Elyse Martin My current work explores the possibility of making visual sense through a process that, though sometimes complex, turns out to be a managed serendipity. I create large abstracts, worked flat. I start with acrylic paint, beginning with colors in different areas and manipulating the canvas until I find what works. The beginning is almost arbitrary, but what emerges is usually surprising. I combine paint with a variety of textures - sometimes pouring medium, sometimes varnish, sometimes gels - to create surfaces that I embellish, remove, scrape, splatter or puddle. Walking around the canvas as I work, I discover what perspective best suits the piece. Whether vertical, horizontal or angled, there is a struggle between disarray and harmony, comfort and discomfort that I strive to resolve in each piece. This process can sometimes be completed through a minute detail or a disparate dash of color. I hope to keep the viewer simultaneously engaged by the complexities within the work and soothed by the empty spaces between.

I doubt therefore I am I do not walk in certainty.
 I live in the hum of questions. 
Truth is not a possession, but a presence. 
I doubt, therefore I am. I don’t know if the soul is eternal.
 I don’t know if death is a door.
 But I move as if love matters.
 As if kindness counts.
 As if wonder is worth following. The only thing I know is that I do not know anything, really.
 And in that, I find space.
 Not safety—
but aliveness. I do not follow fixed stars.
 I strike sparks against the dark.
 Each one a breath.
 A doubt.
 A prayer.
 Still burning.
 Still here.

Birds in these paintings are at the center of a constructed world of human artifacts and environments. It is a model space, a virtual universe. I see birds literally, as members of a certain species, and also metaphorically, as representing all creatures, including ourselves. Birds are our cousins — more similar to us than different — and we share with them the trajectory of our journey through the cosmos. My work responds to the crises of our time, using a coded and analytic language, but ultimately seeking an emotional response of empathetic identification.

The phrase “imperfect memory, perfected” anchors my work. As a fine art photographer, I create layered digital composites that move with the rhythm of memory, fading, shifting, and reassembling through feeling rather than strict chronology. Rooted in traditional darkroom training and inspired by the masters of photography, I build each image from dozens of photographs taken over time, across changing light, space, and perspective. The result is a carefully constructed illusion, grounded in reality but nudged just enough toward the dreamlike and elusive. This process mirrors how we recall the past: selectively, emotionally, and imperfectly. Through deliberate composition and patient refinement, these elements coalesce into something cohesive, poetic, and enduring. Each element is carefully captured and thoughtfully arranged, reflecting a dedication to the craft of photography cultivated over more than 20 years. The digital tools I use—Photoshop, Lightroom, and others—are extensions of my vision, allowing me to shape and reveal the emotional resonance within each image. The images invite careful viewing, revealing layers where the familiar gradually shifts and transforms, inviting a deeper exploration beyond the surface. Ultimately, these images are more than photographs—they are layered expressions of feeling, shaped by memory’s imperfect and elusive nature.

Through exploiting the driving, accumulative qualities of drawing and investigating the process of mark-making, the language of drawing has become both a means of self-expression as well as a system of thinking for me. The practice and process of marking a surface has moved to the level of obsessive fixation, and compulsive necessity. I consider my non-figurative work biology as self-portraiture, where the artist, present as the only inhabitant in the drawing recodifies personal identity – interrogated, erased, even hybridized and reformed.

Self sabotage is my guiding principle. I generally make a piece of art which has some kind of meaning or beauty, then put something dumb with it. Thereby avoiding any real judgement by the viewer. The piece then becomes just funny. Just good for a laugh. This sensibility extends to other parts of my art life. I received an MFA from the School of the the Art Institute of Chicago - but not really. One last paper was all that was needed to get my degree. I blew it off, bought an ancient Suburban and drove to California with my girlfriend of 3 weeks. Exhibiting self sabotage and some kind of perceived outlaw sensibility. The format of my art is simple. One photograph in a frame which has 2 shelves. There are objects on the shelves. The photographs are usually taken in natural history museums. Whether the objects enhance or lessen the viewers interest is unclear to me. As a whole, the work is autobiographical. The themes that run through, as I see it, are boyhood, manhood, my Father and suicide. Some mean nothing. I work with great joy. I embrace my freedom to be meaningless.

