a duck, or a goose trying to overcome the drag and achieve lift-off ?  There’s a great splashing and galloping of legs, great beating of wings lifting, lifting, fighting the water’s drag.

And then, on the best of days, finally, finally, you have lift-off. Then you’re flying and all is well.  Some birds can ride across
continents or oceans, without flapping their wings, riding thermal lifts which come from below.

As long as they trim their wings in equal  balance, they can continue to glide.  But if they lose the updraft, and speed slows
beyond a certain point, they stall.  Once stalled, they will fall unless they flap their wings again. 

It’s the same with art making.  Once the huge effort of beginning is accomplished, it can be relatively smooth gliding.  Of course,
there are always places where it’s good to pause on purpose, or be stalled by the work itself. 

A short eye rest, looking at distant things, a walk or cup of tea doesn’t interrupt the flow of your work, and you can return refreshed.  You can grab another updraft, find another thermal, ride another jet stream, as long as this piece is still in the
making.

You may have noticed that the longer you paint, draw, throw pots, write articles, play music, write poetry, the more ideas and
inspirations come to you.  While you’re in the midst of one of these wonderful adventures, when an idea alights, grab it !

Hidden somewhere in your present work lie the seeds of your next work.  It might be somewhat related, or it might come out of a
challenge within the present piece that you want to face head-on.  Or both.

Make a note of your vision or idea to make a related piece.  Actually make a tiny start on this new idea, if you can. A brief note, a quick sketch, or a drawing during a break can give you the brief rest you need.  Then you can return to the main work with fresh eyes.

Eventually, hours or days later, these transatlantic, transcontinental birds need to land.  Landing on water looks like water skiing, with wings thrown into reverse thrust.  The last bit, when they drop softly into the water takes less effort than the
original take-off.  But as the breast is lowered to rest, they’ve hit the bottom of the cycle.  No more flying is possible without that great kafuffle of lift-off.

Eventually, hours, days, weeks, or months later, your artwork will be finished.  That’s the part I dislike; when it’s over.  It’s the
let down of the end of the adventure.  It’s the empty nest syndrome.  You’ll need to sign it, clean up your media, frame it,
or whatever you do with a finished piece.  But these tasks only cover your mood of dropping the flow of creative energy.   It’s
still over.

Do you know this secret to avoiding drag and drop ?
===================================================
There is a way to avoid the initial effort of take-off and the let down at the end too.  If the greatest effort is needed to get started, then why not stay aloft ?  If you kept some note of all the inspirations that came to you out of the work that was in progress, then there will be no need to completely land.  No need to go through that superhuman effort of fighting drag again and again.

It’s a good idea to have at least two pieces underway, or at least started at the same time.  Then with a necessary break at the end of one, your next work will be waiting for you, already underway.  When you next get a chance to fly, all you’ll need do is start flapping your wings, and you’ll soon be soaring again.

May your art sing and take flight !

“Uncommon Sense”

We have expressions like “leading around by the nose” and “as plain as the nose on your face”, yet our noses’ sense of smell isn’t very good.  Would you dare to allow your nose to seduce you deeper into
artistic expression ?

The sense of smell is probably the  weakest of all senses for most people in the modern world.  Though smell used to be more keenly developed when humans needed it for survival.

In our culture, we go to great lengths to avoid any “unpleasant” odours.  Funny thing - to avoid our weakest sense ! 

Maybe it’s because our sense of smell is so weak, that odours can evoke the strongest, long forgotten memories and emotions.

What does an aroma look like ?  The delicate scent of violets ? The first apple blossom ?  The sweet smell of hay in an old barn ?  A pressed flower in an antique diary ?

Being there, experiencing the scents of the locale, can add a whole rich patina to your expression, for which we lack words.

In dogs, the sense of smell is hundreds of times more acute than ours.  It could be said that dogs’ sense of smell replaces our
sense of sight in importance.  Watch a dog inhaling the many odours on one blade of grass.  They can discern what animal was there, its sex and state of health, just for a start.

It would be a terrible distraction if our sense of smell were as acute as a dog’s. 

At most perfume counters, there is a small dish of coffee beans. Our noses need frequent refreshing, between each perfume sampled. The smell of coffee refreshes it somehow. This gives new meaning to the expression “Wake up and smell the coffee”. 

I’ve known a couple of people who were born without any sense of smell or taste, yet they seem to live quite rich lives without these senses. 

Here’s a tip, and a dare, for the most inspiring, deeply earthy aroma you’ll ever find.  This is one of my secret pleasures, until now. . . 

Find a dog who will let you bury your nose right in between the pads of its front foot. Inhale  deeply.  It’s the most elusive,
deeply mysterious smell on earth !

I must admit, I’ve never trusted a cat with my nose between its pads.  Those claws can be sharp.  But if you have a cat you trust,
try its foot’s smell.  I  imagine it might be like a tiger’s, whatever that’s like.  Maybe more acidic than a dog’s. . .

You could also begin with a smell, and grow a whole work of art from this one scent.  That’s how evocative odours can be.
 
What would you create from the smell of inside an old Cuban cigar box ?  What about wet wicker ?  Or the seashore at low tide ?  The scent of soup heating in a warm kitchen when you first come in on a cold day ?  Or the scent in a cool glade on a hot day ?  The compost heap ?

Often in walking through woods of evergreens and deciduous trees, there are ribbons of scent that remind me of Christmas spices.  My smeller fades too quickly for me to trace this odour.  Could be
there’s mistletoe growing higher up in a tree.

