We were lucky to catch up with Caitlin Garvey recently and have shared our conversation below.
Caitlin, thank you so much for joining us. You are such a positive person and it’s something we really admire and so we wanted to start by asking you where you think your optimism comes from?
My optimism tends to be grounded in nature. Life is so beautiful…heartbreaking at times, but beautiful. There is a wisdom and deepness in nature that centers me and helps me to have faith. As Mary Olver writes in her poem, Evidence, “all beautiful things, inherently, have this function – to excite the viewers toward sublime thought. Glory to the world, that good teacher….Keep some room in your heart for the unimaginable.”
And, so, I learn from the world around me.
Even on the darkest days, when my mother did not know me anymore because of Alzheimer’s disease or when the news is awful and I don’t necessarily have faith that humanity will get its act together…there is beauty. The sun still rises; the flowers still bloom. There are birds chirping away, greeting the dawn with song, seemingly unaware of grief, though I have watched enough birds to know that they definitely understand threats and will go to great lengths to protect their young. They have had their own dark days.
Let’s be honest – optimism isn’t always the natural or default reaction to circumstances. In fact, I find it takes some discipline. This year, in the dark days of winter (which I don’t necessarily appreciate as much as I should) I started a “Journal of Amazement”. I made a real effort to keep my eyes open and my spirit sensitive to the wonderful and amazing things going on all around me. If I strive to truly see what is surrounding me, then I notice the bigger picture, the divine picture, and I have faith that all will be well. I was recently reading Native by Kaitlin B. Curtice and she puts this beautifully… “When you live on the outside, you know the liminal spaces, the in-between spaces, the thin places where you feel the physical and spiritual intertwine.”
Let’s take a small detour – maybe you can share a bit about yourself before we dive back into some of the other questions we had for you?
My work uses nature as a metaphor to speak to what it means to be human and humanity’s role in and to the world around it. My art ranges from sweeping vistas to delicate blossoms and seeks to acknowledge the unsettled awkwardness of what it means to be human, desiring to be grounded in ourselves while striving for something beyond. Nature is a vehicle to explore these concepts, as the natural world illustrates that what first seems simple is often not simple at all. The incongruity of deep, universal truths hiding behind the simple or obvious inspires me.
I often work with infrared photography since infrared captures light invisible to the human eye and finished images often reveal features that were not initially visible. What first appears in my camera as a hazy, red image is transformed into a detailed study subtly shaded with colors that reveal themselves as the creative process progresses in the studio. Infrared serves as a metaphor for how the concept of self is connected to nature, and from that literal grounding, further discoveries of identity and community can flourish.
These days, I wryly refer to myself as a subversive eco-spiritual artist. I create work that addresses relationships (to ourselves, our community and also the divine) but I do so in a way that might, at first, just seem like a pretty picture. While my work might address issues of grief or climate change or the aging process, I also strive for my work to be deliberately subtle and relatable because people’s initial response of responding positively to nature provides a doorway to greater awareness and understanding. People want to connect with themselves, each other, with nature and with God. If the start of that connection is just appreciating the beauty of nature in one of my images, that’s a good start.
There is so much advice out there about all the different skills and qualities folks need to develop in order to succeed in today’s highly competitive environment and often it can feel overwhelming. So, if we had to break it down to just the three that matter most, which three skills or qualities would you focus on?
Mary Oliver provided some wise guidance when she wrote to “Pay Attention. Be astonished. Tell about it.” The three directives have been quite impactful on my artistic journey. I was blessed to start my college education as a journalism major which helped me to pay attention, ask questions, and think critically. Over the years, I have honed those skills as a lawyer, teacher, and, perhaps most importantly, as a parent.
The directive to “Be astonished” took me longer to develop as a skill, but as I get older and have more life experience, I am seeing how amazing life truly is. It took slowing down during the pandemic to wake me up to this truth. During that time, when I remained at home in rural Virginia, I shifted my attention to the flowers and stunning landscape that surrounded me. I turned 50 during this time and my teenage boys no longer needed me as much as when they were younger. My father died and my mother developed Alzheimer’s. It was a time of change and growth…grief and reckoning and a developing awareness of astonishment at what surrounds us all.
As far as “telling about my art”, I have long struggled with sharing my story or artistic vision. One of the gifts of getting older is that I am discovering my voice and I am also determined to claim my space and my story. Most of my creative skills are self-taught and I used to be rather embarrassed about that fact. I am not the person who can talk about camera settings or gear. I don’t create like that and for a long time, I thought it meant I didn’t have as much credibility as others. I have learned that my voice is valuable and needs to be included, and, while I can’t tell you much about my camera settings, I can tell you about the moment of magic when I realized that something beautiful was occurring. As I get older, I am learning to be gracious towards myself, and more accepting of my unique ways of seeing and creating. I am learning to take up my own space and share my vision and voice with others. Many of us have been quiet for much too long.
What was the most impactful thing your parents did for you?
My parents were both artists and taught me to honor the act of being creative. I recently came across a copy of my mom’s income tax return from the mid-1960s. She had listed her occupation as “Artist.” That stopped me in my tracks because I knew that at the time, she wouldn’t have been selling any of her art so there was very little or no income. There were no fancy galleries or art openings; there was no outward validation of her statement. It was just herself with her paints….just artistic passion and creativity. Seeing her bold declaration of her identity as an artist made me instinctively realize that I wouldn’t have been so brave about my art. I envied her for her commitment and certainty about her art, and it taught me a valuable lesson to claim my space and to honor my identity as an artist.
Even when they had other jobs and family responsibilities, my parents never gave up their creative pursuits and, indeed, framed their lives around being able to create. I can recall my dad carving out time to write every single day. They never received much income or recognition from their work, but they created because it was central to who they were. They couldn’t and wouldn’t forgo that aspect of themselves. I appreciate their example, as it exemplifies the importance of creativity as its own reward and something to be taken seriously. In our ever-changing world, with so many distractions and demands, my parents’ quiet example of simply living their lives as creative people with something valuable to express is one of the most impactful lessons they taught me.
Contact Info:
- Website: www.caitlingarvey.net
- Instagram: caitlingarvey_photography
Image Credits
Caitlin Garvey
