My work generally manifests somewhere between dream, memory and mundane reality. Painting remembered coasts from landlocked Berlin, I often aim to seduce both viewer and myself by warmer, more colourful scenes. The pieces I’ve submitted were painted in winter, longing for summer, and preparing for re-emergence in Spring.“Abstand on the Feld (Endlich lass es frühlingen)” by Shivani Luithle
This piece is the closest words can come to describing the feeling of when you first realize it is spring. It’s the moment when you walk out on your front porch and feel the freedom, peace, and refreshment of the changing seasons.Ashley Tripp
I stop. When did it become spring? I take in a deep breath. Rebirth. Renewal. For the first time in a long while, the air is fresh and clean. I can faintly smell the grass blowing in a gentle wind, not the harsh gusts of winter, but the soft breezes that play with the strands of my hair. I know later I will have to detangle them, but for now I let them roam free. In the background, I can hear the rustling of the leaves. Freshly grown, emerged thanks to the return of the warm air, the spring rain, and the sun. I can hear children down the street playing, taking advantage of one of the first warm days of the year. They yell back and forth to one another. Their words are indecipherable as they run around and laugh. A smile crosses my face as I remember what it was like to be a kid in spring. For a moment, all is right in the world. The air is warm, the breeze is refreshing, and the entire earth seems to hum with hopefulness. It doesn’t matter what’s going on in my life. For this one moment, the entire world seems to align for the sole purpose of bringing me immeasurable peace and pleasure. In that moment, I swear all my problems have solutions. I feel like a new person, unburdened by life. I want to close my eyes, to breathe deeply and fully immerse myself in this moment. To forge it into my memory. To store it up in my heart. I try to grasp for something solid to anchor myself in the moment, something that I can hold onto when life is rough. I want to remember the coolness of the breeze, in the heat of the summer and the warmth of the sun in the cold of the winter. But my eyes stay open, trying to make this moment last as long as possible. My brain turns like a puzzle, trying to figure out what exactly brings this peace. But the organic combination of sights, sounds, and smells of spring are indescribable. Perhaps that’s what makes this moment so special. What makes it feel like a rebirth, a baptism of renewal. This moment can’t be held onto. I can’t take it away for later. The only thing I can do is to fully live now. To be present and take it in. Perhaps that is the true benefit of the rebirth. It can’t happen forever. It can’t be held in one place. I exhale and finally close my eyes. I make peace with that. In a way, it makes it more special. I continue on with life, but a piece of me has changed. I may forget the moment, but I don’t forget the feeling. And like an old friend, I wait for it every year to come back.
About the Artists
Ashley Tripp is an artist & writer from the rolling hills of Kentucky. She uses her passion for both outlets to share how she sees the world with others, hoping to inspire them.Short Bio of Ashley
Shivani Luithle (b. 1992) grew up in Australia, before landing in Berlin as a teenager. Her mother (Australian, born Fijian to family who once left India by boat to become sugar cane farmers in the Pacific) and father (born in German-occupied Poland to Bessarabian Germans who settled shortly by the Black Sea) spoke little of their family history and experience of changing home. After interdisciplinary studies of art in London and Denmark, Shivani now paints from her home studio in Berlin, exploring themes of belonging, identity between cultures, and the climate crisis.– Short Bio of Shivani
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Explore works of art and literature from around the world inspired by the beginning of Spring, the changing of the Seasons, and the anticipation we feel after the standstill of winter.