By Melanie Calabrese
Acrylic on Canvas (8x8) with a Birch Frame (10x10)
I love deer. So much so I think one day my spirit will come back as one of them. And while some may think that is a poor choice due to their skiddishness or lack of awareness sometimes, I think that's what makes me like them even more. Where I live, I have the pleasure of seeing at least one every day, and the days I don't, I wonder why or even what they are up to in a way. Recently, many fawns have been popping up, and it's amazing to get to see such a small animal with my own eyes, and even to witness the stages of its own life.
I choose to zoom in on a fawn's fur because it's one of the first things you'll see, the spots, the softness, the vulnerability of it all. I wanted to stay with that moment of wonder. The fur itself speaks to a kind of innocence and fragility. For me, getting up close is all about what slowing down really feels like. There's something deeply heroic in that act itself, choosing to linger on something right in front of us, especially in a world that continuously pushes us to move faster. The fur is a reminder that beauty doesn't always have to be in monumental moments; it exists in the small, living details of everyday life, if we choose to pay attention. Alongside the painting, I decided to include an audio aspect. The natural sounds of my backyard. The trees rustling, the changing direction of the wind, the stillness of it all. These sounds are things we typically never notice. By including them, I not only wanted the viewer to immerse themselves in the piece, but I also wanted to extend my experience of awareness.
Deer, and fawns especially, carry this type of duality that I find deeply human. They live in stillness yet are always alert. Always ready to run if needed. Between calm and fear, fragility and survival is something we all experience in our daily lives. This innocence is embodied by fawns, which reminds me that being a hero isn't all about being unbreakable; it's about continuing to exist, grow, and move forward even when vulnerable. The qualities of a fawn show what it means to be human today. We move through life with hope but also the constant awareness of uncertainty. That tension is never weakness; it's resilience. Heroism is about showing up and taking one day at a time and finding the courage to be present.
It's all about presence. By choosing to linger once in a while, you begin to honor the everyday, the quiet heroism of noticing. Returning to what is real. In a time when the world is constantly urging us to optimize, automate, and think less for ourselves, this small act becomes resistance. To really, truly feel is what being human is all about. By pairing the audio and the fawn, I am reminding myself that the heroic is not always something grand, but as simple as pausing long enough to take in what's right in front of us.