I AM - INITIATING - a SPACE of IN BETWEEN - EXPLORING - PERSPECTIVE - PLAYING - OBJECT of IDENTITY - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - QUESTIONING HUMAN BEING IN ITS DUALITY - INITIATING THE INNER OBSERVER - EXPLORING THE INTERWOVEN RELATIONSHIP IN BETWEEN INNER AND OUTER SPACES - AWARE OF COMPLEXITY -INSPIRED BY A PROFOUND LOVE FOR THE CIRCLE - I NAVIGATE THE SPACE - - - - - - - -IN BETWEEN - INTROSPECTION AND INTERACTION - THROUGH MEDITATION AND PLAY - DECONSTRUCTING - AS I CIRCLE AROUND FRAGMENTS OF SPACE AND TIME - REFLECTING AND UNFOLDING THE PROCESSUAL - INTO THE POSSIBILITY OF A NEW PERSPECTIVE - - - - - - - - - - - - -LEADING TO A VISIBILITY OF THINGS

Bienaimee is exploring the multi-facets of peace in her paintings and poems. The Artist Book, PEACE Carry Dust, Fire, Incandescence is an original in an edition of 36. Each cover is a unique painting using gold leaf and paint on paper (left) and the painting on the right is a tipped in print, Peace As If a Dream. There are nineteen original poems in this artist book.

Inspired by the Roman Catholic churches of my childhood in an Italian working-class neighborhood of Philadelphia, by my family’s deep roots on Italy’s Adriatic coast, by my queer cultural activism, and by theatre and performance art, these pieces bring together a tribe of imaginary characters – some brothers, some lovers, some saints - in a joyful dance of communal pride. I hand-build and slip cast these figures, surfacing them with handwritten words from my poems and lyrics, adorning/tattooing them with pencil, pen, paint, glaze, and leaf. Some are illuminated from within.

I create art reflecting my lived experiences with Bipolar Disorder, addiction, rehab, and recovery, to promote a better understanding of Bipolar among people with no experience with the illness, and to give hope to those living with Bipolar from a survivor who has come out the other side. By working with encaustic I am able to build many layers, just as there are many layers to every one of us. As you move closer and look deep you can see the whole picture, just as you must get to know someone on the inside to truly know who they are.

I’m drawn to creative sparks like fireflies—the magic, the mess, the can’t-quite-explain-it excitements in life. Each day, my curiosity meets a canvas and invites me to dance. I always accept. My work lives between chaos and calm, between a mark that behaves and one that refuses. I love both. As a Los Angeles native, I’ve always been surrounded by grit, glitter, and glorious contradictions. That energy seeps into everything I create. My paintings are layered, textured, and a bit rebellious. I work in mixed media—ink, acrylics, printmaking, charcoal, oil, oil sticks, clay—whatever lets me dive in, get my hands messy, and feel something real. Each mark I make is a question, a moment, a little “what if?” I’m fascinated by the human experience—our vulnerability, wonder, and not-having-it-all-figured-out-ness. Faces and figures emerge in my work, sometimes fully formed, sometimes just a hint—like they’re peeking through, asking to be seen. I like to think of them as guides. I don’t want to make art that just hangs there (though I am a fan of beauty). But I want more, I want my work to speak, to inspire, to stir something up in the viewer—a memory, a question, maybe just “wow, that’s weird.” I'm interested in art connecting us—to ourselves, to others, to the beautiful mess of being alive. I embrace imperfection. Like Leonard Cohen said, “There’s a crack in everything, that’s how the light gets in.” Making art is how I make sense of things—or at least how I enjoy the nonsense.

