Melanie Whaley Art

🙏❤️ you are so kind.

🙏🏼❤️ thank you @prepekka98.bsky.social

Not all darkness is the same.

In a painting, shadow holds light.
Distortion flattens everything.

I’m learning to contain what harms
without letting it define the whole canvas.

First they came for…
“Then they came for me—and there was no one left to speak for me.”

Bird-Woman

I enjoy you! I may not find my niche for marketing but that is not really why I am here. I will share my work but social media is not my market. That I realize now.

No to Openspace. Focused on FB/IG w/ASF, eventually realized social-media marketing didn’t suit my work or my voice. I missed this space, regret leaving, but I’m really glad 2 be back & back in touch. I was also moving a lot (FL… bad idea) and am now in Santa Fe, hoping for a new studio by spring.

Paul T Shattuck, MSW, PhD (@paultshattuck) He’s SO perfect for the moment. Wise, insightful, humane, funny. I have a huge nerd crush on Josh Johnson! He makes so many good points about Minneapolis, ICE and resistance. Share and restack 🙏🏻☮...

Like a painter deciding where light falls, Johnson guides the listener’s focus — what to notice, what to hold, what to question. His pauses and pacing are compositional choices. Enjoy.

substack.com/@paultshattu...

Busy day, sorry for my delay in communicating. I don't want to feel rushed with my reply. Tomorrow!! Have a good night. Oh, and I will definitely go over to the # you suggested. With pleasure. 🙏

Where a Painting Learns to Stand on Its Own I am a painter of still life, working through the tension between light and shadow, presence and absence, guided by the steady clarity of true north light.

open.substack.com/pub/melaniew...

It’s genuinely a joy to be back and reconnecting with old friends here. Thank you for the warm welcome and for spending time with me—I’m so glad our paths crossed again. 👋🏼🙏❤️

Your connection means a lot to me🙏🏼

How do they have authority for that? Stupid question…

Art is the choice to be — to witness, to feel, to speak — when the world keeps whispering that it might be easier not to.

Bird-Woman, oil on linen

I’ve noticed how spare attention gets consumed by tracking 🤡’s predictable moves,
exhausting my spirit, stealing precious time.

Awareness matters.
So does building what comes next.

I’m turning my focus toward strategy and preparation
the long, steady work of taking back my life & our democracy.

He
Is
Friggin
Insane

Thank you my friend.

I appreciate anything that moves people from despair into engagement.

Not everyone needs to be in the river.

Some of us row.
Some of us tend the light so people remember why they’re crossing.

It is all playing out right in front of us. Who among us hasn't suspected for years that Gabbard was working with Putin? We are like deer in the headlights.

🙏

🙏

I am so delighted you found me. It's is good to be back in touch with you.

Plans change.
Care doesn’t disappear — it finds another shape.

I see that when I look at Flowers in Teapot. A vessel no longer pouring, but holding.

Staying with what’s real can be enough.

The vessel changes.
What it holds still matters.
Care finds another shape.

Flowers in Teapot, Oil on Linen

Where cruelty is rewarded & protected—humanity, empathy, conscience, and solidarity—rots away, leaving power without compassion.

‘In a way, to be indifferent to that suffering is what makes the human being inhuman. Indifference, after all, is more dangerous than anger and hatred.’ – Elie Wiesel.”

History doesn’t turn on the presence of evil.

It turns on whether those with conscience speak, resist, and refuse early enough.

You’re not wrong to feel moral revulsion.

You’re wrong only if you believe revulsion alone is enough to stop it.

Shop Art | melaniewhaley1111@gmail.com Shop art is a collection of art that is currently available for purchase at melaniewhaley1111@gmail.com.

Thank you for being here. I share paintings and reflections like this in occasional email letters, written slowly.
melaniewhaley.com
At the edge of light,
~ Melanie

The world, briefly, stops asking for anything more. In moments like this, attention isn’t effort. It’s permission.

From this place of refuge, life becomes livable again.
And from livability, meaning can slowly return.

I’m reminded of that when I look at Blue Vase with Fruit. A simple arrangement — nothing remarkable at first glance. But held long enough, it becomes a place to rest. Light settles into the curve of the vase. Color deepens. Edges soften.

There’s room again to register what is actually present, without having to judge or react to it. In that space, nothing needs to be solved for life to feel bearable.

Attention, as I experience it, isn’t about narrowing focus or achieving clarity. It’s broader than that — a softening rather than a tightening. When attention deepens, the nervous system stops bracing. The body no longer scans for what’s next or what’s wrong.