- nessart16
- May 7
- 4 min read
Updated: May 30
Welcome to The Metamorphosis in May, the fifth blog post in my 2025 Calendar Blog Series. Over the rest of this year, I’ll be taking you behind the scenes of each month’s illustration, sharing stories, memories, and reflections that continue to shape my creative journey.
For 2025, I created a collection that bridges my childhood art with my current skill level - I’ve revisited some of my old oil pastel drawings and watercolour paintings, recreated them digitally, and added reflective thoughts, messages, and affirmations that connect what they meant to me then with what they mean to me now. Each month is crafted with care, representing both the season and a personal story.
And a quick plug: my 2025 calendar collection is available at a lovely discounted price till I run out! From tabletop and wall calendars to mini calendars, calendar cards, wallpapers, and bookmarks, there’s something for everyone in my shop.
We’ve all been there: that moment when we find ourselves stuck in the trap of “I need to be there.” I’ve fallen into this mindset more times than I’d like to admit, and it’s something I’m sure many of us can relate to.
As a child, I distinctly remember one of my English textbooks featuring a poem about metamorphosis. Although I can't recall if the word itself was part of the poem, I vividly remember adopting the term "morphometasis" into my mental vocabulary. It became something my inner voice was deeply familiar with, a word that made perfect sense in my world. To me, metamorphosis was the caterpillar transforming into a butterfly, so naturally, morphometasis must mean the butterfly reversing the process, turning back into a caterpillar.
That image stuck with me, clear as day. Whenever I felt down, or like I was falling behind, or simply "off," I would picture myself as a butterfly and say to myself, "I’m going through morphometasis." It became my way of expressing the opposite of transformation - the feeling of moving backward, or of being stuck in place while everyone else seemed to be moving forward.
I was a little girl in a new city, learning to English, struggling to make lasting friendships, surrounded by little peers who seemed so confident in themselves, even at that age. I can still hear the quiet thoughts that passed through my mind back then - “They’re metamorphing, but I’m morphometa-ting."
And now, as an adult, I still catch myself in those thoughts. It’s so easy to look around and see others seemingly transforming, stepping into their next phase with confidence while I feel stuck in the cocoon. It’s tempting to ask, “Why am I not moving ahead? Why aren’t I changing? Where are my wings?”
But here’s the truth: metamorphosis -true, meaningful change - takes time. It’s a process, not an overnight event. Just like a caterpillar entering its cocoon, the journey of transformation is a messy one. The caterpillar literally breaks down into an enzyme soup (the flash reference, anyone?) before it can emerge as a butterfly. It needs the right conditions to undergo this transformation, and so do we.
It’s easy to forget this, especially when we feel like we’re falling behind or not moving fast enough. But the reality is, our time to take flight will come, and it will come at the right time. And until then, instead of rushing the process or wishing it would hurry up, we can focus on preparing ourselves. Like the caterpillar chomping on leaves, we can work on building our lives and our strength, so we’re ready when the time comes for us to spread our wings.
For the original illustration of May, I drew inspiration from a past piece I made during one of my classes. It was an oil pastel painting where I had just learned the technique of blending. At that time, I was obsessed with gradients and used them everywhere. Bright, vibrant colors filled my work, and I was thrilled to finally step into the world of semi-professional oil pastels - such a huge milestone for me.
For this calendar illustration, I wanted to capture that same essence and energy but put my own spin on it. I recreated the bright colors and the beautiful blue background, but this time, I had a bit more practice with drawing butterflies :)
The story behind May’s illustration is incredibly personal to me. It reflects a message I have to remind myself of every day: change takes time, and growth is a journey, writing this blog is another way im doing that. Though I’m not always great at remembering this, I’m getting better. And my hope is that this message resonates with you too.
For me, art is so much more than just creating beautiful visuals. It’s about sharing pieces of my heart and my journey, hoping that it will bring someone else a little comfort or inspiration. A lot of my work is a way for me to say, “I'm okay, and you’re okay.” It’s a little reminder that we’re all in this together, and it’s okay to move at our own pace.
So, if you’re feeling a little stuck today, know this: Your metamorphosis is happening. It may take time, but when you’re ready, you’ll spread your wings and take flight. In the meantime, keep building. Keep growing. Your time will come, and when it does, you’ll be more than ready.
Stay tuned for June's story, and if you haven’t yet, check out my
2025 calendar collection to bring these illustrations into your home!
- nessart16
- Mar 27
- 3 min read
Updated: May 7
If there was ever one drawing that holds immense personal significance, it is the one I created for the month of April in the 2025 calendar.
Welcome to The Village in April, the fourth blog post in my 2025 Calendar Blog Series. Over the rest of this year, I’ll be taking you behind the scenes of each month’s illustration, sharing stories, memories, and reflections that continue to shape my creative journey.
For 2025, I created a collection that bridges my childhood art with my current skill level - I’ve revisited some of my old oil pastel drawings and watercolour paintings, recreated them digitally, and added reflective thoughts, messages, and affirmations that connect what they meant to me then with what they mean to me now. Each month is crafted with care, representing both the season and a personal story.
And a quick plug: my 2025 calendar collection is available at a lovely discounted price till I run out! From tabletop and wall calendars to mini calendars, calendar cards, wallpapers, and bookmarks, there’s something for everyone in my shop.
It all began in my art class, little Ness armed with oil pastels and a heart full of wonder. My very first edition was a simple layout filled with warm, inviting colours. That original illustration featured rolling hills, cartoony houses, and lush bushes, evoking the comforting charm of a warm countryside.
