The Spectrum of Joy

by Cyndie Hammond

Retirement can be an enlightening transition, but it is often shadowed by fear of the unknown and a tendency to overthink. Combine that tenuous shift from work to leisure with the gray, isolated days of Covid 2020, and the result was a perfect storm. I meandered through that time finding solace in ways that fit my needs. Human connections were extinguished and replaced with online solitude. Curiously, my digital venture wasn’t to find human connection; it was a search for color. Nothing in our world seemed real, and instinctively, I sought comfort and strength through vibrant, expressive hues.

“I embraced visualization and ideation,
letting my intuition loose.”

Pinterest searches led to my discovery of artist Sally Trace, who ignores realism and uses color to depict emotion. I reveled in the shapes and colors of stained glass creations inspired by the work of architect Frank Lloyd Wright. The complicated world outside helped me appreciate the intricate photographic process of Jamie Heiden, whose messages are clear and poignant. In addition to online binges, television provided comfort; I discovered the colorful world of Australian painter Anna Blatman while watching *The Block*. I embraced visualization and ideation, letting my intuition loose.

The discovery of works by Jason Anderson and Osnat Tzadok created motivation, and my intuition selects the subject; it either “feels” right or it doesn’t. Abstract ideas regularly wiggle to the surface. I relax into the process of creating lines, shapes, and spaces. Sometimes an image is in my vision; sometimes it is not. Often, the image develops during the process. If it feels right, I draw the line. That is not to say I haven’t changed my mind during the color application.

I start with the center focus of the drawing—interestingly, that is where the most vibrant colors are applied. My fingers select the pencils; I’ve learned not to overthink the selection. Unnatural color pairings are thrilling. Unlike many artists, my work isn't finished section by section. I am scattered and random: center, foreground, corner, then back to center. …as is my art: scattered and random representations of life’s emotions, glimmers of hope, snapshots of moments, and colorful images of new beginnings.

Summer Peek

Summer Peek: I chanced upon a 2D iron wall hanging of a tree, and thought, “What if I use that as a view?” That question and the possibility excited me. There it is. The obvious motivation and inspiration to pick up my pencils. The lines just happened, the forms found their places; the process had breath. It turns out the lines found representation through color: mountain peaks, sunlight, hills, and sky. Curiously, I added a second circle with muted colors and a diagonal line that separates one side from another. It was a compelling feeling—I only knew a line must exist, and the circle needed to be there. The title followed as the tree became the window to a view.

Shards of Spring

Shards of Spring: There was no photo, no sculpture, no visual inspiration other than sunlight. The work began with circles, and in my mind, each was filled with sunlight yellows, tempered oranges, and vibrant pinks. There was no plan. It was a time of my life that I needed sunlight and blue. The work is a heartfelt intention to create joy for me at a time that I needed it. It’s a snapshot of color, warmth, and comfort. Sometimes the title comes to mind and work developed to match; sometimes, the title emanates from the work. Color shards named the piece.

Red Bird

Red Bird: In this case, I was perusing through Pinterest and happened upon comical bird art, photography, drawings, and illustrations. Intuition reviewed, discounted, and singled out images that evoked memories; and then, I paused. The cardinal is a Midwest childhood memory and a symbolism for lost loved ones. The idea became personal, and the work developed with love. In my mind, I created a vague representation; however, the design developed as tears flooded my eyes, as lost memories resurfaced, and as color was applied.

Color has a language of its own. My work shifts away from realistic colors in favor of strong, expressive, and often clashing hues. I don’t focus on intricate details or perfect perspective. I trust my process, though the early "color chaos" can still create stress. Trust the process.

Cyndie Hammond

Cyndie’s journey began in a one-room schoolhouse outside Green Bay, WI. Her childhood was defined by winter drifts, summer mosquitoes, and railroad trips to Idaho in Pullman sleepers. She resides in Fort Collins, CO, with her frame-maker husband, Jim, and a Ragdoll kitten. They remodeled their eighth house and saved packing blankets—just in case. Her work appeared in *Colored Pencil* and galleries in ID and CO. Most recently, Cyndie’s work was selected to represent the 2026 Festival at Sandpoint, ID.

Instagram: cjhammondart