September 2025
The Art of Seasonal Transitions
September has always felt like a doorway. On one side is the brightness of summer—the warmth, the looseness, the days that never seem to end. On the other side is autumn, with its cooler breezes, crisp light, and the sense that life is asking us to turn inward. I find myself pausing at this threshold every year, noticing how the world is changing, and feeling how those changes shift something inside of me as an artist.
In my work, September is rarely loud. It doesn’t have the bold blooms of June, or the lush green of July, or even the fiery spectacle of late October. Instead, it’s softer, quieter, and a little more fleeting. The flowers in my neighborhood look tired after a long summer, the leaves are only just beginning to turn, and the air smells faintly of pine needles and change. It’s the perfect month for slowing down and noticing the subtle textures that often go overlooked.
Inspiration in the In-Between
One thing I love about this season is how transitional it feels. I’m drawn to in-between spaces in art: where a color shifts from one shade to another, where brushstrokes blend but still hold their own character, where embroidery thread knots into something organic and imperfect. September feels like that—like an in-between month, holding pieces of summer and hints of fall all at once.
This year, I’ve been paying attention to how September shows up in my color palette. The golden yellows of late sunflowers, the dusky mauves of hydrangeas as they fade, the deep navy of earlier evenings—all of these shades find their way into my minis. I love mixing them with more neutral tones, so the colors feel grounded and a little nostalgic. There’s something about working with these palettes that feels like bottling up the season, like saving a small memory of the present to hold onto later.
Rituals of Slowing Down
The change in seasons also brings a change in pace. I notice myself slowing down in September, especially in my studio. The light shifts in the afternoon, pouring in at a lower angle, and I catch myself working more deliberately—taking time to layer paint, to stitch patiently, to let a piece evolve without rushing it.
My process this month often includes more rituals too: making tea before I sit down at my desk, lighting a candle, and putting on music that feels cozy and reflective. These little acts create a sense of rhythm, and they remind me that art doesn’t always have to be urgent—it can be gentle, steady, and aligned with the slower pace of the season.
I think part of what makes September so inspiring is that it feels like permission to rest a little. After the wild energy of summer, there’s a collective exhale, and it carries into my creative work.
Art as a Way to Mark the Season
One of the joys of creating the monthly minis has been treating each collection like a marker of time. Just as you might press a flower between pages of a book to preserve a memory, each month’s mini feels like a small snapshot of what inspired me, how I was feeling, and what the world looked like at that moment.
For September, that snapshot is filled with shifting colors, layered textures, and the gentle reminder to slow down and notice the quiet details. My hope is that these pieces become a little pause in your day too—a way to carry the spirit of the season into your own home.
An Invitation
As we step fully into this month, I’d encourage you to notice the small changes happening around you. The earlier sunsets, the way the air feels different in the morning, the late-blooming flowers or the first leaves starting to turn. These tiny details are where so much of the beauty of September lives.
And maybe, just maybe, you’ll feel inspired to mark the transition in your own way—whether that’s through journaling, pressing a flower, snapping a photo, or simply pausing to breathe it all in.
For me, art is how I hold onto these fleeting moments. And sharing them with you, through paint and thread and handwritten notes, feels like a way of inviting you into this doorway with me. Together, we can step into the season with open eyes, ready to notice the beauty in the in-between.