In New York, April truly is the cruelest month, a season of false starts and broken promises. It’s the time of year when sheets of dull rain coax the blood back to life in the veins of the cold dead ground. Every February, some failure of memory or nostalgia fools me into confusing spring for summer, and when mid-April arrives the skies are still grey, the wind still stings, and there’s not a flower (or a bud) in sight.
And then, all of a sudden, it’s May, and spring shows up at your door all at once and in full force, like a guest, late to a party, without an apology and pretending they’ve been there the whole time. But you accept this abusive relationship because the sunbaked days of summer will be here soon and past experiences have taught you to take what little perfect weather you can get: May, New York’s perfect month of spring.
Curator's Corner

Oliver Arthur’s Vanitas is a clever metaphor for my false sense of hope.

Curator's Corner

Balsa Darmanovic’s “Small Brooklyn Apartment” beautifully captures the duality of the late season’s sense of claustrophobia compounded by the betrayal of a single warm day followed by a week of freezing weather.

Curator's Corner

Katy Bishop’s “Taking A Walk”, to me, is like the blood and life returning to a dead limb, the slow and painful struggle of resurrection that is spring in New York. 

Curator’s Corner: Spring at Last - Art Guide by Artrepreneur

Bevan Choate’s “Salt Meadow” is a somber poetic mirror of the bleak concrete Brooklyn landscape I walk through every morning to get coffee, the sunrise looming on the horizon, my cautious optimism for the eventual arrival of warmer weather. 

What artists and artworks make you think of spring? Show us some sunshine in the comments.

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