During a school greeting card-making competition, I decided to reimagine that childhood drawing as a "welcome home" card, which I dedicated to one of my teachers at the time. I infused the piece with even more personality by adding playful words and extra rolling hills. The drawing radiated a soft, warm feeling - as if it were so delightful, I could almost taste it. I know, I have really weird cravings. I loved it so much that I continued to recreate this design for future greeting cards, each iteration capturing a deeper part of my evolving passion and style.
But the journey didn’t stop there. this cherished illustration made an exciting return during last year's "Peachtober." For the day 22 prompt, "Village," I redrew my childhood creation one more in my current style. The process filled me with immense joy and sparked inspiration for a much larger project - the creation of my calendar, "Growing in 2025," which aims to recreate elements of my childhood through art.
This was not only the first drawing I made for the calendar, but also the first one I finalized with text on the reverse side. Over time, this illustration has become my signature piece, gracing my thank-you cards, wallpapers, bookmarks, and even my website. Reflecting on its journey from a simple art class exercise to an integral part of my identity feels like a full-circle moment.
While working on the calendar illustration, I realized that the original artwork needed a new format to fit the project. I redrew it once more, separating the elements into layers so I could reposition and refine each detail while preserving its original charm. It was like breathing new life into an old friend - reimagining it now to fit a fresh, exciting vision without losing its essence. I also created another version for the reverse side of the month.
The meaning behind this drawing evolved naturally as I contemplated its title, "The Village." The phrase "it takes a village" instantly reminded me of the support we receive from those around us. Though the original saying goes, "it takes a village to raise a child," the sentiment remains the same. The illustration represents how our lives are woven together by many caring hands and open hearts. It’s a gentle reminder that we’re never truly alone - that it’s okay to lean on others, to allow their kindness to guide us, and to share the weight of our burdens. When the road feels long and the load heavy, reaching out to our village, with its open arms and steady hands, is a sign of strength, not weakness.
This illustration and its accompanying message mark the beginning of my calendar project and encapsulate a milestone in my artistic journey. I am deeply grateful to my younger self for creating this piece in art class - an act that has blossomed into my most cherished work. I know I will revisit this drawing time and again, as it continually inspires and comforts me. It stands as a testament to the beauty of growth, the power of community, and the timeless joy of art.
Stay tuned for April's story, and if you haven’t yet, check out my
2025 calendar collection to bring these illustrations into your home!
- nessart16
- Mar 22
- 3 min read
For as long as I can remember, I have felt an weird and inherent need for symmetry & balance. Whether it’s the subtle requirement for a tap on my left shoulder when someone taps my right, or the instinct to dip both hands into a pool of water simultaneously, I have come to realize that my body craves this balance. If I stretch my right ankle, my left follows suit, as if each half of me insists on mirroring the other.
This drive for equilibrium is not just physical for me - it mirrors my perception of the world, where symmetry often symbolizes order and calm amidst the chaos - something I find myself in the middle of quite often. Yet, I have come to slowly understand that this yearning for balance is as much a part of me as my quirks. It makes me wonder how I view the world and whether this preference for symmetry shapes my interpretation of beauty in the external world.
But perhaps this quest for symmetry, a beautifully unpolished and unexpected act in itself - is a reminder that true “perfection” often hides in the imperfections, quirks and randomness of life.
Welcome to The Oddities in March, the third blog post in my 2025 Calendar Blog Series. Over the rest of this year, I’ll be taking you behind the scenes of each month’s illustration, sharing stories, memories, and reflections that continue to shape my creative journey.
For 2025, I created a collection that bridges my childhood art with my current skill level - I’ve revisited some of my old oil pastel drawings and watercolour paintings, recreated them digitally, and added reflective thoughts, messages, and affirmations that connect what they meant to me then with what they mean to me now. Each month is crafted with care, representing both the season and a personal story.
And a quick plug: my 2025 calendar collection is available at a lovely discounted price till I run out! From tabletop and wall calendars to mini calendars, calendar cards, wallpapers, and bookmarks, there’s something for everyone in my shop.
Reflecting on my childhood, I remember there being a time when I was utterly fascinated by root vegetables - carrots, radishes, turnips - each one with its own unique shape and character. In little ness' eyes, everything that grew underground was part of one big, mysterious family because they all lived in the same hidden world beneath the earth. I was captivated by their incredible variety of forms and colours. Even the dirt, peeling skins, and tiny scars didn't take away from their charm; instead, they made these vegetables feel even more magical and full of wonder. Honest confession, I enjoyed my time looking at and admiring them than actually eating them.
This early curiosity about the imperfect and the unexpected has reemerged in my art and even my daily life today. My recent discovery of the need for internal symmetry and the quest to find balance in an often chaotic external world have reminded me of this wonder I felt as a child.
The imperfect beauty of a dirt-covered radish, with its tiny tear on the skin, now serves as a metaphor for the beauty in all our idiosyncrasies.
The March illustration is one that employs delicate washes of light watercolour and subtle outlines. I recall creating this piece during a drawing class, where the assignment was to choose from a reference book filled with images of vegetables, fruits, animals, and toys. While the reference image of a radish lacked any visible “flaws”, I was compelled to include a tiny tear on its skin. To me, that imperfection was a celebration of the radish’s true character - much like the way life’s little quirks add depth to our experiences.
Ultimately, “The Oddities in March” is a reminder to embrace the odd, the imperfect, and the unexpected in our lives. In a world that often values symmetry and perfection, I invite you to celebrate the quirks that set you apart. Whether it’s the unique characteristics of your body or the distinct traits of those around you, there is magic in the unpolished and the imperfect.
Be proud of your “oddities.” Let them remind you that beauty often lies not in flawless symmetry, but in the very things that make us unique, raw, and undeniably human.
Stay tuned for April's story, and if you haven’t yet, check out my
2025 calendar collection to bring these illustrations into your home!