Windows Within: Universal Narratives in Fractured Realism is an ongoing series of painted portraits and biographies, both commissioned and non-commissioned, rooted in interviews and deep explorations of others' lives. Inspired by the psychological model of Johari’s Window, which examines the interplay between what is known and unknown to ourselves and others, this series delves into the complexity of identity, challenges, vulnerabilities, and resilience revealed through personal experiences.

My "Gestures Glitches" series explores the liminal spaces between the enduring physicality of gestural acrylic painting and the ephemeral, disruptive energy of digital glitches. Expressive brushstrokes and layered colours collide, overlays with "glitched" images of the same painting. This juxtaposition of the organic and technological creates a visual dialogue, a dynamic interplay where intention and accident, permanence and impermanence, converge. The layered images reflect the cyclical nature of time, the accumulation of memories, and the recurring patterns of change that shape our lived experiences. Glitches, as visual disruptions within these patterns, become powerful metaphors for the unpredictable, personal, societal, and technological forces that alter our perceptions of reality and propel us towards transformation. This work, deeply rooted in the exploration of liminality and layered histories, resonates with the "As It Unfolds" curatorial vision, examining the continuous and evolving nature of human experience. It invites viewers to contemplate the spaces "between," where meaning is forged in the dynamic interplay of seemingly disparate elements, prompting reflection on our evolving relationships with time, change, and the world.

Dealing with the edge of living—the anxiety, trauma, and fear—tempered by the parts that make life worth it—love, touch, and excitement—informs the colors and shapes that come to me. My artistic process unfolds intuitively and rather unpredictably. I describe events using imagery. Once I realize what event is being described, the piece starts to take shape. The work is always about identity, often injustice, sometimes optimism. Fundamentally, these pieces focus on joy, pain and rage. Through memorial and celebration, my goal is to elevate the oppressed and marginalized, thereby creating an increased sense of honor, power, and safety. I do this to achieve a greater sense of peace in myself and hopefully in the viewer.

The large-scale torn paper landscapes symbolize the transitory and reconstructive nature of experience, where creation and destruction shape our perception of the world. They highlight the beauty in imperfection and the fluidity of time. Through their material and visual complexity, these works invite viewers to reflect on how they, too, are constantly reshaped by time and space.

By revealing the design and art in botanicals we will be able to still see the earth’s wonders with photography and will be able to view what nature once looked like before it is too late.. This beauty sustains us in ways that can be experienced with the details found in botanicals. My fear is that these botanicals will not be available in the future because of climate change.

I remember drawing as soon as I could hold a crayon and was fortunate that my family encouraged my love of the arts. My first sentence was “I See.” When I was a college junior at Pratt, studying abroad in Florence, Italy, I traveled north on a train, and saw the churches, museums and an exhibition in Vercelli, commemorating 400 years since the death of Renaissance painter Bernardino Lanino (1512-1583). I learned about the prolific Lanino Workshop in Vercelli and of my ancestral connections to this great artist. In my work, I use Renaissance techniques such as chiaroscuro (lights and darks), sfumato (blurring edges) pentimento (painting over), thin transparent layers of glazes and thick impasto. I give thanks to God. My goal is to uplift and to bring beauty and positivity to the viewer.

Working across various media, my practice explores the interplay between the tangible—body, objects, and material—and the intangible—digital, energy, and spirits. Alongside my dedicated studio practice, where I focus on creating sculptures, video installations, and photographic works, I also develop long-term performative projects. These performances actively engage the public through location-specific choreographies, immersive soundscapes, and wearable textile props. By blurring the boundaries between spectator and performer, they address fundamental themes such as death, love, and compassion, while responding to the pressing environmental, political, and social challenges of our time.

My paintings explore the relationship of color, form and spontaneity. I begin with three colors, and using large sponges, let my intuition guide my choices and mark-making. I am interested in how color creates emotion and accesses a feeling state beyond words, a vibration. The newest body of work on raw canvas is a departure in that each piece is purely abstract with no obvious reference to the landscape, although just as influenced by nature and my daily walks, specifically the forest, with its layers of flora and intersecting shapes.

