Sweethearts by Jonathan Lewis

Hello, collectors! It's Sara, enjoying a nearly-perfect winter day here in NYC. Yesterday's bitter cold has departed, leaving a flurry of fluffy white snowflakes falling in its wake. It's the kind of day that, were we not all tucked into the office, might be nicely started with a cross-country ski Upstate, followed by a leisurely afternoon in front of a fireplace, warm and cozy, with a book and hot toddy in hand. Sounds romantic, no? (Sigh.)

It is instead my pleasure to share Sweethearts, our third edition from Jonathan Lewis, with you. Jen first introduced his work last summer. Back then, she was instantly relieved of waiting-room worries upon seeing the proof prints for Dots and Jelly Belly. The cheer in Sweethearts is, also, indeed, irrepressible, even when (again) confined to very square corners.

These lines, neatly, but secretly (how does he do it?) assembled into solid and stoic, but chaotically bright forms, are taken from an unlikely source—crassly-colored candy wrappers. Jonathan himself does a swell job of explaining the whys, if not the hows, so I'll let his statement do the talking:

Sweethearts, and the series to which it belongs, See Candy, take their inspiration from the visual cacophony emanating from the average candy section of the average supermarket. My own reaction is to vacillate between an almost childlike wonder at the sheer vibrancy of all the brightly coloured packaging, drinking in the sensory overload, and a more grown-up mode of cynical detachment, a learned defense against our media-saturated environment.

And so we all are when shopping, oscillating like the stripes in Sweethearts: alternately infatuated—operating on impulse—and rational, methodical and sticking to the list, not swayed by our senses. Because this particular print honors the candy most celebrated for the fast-approaching holiday of hearts (yes, that's right, February 14th is right around the corner), it seems appropriate to note that these impulses, whether we like them or not, apply too, to love.

In love, it's easy to sway, as Jonathan has described, between the warmth of childlike wonder and adoration and learned, aloof detachment. For young hearts and relationship veterans alike, the instinct to question connections and others' intentions in efforts to find a one-and-only or a Mr. Right (Now), is natural. It did, after all, take him a week to call back, and why does he think it's okay to text something like that? And really, how did he, on our second date, map out our next twenty years together? Who does that? And why didn't I find it terribly romantic?

And then, when it seems that your worst, pessimistic fears will take over—the end is near and you're doomed to be single FOREVER—someone or something (like this print, perhaps!) surprises you, and the flutters are back. In a good way.