- Published on
“You’ve Changed” - oil on gallery-wrapped linen, 26 x 34 x 1.25. Ready to hang. Available here and at Artfinder.
You’ve changed.
Yes, of course I have and so have you
but you don’t see it.
You kiss me and wonder why the leaves are dying
and I try to explain to you that
I am turning to winter,
but this answer is never good enough.
You fell in love with spring.
You fell in love with the girl who danced and laughed and sang,
and now you’re wondering where she went.
You’re wondering why there are snowflakes in my eyes
why my fingers are cool to touch.
Tell me, would you ask autumn to stay forever?
Would you ask winter to hold on?
Do you wish for a draught of summer to last for all time?
Then why do you expect that of spring?
- NIKITA GILL
You’ve changed.
Yes, of course I have and so have you
but you don’t see it.
You kiss me and wonder why the leaves are dying
and I try to explain to you that
I am turning to winter,
but this answer is never good enough.
You fell in love with spring.
You fell in love with the girl who danced and laughed and sang,
and now you’re wondering where she went.
You’re wondering why there are snowflakes in my eyes
why my fingers are cool to touch.
Tell me, would you ask autumn to stay forever?
Would you ask winter to hold on?
Do you wish for a draught of summer to last for all time?
Then why do you expect that of spring?
- NIKITA GILL
You’ve Changed
I am in a bit of a conundrum. Puzzling through the path to growth, happiness, flow and finding it increasingly a journey un-embraced by others.
This happens in art just as in life - people love a style or subject matter and are disgruntled when the artist wanders away from it. Change is unsettling, unnerving, sometimes scary. And in life, when people love you for being a certain way, they may get jumpy when you grow into a new version of you.
In the poem, Gill grabs this concept and anchors it to my very bones - there may be snowflakes (or sundogs, or eclipses) in my eyes - I am becoming another season.
In this painting, the motion of the ever-changing landscape spins within the very bones of a tree, which transforms even after the final winter of its productive life. It is never too late; you are never too old for transformation. No matter what others may say.
This happens in art just as in life - people love a style or subject matter and are disgruntled when the artist wanders away from it. Change is unsettling, unnerving, sometimes scary. And in life, when people love you for being a certain way, they may get jumpy when you grow into a new version of you.
In the poem, Gill grabs this concept and anchors it to my very bones - there may be snowflakes (or sundogs, or eclipses) in my eyes - I am becoming another season.
In this painting, the motion of the ever-changing landscape spins within the very bones of a tree, which transforms even after the final winter of its productive life. It is never too late; you are never too old for transformation. No matter what others may say.
About the art: I gave the AI bot a photo from a recent hike and asked it for an abstracted landscape. The bot isn’t a fan of painterly abstraction, but it did give me a handful of compositionally interesting “failures”, which inspired this painting. Beginning with a rough sketch with chunky charcoal and blending it into values with gesso to create a toned canvas, then adding layers of thinned oil paint. Resisting the urge to add color. Allowing the paint to move and create texture. Darkening with glazes and then drawing into the paint with a rubber wedge for movement and line. Softening with a cloth so the eyes can rest here and there. Standing back and smiling.
The April Reader Giveaway is here! Wonder Mike and Lilly are busy choosing which original artwork will be going home with one lucky reader. To enter, subscribe to the blog (see column on the right) and then leave a comment below answering this question: do you find yourself creatively (or personally or professionally) stymied by the expectations of others? If so, how can you best grow anyway?
It’s a BIG question! So this month’s prize is not a tiny painting. One commenter will win BIG!
(note: if you are already subscribed, just leave a comment to enter! yay!)
It’s a BIG question! So this month’s prize is not a tiny painting. One commenter will win BIG!
(note: if you are already subscribed, just leave a comment to enter! yay!)
Absolutely love "You've Changed". Stunning!
All my life Iwas a very creative person and really enjoyed my art, mostly photography and charcoal drawings. Years ago, when proudly sharing my new art with close family friends, my husband, now deceased, sneered, scoffed and laughed that I "fancied myself an artist." It was absolutely devastating, cruel and very embarrassing. Two weeks later he pawned my cameras and equipment without my knowledge. I stopped my artistic pursuits for many years because it completely destroyed my confidence and I became hypercritical of anything that I tried to do. Now many years later I'm taking art lessons again and I'm trying to learn to let myself go with my creativity but I still have major apprehension and anxiety when beginning a piece and a huge fear of failure. I'm slowly realizing that I don't really suck at art and my adult son has been so supportive and wants to hang all of my art on his walls (teehee, not ready for that yet but working on it). I do not show my art to anyone but him anymore, for now. Sigh....
Thank you for asking this question! I've learned that I'm not alone with these feelings anymore and that really helps a lot but it's still hard!
Please keep sharing you gorgeous works, I love all of them!
And I really enjoy the beautiful pics and videos from all of your hikes, they always make my day!
Sending Goddess Blessings to you and Malcolm.
Say Hi to Natasha and Rocky for me! Love those two.
Kelly
You
are
not
alone.
Thank you for sharing your story. Thank you for making art. Thank you for being sparkly wonderful in the world (And thanks for entering the April Reader Giveaway!!!) xoxoxox
It's because of artists like you I'm finding the courage to explore my creativity again. Y'all may not realize it but us hesitant amateurs truly find inspiration from your words and art.
Thank you!
K
Of course you have!
👏🏼👏🏼👏🏼👏🏼👏🏼
2. have to share my new mantra: SHIFT HAPPENS
Love this... The many seasons of our lives and transitions. It is wonderful as we age that we have learn to embrace and not fear what others think even if it is a bit sad.
Hugs