My art usually comes to me as an image reflecting a topic I have been studying or ruminating on, that I can roughly sketch out. I use Circles and squares or curves and lines to express the feminine or masculine idea. I guess I am an abstract expressionist playing in the confluence of intuition, primal gender expression and the human soul’s evolution, but I am self-taught and extremely experimental in my approach. Currently I am using topographical maps obtained from the Smoke Jumpers of Northern California, or handmade mulberry paper affixed to a board to create a geometrical layer of texture. Covering the paper base lightly with gesso allows visibility of some of the darker images and words, adding depth and interest. In reverence to the origins of these maps and the wild fires they aided in containing, these small obscured visual details represent much of what is actually left to see after one of these fires destroys a forest- or liberates it, depending on your perspective. I scribble the oil pastels like crayons, rough and messy, then use paint brushes and linseed fast drying oil to blend smooth and fill the spaces. I enjoy the flexibility of oil pastels and oil paints while internally battling the need for controlling the edges and balancing the vibrant color palettes. I feel I am in a constant looping state of creation, control, surrender and faith when I am in my studio- this is where the most Soul expansion takes place and I hope is expressed in my work.

Skuja Braden is a dynamic collaboration between Ingūna Skuja of Latvia and Melissa Braden of California, united by a shared passion for porcelain as both medium and metaphor. Our collaborative practice transcends individual authorship, working under a merged pseudonym that embraces an “absence of presence”—erasing singular identity in favor of a collective voice. Our work emerges from a non-hierarchical framework, celebrating inclusivity and subverting conventional power structures. Each piece navigates the spaces between self and other, tradition and innovation. The creative process is a vibrant interplay of meticulous hand-sculpting and expressive glazing—where painting, sculpture, and political, decorative, and literary narratives converge. Guided by a multi-dimensional lens, our art reflects the many facets of identity: I, me, you, we, her, they, and everyone else. Porcelain—a material historically linked to refinement—is reimagined as a canvas for subversion and reinvention. Our works have traveled beyond our studio walls, residing in prestigious collections and museums across Australia, Belgium, Canada, China, Denmark, France, Germany, Hungary, Ireland, Italy, Korea, Latvia, Luxembourg, Netherlands, Norway, Sweden, Switzerland, Russia, and the United States. Skuja Braden is more than a name—it is a call to witness the power of collaborative creation, where disparate identities fuse into an ever-expanding universe of artistic possibility. We invite you to explore thi

Jeffrey Hartman is a painter. I work in oils, gouache, and acrylic. My work includes a series of oil paintings of sections of bicycles, treated as still life, from the 1970's and 1980's, as well as more traditional still life. The "Gone" series, in oils, from the 2010's was based on old family photographs. Also in the 2010's, another series of gouache paintings based on "The Denial of Death" (1973), by Earnest Becker, featured words and phrases in the backgrounds, partly obscured by foreground objects painted separately and pasted on. Starting in 2022 the current series features words and phrases as foreground. Additional Artists’ Statements of all flowery sorts may be found athttps://artybollocks.com/

I tell stories with images, words, in frames, on walls or screens, that spark conversation, provoke thought and delight the heart. After completing an elementary school assignment writing stories about Life magazine pictures, I was inspired to tell stories with my own photos. Starting with my mother’s Brownie camera, I stalked relatives, pets and captured inanimate objects in ‘motionless movement’. Then I diligently did chores around our North Carolina farm, to save money to buy a Polaroid, Kodak and flash cubes. Since then, I have strolled streets, beaches and backwoods around the world to shoot pictures on everything from Pentaxs and Casios, to Canons and iPhones. A perfect compliment to my wanderlust. My early engagement in visual storytelling with photography, coupled with a passion for prose, and performance, morphed itself into character-driven filmmaking. Both mediums allow me to explore depths of the human condition, to dance with perspectives and tones, that reveal and evoke a spectrum of emotions. Inspired by the ornately carved wooden frames of Renaissance and Flemish paintings, during the pandemic, I started creating multimedia framing for my photographs. 'Hacking’ the conventional system of black, white or gold straight edge metal and wood frames, I use an array of textures and colors that compliment the photograph and enhance the narrative of the image’s composition. Which has inspired me to integrate my images into a variety of design mediums.

