Artist's Home Retreat

"Go instead where there is no path" 50x50" oil /cold wax medium ©Janice Mason Steeves 2011

"Language has created the word 'loneliness' to express the pain of being alone. And it has created the word 'solitude' to express the glory of being alone" Paul Tillich

My week-long home retreat was a much-needed refreshing break. It ended on July 8th, which also happens to be my birthday. Friends came over to help me celebrate. A lovely way to close off the week. I managed to follow all the guidelines I'd set up for myself: see my last blog post for the rules of engagement. I made the 'rules' to set the parameters of the retreat, to encourage myself to unplug as though I were on a small remote island for a week.

I didn't use the computer at all but kept daily notes in my journal of my experience and ideas and thoughts. The occasional twinge of loneliness in the first day or two didn't last long. The creative juices were flowing in abundance in my studio. My focus was on being aware of an attitude of play. As soon as I noticed that my mind became involved, the work tightened up and I became indecisive and tense. I put the work aside, grabbed another painting and let the play continue.

Amazing to me, I also did a lot of cleaning jobs in my house and my studio. I did that in my last retreat and it surprised me both times because those are normally jobs that I can postpone indefinitely. On my hands and knees in a particularly grimy area of my laundry room, I actually thought I could hear my deceased mother-who loved housecleaning-talking to me over my shoulder, telling me how good I was to be doing all these cleaning jobs! Thanks Mum. Maybe I was just spending too much time alone. Anyway, I got some soap and water into many slightly disgusting corners of the house. I have to think that because the retreat feels like such a nurturing time, that cleaning the house and studio have some connection with that. I am cleaning out those corners that need work and making room for new things in my life. I kept telling myself that.

The retreat truly did feel nurturing. Not quite like going to a spa, but caring for myself in another way. I was giving myself the gift of time, of space that expanded, away from daily responsibilities; meetings, appointments, emails and phone calls. I continued to look after myself by going for long walks in the woods, making lovely meals for myself, including homemade chicken soup, which lasted me for the week and zucchini bread. I painted for long hours each day and revelled in the freedom of ideas that seemed to flow. Most evenings, I sat outdoors in my screened-in porch, reading or writing.

Feeling that my creativity seems to greatly increase during these retreats, it was so interesting that during this week, I heard an interview on CBC radio with David Strayer a Professor of Psychology from the University of Utah. He studies the effect of multi-tasking on the brain. He talked about going on a week-long wilderness trip with several colleagues. They decided to leave their computers and cell phones at home. Strayer gave his colleagues a Remote Associates Task, a word association creativity test before they left. After three days on the trip he gave the task again. Their creativity scores increased by 45%.
After three days back at work, their results on the creativity test dropped back. Strayer claims that we have better clarity of thought when we get away from technology and into nature on a regular basis. Even walking in a park for 45 min/day has measurable benefits.

As well as being in nature and unplugging, solitude is also a significant part of the creative process. It was glory to be alone.

Meet the Owners of a Scottish Castle

Anne Tristine Nguyen, Ali Orr Ewing, their children, Ava, Atticus and their dog, Harriet Beecher Stowe. Dunskey Estate, Portpatrick, Scotland Anne Tristine Nguyen and her husband, Alistair Orr Ewing are the owners of Dunskey Estate near Portpatrick, Scotland where I will teach a painting workshop in September. Dunskey is a splendid Edwardian castle on 2000 acres of ocean-front land with miles of walking trails. As well as daily workshop sessions in the studio on the top floor of the castle, our small group of artists will enjoy breathtaking hikes, superb accommodation and fabulous meals. Not having met owners of a castle before, I asked Anne if I could interview her to hear a little of their background story and that of the castle. Can you tell me a little of your personal story and that of your husband, Alistair Orr Ewing? Anne emigrated to America when she was ten years old, but it was at an art gallery in Saigon, her birthplace, where she met Al

The Importance of Silence in Art

Gathering Light 60x60" Oil on canvas © 2014 Janice Mason Steeves Michael David Rosenberg, the musician known as Passenger, sings, "See all I need is a whisper in a world that only shouts." In the workshops I teach, I find that one of the most common problems with paintings is that they shout. Most have too much going on: too many small shapes, too much texture, extremes of colour, too many lines, too much, too much. One thing I say most often as I walk around the classroom working with students individually, is 'make bigger shapes'. But not only bigger shapes. Quiet shapes. Where can your eye go and rest in the painting? That isn't a consideration in much of contemporary painting or much of contemporary life. Ours is a noisy world both visually and auditorily. Ours is a world that shouts. People are afraid of silence. I wrote a blog post 3 years ago about planning a retreat in my own home, where I shut off the computer and the phon

Liminal Time

The word liminal comes from the Latin, limen meaning threshold. an in-between place, a place of transition, a time of waiting and not knowing. Dawn and dusk are considered liminal places. Crepuscular animals, like foxes and coyotes are most active at this time of day, a time that is considered a magical time in Celtic spirituality and to Indigenous people which is perhaps the origin of their designation as tricksters. As I write this, the northern hemisphere has just passed the vernal equinox, where day and night are of equal length.We are in a liminal space between winter and spring right now, unsure if we will have one more storm or snowfall before spring finally settles in. We're also in a liminal place as we live through this pandemic with the anxiety and discomfort of not knowing. A time of great transition for the entire world, wondering what we've learned from this and what lessons we'll carry forward. Author and Franciscan friar Richard Rohr describes limi

Janice Mason Steeves

Search This Blog