New Light, Returning Daily

April 2026, a Painting + Poetry Collection by Molly Ovenden

Welcome to New Light, Returning Daily! I am proud to welcome you to a Springtime Ekphrastic challenge and exploration.

Here’s a screenshot of many photos on my phone, part of my April 2026 exhibition, “New Light, Returning Daily.” You’ll see lots of materials used in collage and playfully expressive creating (for example: recycled book pages, off-cuts from my ‘Scrapings’ paintings, gel pen, acrylic paint pen, acrylic paint, cardstock)

“New Light, Returning Daily” is a collection of 30 original paintings I created for an artistic collaboration hosted by The Wombwell Rainbow called “The Ekphrastic Challenge.”

While springtime is a joyous time for me as an poet and painter, I love the vibrant colours of all that blooms. David Hockney is great at capturing nature’s progression through the calendar. In June 2025, I had the thrill to go to Paris with my best friend to see David Hockney’s largest ever exhibition in the Louis Vuitton Foundation space.

“Do Remember They Can’t Cancel Spring” featured 70 years of David Hockney’s work, over 400 pieces—Hockney’s work is constant inspiration for me. However, I mention it particularly as part of an explanation of what my “ekphrastic challenge” has been for my own art exhibition, “New Light, Returning Daily.”

Here’s a photo of me beaming in the warmth of Parisian sunshine, eagerly awaiting entrance to the exhibition. Ahh! It was SO! Cool! Amazing. I’m so grateful I got to go—and share it with my Hockney-loving bestie, too. (Thanks, friend!! And, thanks for all the sneaky photos you took of me writing ekphrastic poems in the gallery.)

First of all, let me save you the research on the word, “ekphrastic.” Simply put, ekphrastic writing is that which responds to art. It often creates a type of a conversation between the writer and the artist, or the subject of the artwork.

Here are some links with more details to whet your poetic appetite:

• Poetry Foundation cites “Ode on a Grecian Urn” by John Keats (one of my favourite poets!! Fun fact: I saw a life mask of Keats’ face at Dove Cottage, William Wordsworth’s house, now a museum in the Lake District in northern England.) Keats’ poem demonstrates PF’s definition well, that “Through the imaginative act of narrating and reflecting on the ‘action’ of a painting or sculpture, the poet may amplify and expand its meaning.”

• The Getty Museum shares that one of the first examples of ekphrasis occurs in Homer’s Iliad. While an easy way to define this type of writing is that it’s writing about art, it’s incomplete, because it’s been in use for so long; “in ancient Greece, the term ekphrasis was applied to the skill of describing a thing with vivid detail,” and often the details used reflect the viewer’s (i.e.: the writer’s) personal impact that the piece of art has on them.

• The Poetry Lab defines ekphrasis by looking at it's Greek etymological roots, explaining that this type of writing involves extraction of sorts since “The term "ekphrasis" is derived from the Greek words "ek," meaning "out," and "phrasis," meaning "speak" or "declare." This article is actually called, “Ekphrasis Poetry: a Multigenre Journey You Can See” and I think that’s an excellent definition of it, too.

It would be easy to get lost in research about the term (I had to stop myself at these three sources above). But, let’s take a pause from the research and RSVP to an opportunity.

Here’s a photo of me sitting on a bench in David Hockney’s exhibition in June 2025, after doing some “good looking” I wrote in response to one of the pieces I saw. I wrote…and ekphrastic poem! I used to think benches in museums and galleries were for people to sit on when they needed a rest or were bored—haha! Now, I think they are for me to ponder, enjoy, be curious about, reflect on, notice…write ekphrastically…and I LOVE sitting on a bench in a gallery. It facilitates experiencing the artworks in the gallery much differently than a casual stroll by each piece. It’s a much more enriching experience.

I’d love to invite you to view artwork slightly differently through this lens…like it’s a vivid, conversational description between you and the art you see. Rather than viewing a piece of artwork and making a gut call, “I love it. I hate it. I don’t get it.” and moving on, take a pause. Be curious about how you look at the piece.

What do you love? Why? What do you hate? What emotions or physical reactions come up for you that cause hatred? What don’t you get? Practice slowing and give yourself a few moments to wonder and really notice. Let the tightness of capital “A” “Art” soften into you.

And, listen, I know that all sounds a bit weird if you’re not used to it, but what if you said “yes” to this invitation? Just one time, give it a go.

I know from personal experience that A LOT can come from this slowing practice—so, not only let yourself be curious and contemplative as you view my artwork, but also…the next time you visit an art gallery or museum, sit down on one of the benches in the middle of the gallery and juuuuuuuusssstt….observe.

Here’s a photo of me stood, smiling, head bent over my notebook, writing an ekphrastic poem in response to one of Hockney’s portraits. I just loved this guy. I wanted to have a real conversation with him, but since he was a painting, I settled for a lively ekphrastic piece. I let the painting come alive for me and I moved into the room, pulled up a chair, and had a chat with the subject of the painting. Delightful!

Second of all, I’d love to share with you some of the origin story of my collection, “New Light, Returning Daily.”

In this April 2026 collection, “New Light, Returning Daily,” I wanted to explore using familiar materials with unfamiliar methods. I combined off-cuts from my “scrapings” paintings, pages from a rescued Bible that had been damaged, and a variety of mixed media materials to make something new with collage in a cohesive collection.

When I consider how day-to-day life can feel mundane, the same day-after-day, or simply a repeat of dull life that offers next to no progress, I easily miss the beauty in small, secret, quiet moments.

As this series of 30 pieces unfolds, I created it to capture the variety, emotions, beauty, and depth of everyday life on the daily; viewing each piece (or, each day this month) separately may reveal one thing for a viewer, but to experience each piece together may offer a new perspective, a new light, on our everyday mundane upon returning daily.

Here’s a process photo from my first brave attempts at collage.

Here’s a photo of mixed media collage: black ink monoprint + rescued Bible pages + acrylic ink pen.

I, Molly Ovenden, am a contemplative poet and painter based in Leeds, England. I write poems for people on the spot with my vintage typewriter and moments of emotion through expressive abstract paintings. Inspiration comes to me by running and wandering through nature, seeking God in everyday small moments, and holding spaces for people to be present with emotions.

Here’s a photo of my red fingernails, pretty much shaking as I started work on “New Light, Returning Daily,” not yet believing I could make art in a way that felt so different to my usual way of creating.

I believe that everyone is made to create: whether they paint or write poetry, or build literal bridges as a civil engineer or relational bridges as a great neighbour, it all takes creativity. The concept “Beauty is an arrow of Hope that points to Peace” drives me to capture, create, and share beauty with others–especially through poems and paintings.

This photo is 30 April! The final piece of this collection.

To find out more about my work as a contemplative poet and painter, please visit mollyovenden.com/art. If you’re interested in purchasing my artwork, send me a message quoting the piece’s title here on mollyovenden.com/contact.

I hope that “New Light, Returning Daily” inspires you to encounter your daily mundane with a moment of peace. It is my true desire that you find new light on your experiences, as you encounter beauty as an arrow of hope that points to peace, as you return daily to what sometimes seems the same…may it be refreshingly, peacefully new.

Thanks so much for letting me share my poetry and paintings with you. It’s such a gift to get to share with you.

Until next time…let’s return daily and discover new light.