Picking Joy: Why Sunflowers Remind Me of Resilience
In a field of sunflowers outside Cleveland, I was reminded that joy is something we sometimes have to choose. Sunflowers lean toward the light, even on cloudy days, a quiet lesson in resilience and hope. Picking them felt like picking joy itself, a reminder that no matter the season, we can still turn toward the sun.
This week, I found myself wandering through a field of sunflowers just outside of Cleveland. Their golden heads tilted toward the sun, their stems swaying in the wind it was simple, and yet it felt like medicine.
Lately, I’ve been thinking a lot about how joy can be a choice, especially in seasons when life feels heavy. Picking sunflowers reminded me of that. Each bloom felt like a small reminder that no matter what storms pass through, we can rise again, turn toward the light, and keep growing.
Sunflowers have always symbolized resilience to me. They don’t shy away from the sun, they seek it. Even on cloudy days, they lean toward where the light will return. There’s something deeply spiritual in that: the act of orienting yourself toward hope even when it’s not yet visible.
As an artist, I see myself in these flowers. Resilient, rooted, reaching for light. My practice has always been about transformation, turning memory, vulnerability, and even pain into something beautiful. Walking through that field, I felt connected not just to nature, but to that part of myself that insists on blooming, no matter what.
So here’s my little reminder, from me to you: joy doesn’t always arrive on its own. Sometimes, you have to go out and pick it. 🌻✨
Artist Asia Armour finds resilience and joy in a Cleveland sunflower field, embracing nature’s beauty, healing, and soft life inspiration
Alchemy of the Artist: When Struggle Sparks Creation
Some of the most luminous art has been born in shadows. In struggle, artists discover an alchemy, transforming grief, heartbreak, and uncertainty into gold. This is where creativity thrives, not despite hardship, but because of it.
Some of the most luminous works of art have been born in shadows. History shows us that when the world feels heavy, artists turn that weight into wings. Out of grief, beauty emerges. Out of heartbreak, transformation is possible. Could this be… a kind of alchemy?
For me, I’ve found that in the moments when life feels the most uncertain, inspiration has a way of slipping in. When you’re stripped down to the core, the excess peeled away, what’s left is raw truth. And raw truth is where art thrives.
Think about it: the Renaissance rose after plague and darkness. The Harlem Renaissance blossomed from oppression and migration. Even on a personal level, some of my strongest pieces came from sitting with pain, questions, and change. In those moments, art wasn’t just expression, it was survival, a way to transmute struggle into beauty.
Alchemy, in the ancient sense, was about turning lead into gold. For the artist, maybe it’s about turning grief into color, heartbreak into texture, struggle into story. It’s not easy, and it’s not always pretty, but it’s powerful.
So the next time life cracks you open, maybe that’s not the end of the story. Maybe it’s the beginning of your masterpiece.
If this resonated with you, share this post with a friend who needs a reminder that even in struggle, transformation blooms.
