Embracing Change

I’ve been working on this new series of paintings and they’re all about the Pacific Coast sea stacks, the joyful colors of spring, and this dichotomy between what feels like ongoing chaotic change vs solid anchors we can hold onto and find rest in. As I’ve been painting, I’ve been thinking a lot about the similarities in the tides, ocean ecosystems, and nature’s cycles in relation to our day-to-day life.

On the coast, some things never seem to change like the sea stacks. These great solid pillars of the seascapes I’ve come to know and love so much serve as an anchor, reference point, and reliant backbone for all the chaos and lushness that grows and flows around them. The sea stacks are intertwined with the vast ocean’s chaotic and constant metamorphosis. Key in on a tide pool for example and it’ll rapidly evolve before your eyes in a short period.

In this ecosystem, much like our lives, what seems like never-changing anchors, are in reality just on their own slower cycles of change. Everything grows and evolves at different rates. Spring is always a beautiful reminder that you can change at your own pace and regenerate whenever you decide to. People say change is the only constant. A combination of my inherent nature and society’s nurture has taught me to default to fear in reaction to this unavoidable constant. I’m trying to hardest these days to unlearn that habit. As I’ve been actively trying to nurture my mind and listen to my reactions this past year, I’m softening that defensive shell and strengthening my gut for decision-making.

I’m believing more and more these days it’s never too late for good growth and it’s always an ok time to do the big scary thing because the wave of serendipity is bound to catch up with you and give you a boost.  Even if you go crashing soon thereafter, you learn and have better reflexes so the next crash cycle will be shorter and hopefully less intense.

I’m a big winter hater, especially since moving to the PNW,  so I can’t believe I’m saying this but I'm so thankful for this past season. It was the first winter in MANY years I took a cue from nature and allowed myself to go mostly dormant. I rested like a champ, reflected a lot, left room for play in my creative practice, and leaned into the cozy magic that happens to your cortisol levels when you truly slow down. Now off the heels of some of my best dilly-dallying, the sunniness of spring is making me so excited and optimistic for a new glorious season of growth and I’m so excited to share more with you along the way.