Whatever the subject of your work at the moment, just taking a smelling expedition in relation to it, can have a profound effect.
Not directly, perhaps, not illustrating a smell,  but becoming your subject.

Opening up your olfactory senses, and with them, your old memories, will translate into your work indirectly.  Your expression will be enhanced quite unconsciously,  and so will your viewers’ perception of your work.

Close your eyes and remember how a dusty road smells after a good rain ; the pungent odour of wet dog’s fur ; soggy mittens and
sheep. 

A field of golden grass in the sun smells distinctly different from the same field of grass, sodden and cold.  Stale cigarette smell reeks forever.  The smell of delicate bones of a long decomposed bird is the most delicate, just beyond elusive smell there is.

Give your nose a special vacation.  Secret smells may lead you around by the nose and enrich your sensual pleasure.  Smells can take you way back to your childhood.  It can travel all the way down your arm and into your work. 

Oil painters know this.  That’s why many artists like using oils. Moist clay has its own odour.  Cutting and welding metal has quite
an acrid smell.  Cutting open all types of wood  releases many different resin perfumes.

Even if your medium doesn’t have much characteristic scent, don’t mask natural scents with air deodorizers or perfume when you work. 

Help your nose come back to life.  It wants to get into the action, and plug you into a broader sensuality.

Was that too raunchy for you ?
Care to share your secret odour experience ?

The moment you take up your charcoal to draw, does a stillness fall within ?  Can the hand-eye-heart connection be turned on and off like a switch ?  I hope your jitters are calmed by this article:

“What draws you closer ?”

Do you remember learning to drive ?  You probably practiced with a licensed driver beside you for a few weeks before passing your test and driving solo.

Learning to really see things in order to draw them with connection, is a lot like learning to drive. It’s a new concept for many artists. 

At first, you want to look at your feet and the gear shift lever. Coordinating the clutch release with the accelerator is nerve
wracking.  No wonder they often teach new drivers in a big empty parking lot.  How can you do all this new stuff and still look at
the road ahead where you’re going ?

Learning to see into a subject, and draw directly from your eyes’ caressing it, feels awkward at first too.  Most of us are so used to drawing what we (think we) know it looks like, and watching our hand. 

Course in driving a car, the penalty for not looking where you’re going is self-evident, and an overwhelming motivator for keeping
your eyes on the road ahead. 

Would you ever say: “I know every curve in this road, I don’t need to see the road ahead.” ?  I’ll look at the gear shift lever, the radio dial, my cell phone. . .

The penalty for not seeing into the subject of our drawing is not as immediately obvious perhaps.  Only if you have seen drawings which pull you in with such passionate connection, will you know
what you’d be missing.

Of course, while driving you need to occasionally look in the rear view or side mirrors, or at the speedometer.   Soon it becomes automatic, only a glance, while keeping your main focus on the road
ahead.

While seeing-drawing, you need to check occasionally where your drawing tool needs to be relocated - one-third of the way from this point to the next line, for example.  This soon becomes automatic too, only a glance, while keeping your main focus on the line ahead.

Many have tried seeing-drawing for a short while and assumed it doesn’t work for them.  Even very practiced artists who employ this approach, almost always have to “warm up”.   Every other kind of
drawing uses a warm up period to get the juices flowing too.

Sometimes this priming up period lasts a very long time.  Even for very accomplished artists, that ’sacred stillness within’ doesn’t
switch on the moment you pick up the pen, pencil or charcoal. 

Often you’ll be in a state of acute agitation.  The first few drawings of a model will be nervous scribbles.  At first, the eye
cannot focus, and the hand doesn’t obey.  It is often like you collide visually with the model or subject, and struggle.

Our minds run through resentment, fault finding, and other excuses for the excessive demands on us.  The ego mind is straining too hard.  The hand keeps fighting the eyes.  The eye is shifty, does not see - it looks instead.  Flits over the surface as the brain meddles with every stroke.

Finally, if you don’t give into your everyday mind, something deeper will take over.  If you stick with opening to connection, the subject in front of you will have its say and your eyes will begin to start understanding.

Then the subject will speak to you visually - the sadness in her eyes, the eagerness in the tree’s new buds, a wrinkle in the water
that speaks volumes.  Then you’re seeing again !  All reticence disappears.  It’s like being in love.

At other times, you might spring easily into action and feel as though you’re in top form.  Then when looking over your harvest the next day, end up crumpling it all up and throwing it away. 

As long as the ego tries to force it, seeing-drawing is impossible. Once the ego lets go, it becomes effortless.

Occasionally I have heard artists refer to seeing-drawing as “blind drawing”.  This  started as a joke about how it feels at the
beginning.  The only thing blind is the ego mind, which prefers to make “knowing-drawings”.

Most people think they’re good drivers.  But many must not be as skilled as they thought or there wouldn’t be so many car accidents.
 
Exactly the same goes for drawing.  Nobody ever completes their apprenticeship in seeing into life.  If you allow it, drawing can
open you to ever deeper connections inside and out.  Seeing-drawing can draw you in to becoming one with everything you draw.

When you draw, letting your eyes lead, the objects which captivate your heart seem to ask to be drawn.  When this happens you become intimately drawn closer. There is a passage in the Song of Songs of the Old Testament  - “Draw me and we shall run”.

Not familiar with the term seeing-drawing ?
You can see for yourself by downloading my free guidebook:  “How you can draw by learning to see”.  This is only an introduction.  It’s in your hands how far you run with it.

All the best to you and your art,
Celeste Varley
Heartsong Studio - Helping the Creative Spirit to Soar.
http://www.heartsongstudio.com