When September Comes
Many (most) people tend to wax poetic about the merits of summer, but I, for one, do not fully identify as a summer girl. In Georgia, it is oppressively hot, unnervingly unending, and I know that this is potentially the hottest of takes — but sometimes at 9 pm, with the sun still somewhat in the sky, the days simply feel too long. This could be leftover childhood bedtime anxiety, saying my prayers with bright, almost daylight light sneaking in through the corners of my blinds. But I digress…
So when September arrives, it brings a promise of relief. If not now (and it’s never as early as I would like), then soon. Soon there will be more routine, and cooler air. September inspires a hankering for school supplies, bouquets of freshly sharpened pencils, and the promise of something new. September is sepia-toned. It is sun-soaked and tanned and painted in gold and warmth. It is festive and anticipatory, a shoulder-season in and of itself, suspended between what was and what is coming.
Sun-dappled, warm, and a little bit hazy, this latest collection of nine paintings encapsulates my particular feeling of September. A time of transition, when summer is all but gone and autumn is beginning to make itself known. Painted with an earthy palette, my hope is that these paintings feel warm and nostalgic, a little bit waterlogged, sun-tired, and a little bit wistful. An attempt to capture that fleeting feeling of a season turning, when the light softens, the hankering for fresh starts and clean slates builds, and the familiar, buzzy feeling of a freshly minted season becomes too tempting to resist.
We survived the more-more-more of summer, and our reward is just a little bit less. A little bit less heat, less urgency, less daylight… (January mid-winter me, desperate for light, has never met summer me.) September offers the pleasure of returning to yourself, putting things back in their place, sharpening pencils, making lists, and beginning again. Unlike the new year, September does not demand reinvention or grand declaration. It simply gives permission to turn the page, to make plans, and to start fresh.
What a gift that is.
My latest collection of nine new paintings launches on Well + Wonder tomorrow, September 24th, at 10 am.
