Week Four
Gilded Summer, Week Four
“Merging Scenes, Merging Time”
Oil Paint, Layered Glass and Mirror, Gilded Frame
8” x 10”
This piece captures a moment suspended between two possibilities. It reflects on how time folds in on itself when memory, place, and presence collide.
Painted from the edge of a creek bed, the work explores the quiet tension of choice: being on one side means the other has been left behind. The composition draws attention to the options, both literal and symbolic, where paths diverged and parallel lives are imagined. Shadows and light are used to mirror duality, hinting at the simultaneous beauty and ache of being in one place while longing for another.
Each brushstroke carries the weight of lived memory and imagined memory. Childhood freedom echoes through softened textures and bright colors, while the present self, more deliberate and grounded, remains tethered to more realistic aspects. This piece becomes a story of movement and stillness, presence and longing. A visual merging of scenes, a merging of time.
We found something beautiful
in our favorite place.
And then I found another beautiful place.
Different, but connected,
because l've lived inside both.
I create to merge these scenes,
to merge time.
Yet, there's always a fork in the path.
I have to choose one.
Not out of preference,
but because my one body
can only be on one path.
Here, in this soft pocket near the creek,
light filters through the trees,
softening the blazing sun.
It calms my thoughts like how the water moves beside me.
I've lived long enough
to have a childhood behind me.
Back then,
I would've explored carelessly.
Maybe even splashed loudly across the water to feel both sides.
But now,
I move with intent.
Cautious.
Deliberate.
I step along fallen logs,
dip just the edges of me into the creek.
What if l've already lost something
and didn't notice?
Were we once part of nature,
but now just orbit it.
I feel split.
Even inside the beautiful,
I'm already grieving its end.
The cicadas hum.
The birds chirp hopefully.
The creek mumbles back.
I got so many smiles.
Maybe they know of that quiet ache too.
The ache for the side we didn't choose.