This painting grew out of a moment when two kinds of change collided. One happening in the world around me, and one happening inside my own eyes. As the penny was discontinued, I found myself thinking about how value, memory, and the things we take for granted can disappear quietly, almost without ceremony. At the same time, my vision was beginning to shift because of retinopathy, softening edges and altering the way I perceive light, contrast, and detail.

The raven holding the penny became the perfect symbol for that intersection. Perched on a weathered skull and column, it stands between what is fading and what remains. The penny in its beak is both a relic and a reminder. Something once so ordinary now becoming rare, much like the clarity I used to see the world with. The textures, cracks, and atmospheric colors echo the way my vision has changed: still beautiful, but different, layered, and unpredictable.

This piece is a meditation on loss, adaptation, and the strange poetry of transition. It reflects how objects, senses, and eras slip away, yet leave behind a story worth holding onto. It invites viewers to consider what we keep, what we let go of, and how we learn to see again when the world shifts beneath us.