Nature has always been a serene place for me to escape a busy life and tune into the present and my surroundings. During my time at JMU, I’ve ventured into the arboretum for walks with friends, late night adventures, biology classes, art gathering and for solo walks where I’m lost in thought. I’ve watched all types of individuals enter into it for various reasons and most seem to walk away with a lighter walk and a happier disposition. I used an acrylic underpainting of a limited palette of blues and pinks that seemed to be inviting and begin to tell the story

Against the backdrop of the Arboretum’s embraces, where foliage whispers secrets that only the heartbroken seem to discern, my canvas became an asylum for emotions. Every stroke—imbued with the essence of Walnut Alkyd—was a reflection of the dance of light through the leaves, a medley of greens ranging from the tender shoots of spring to the storied depths of summer’s zenith. Each hue, a whispered echo of verdant life around me.

There I was, a transient spirit in Harrisonburg, with the ephemeral rhythms of a fleeting summer twining through my being. The ebb of love lost pulsed through the forest’s veins, syncing with the rhythm of my brushwork. The shrubbery, a silent witness to my transmutation, held within it the pulse of countless, unseen lives—the scurry of fauna and the flutter of wings—an unending symphony for those with ears fine-tuned to nature’s frequency.

The Arboretum, in broad daylight, was at once a comforting companion and an echo of innate trepidations—a juxtaposition that women so often learn to navigate. There, the vastness of it all could simultaneously cradle and swallow whole. And yet, rather than shrink from this duality, I leaned into it, channeling the inherent vulnerability into my art.

- Nia Blue