Artist Statement

There seems to be a madness in the world. A fight and struggle to stay the same, to keep things in a perpetual state of happiness. Yet I find again and again that the only constant we have is change itself. And then if we see that, we look at that change and live our whole lives in anticipation of being somewhere better, or regret and longing for the past.

For me, the journey of eastern philosophy and mindfulness has taught me the absolute necessity of trying to live in the present moment. Any time I have tried too hard to dictate the trajectory of my life, I have found myself in a state of discord and unrest. Anxiety is overwhelming, and grief is always in the background. But if I can stop and be fully present in the smallest of moments, I find peace, and even sometimes joy.

My art strives to be a celebration of moments. Of small parts of time and space that have never existed before, and never will again. The people, the vignettes, the way the light hits a certain space move me to my core. I strive to give the viewer just even a small bit of that space. The portraits that I paint are just of normal people. People who in that moment are existing in a way that they never will again. How precious and transient it is.

My father passed away February 1, 2022. He was an artist to the soul. He took me to museums and galleries, and gave me books and canvases and paint. He told me stories of the impressionists and their search to capture the moments in light. We looked at all the Monet paintings of Notre Dame, and how each tiny piece was a moment in itself. We dissected the Degas, and marveled at the humans, portrayed in beauty but all the stories and torment behind the singular moments painted.

But what I remember most about my father was the way he could get lost in a day, get lost in a poem, get lost in a view of the mountains or a vista. His eyes and face shifted, and in that moment, he was as part of the scenery as the daylight, as part of the story as the page. He became a string on his guitar, weaving through the air in sadly soft and powerful sound.

These are the moments I want to capture. The feelings I want to show. To be part of the beautiful interconnectedness of the universe, and completely unique all in one moment.

Colors, textures, brushwork, mediums, they all change. Hopefully, the quiet solitude of the moment remains.

-Vanessa M. Colwell