I am a visual artist based in Windsor, Ontario, Canada, working primarily in acrylic and oil on canvas. My creative journey began in Hungary, where countless childhood hours spent sketching and painting laid the foundation for a lifelong passion. Over the past two decades, I’ve explored various mediums—from printmaking to computer rendering—but always returned to the tactile immediacy of paint. Deeply inspired by Abstract Expressionism, my work is intuitive, gestural, and emotionally charged. Each piece begins with a textured foundation and evolves through a process of drawing, painting, and sculpting the paint itself. I mix my own colours and build layers spontaneously, letting each gesture respond to the last. This process allows the subconscious to guide me, often in a meditative state, where I find meaning not through representation, but through movement, contrast, and flow. My interest in psychology and mindfulness shapes my current artistic quest: to create paintings that calms the mind and nourishes the spirit. In a world saturated with noise and overstimulation, I want my work to offer a quiet space—art that heals through stillness, texture, and presence. By embracing non-verbal, abstract storytelling, I aim to tap into something universal and deeply human. I hope these works reflect our shared emotional landscape and invite the viewer into a moment of introspection, rest, and renewal.

I love Matthew Fox's definition of an artist: To intoxicate, to speak the truth, to heal yourself and to heal the world. I share these goals. I love the joy of making a decision and taking action with my head, heart and hand working in a flowing alignment. The mystery and mercury of creation never ceases to amaze me. As an extreme extrovert, making art gives me insight into my own internal landscape which is not easily accessible to me. I also love making art with people. That is my idea of heaven - to come together with our heartaches and help this pain heal through the alchemy of imagination, making a shared vision of success which sparks innovation. I love practicing emergent wisdom where none of us know what will happen when we make a collaborative work of art. The collective genius always arises. My practice of striving to express my experience as a human being through art gives me credibility to lead others. I want the Village for myself, my children, my grandchildren and for all humanity - to share stories, images, dance, clothes, music, song as humans did for over 350,000 years. I make trees and forests the beautiful collaborative model of the whole world making a painting together, honoring the exquisite purpose of every organism in the eco-system and every person on the planet. War and violence are big, ugly and visible. I want Peace peace to be big, loud and beautiful. That is my life's purpose.

I create to find home. Not in the world – but within myself. In calm. In balance. In the silence between the lines. The world is loud. People get sick. We fight against each other and against ourselves. Many no longer know who they are or why they are here. I believe this happens because we have lost connection to what matters most: ourselves. Our inner voice. Our soul. My art responds to that, illuminating another path, a calm space amidst noise. It is a reminder that, in a world where everything moves fast, where everything must be explained, measured, and understood, we can find our way home again.

The Midnight Series was recently inspired by a dark studio; with references to the night sky, the cosmos, the idea of mortality and the journey through life. My aim is ontological: to find the jewel in being alive and fabricate a mysterious presence, almost living and breathing, which leans into beauty,

Hi, I am Caroline and I paint energy and colour! I enjoy the joys of self-expression and what art and creativity can do for the mind and soul for the individual and society at large. As patron of Mhist, our local mental health charity, I see first-hand how much wellbeing is gained for the service users from art, that is being around art and creating it. I love creating art to create joy, love, warmth and happiness. I paint because I have to. I am not happy otherwise. I know I am lucky and I wish to spread joy and manifest love.

My artwork is a reflection of my perspective, blending fantasy and reality. It’s my interpretation of iridescence—where the angle of light reveals different colors, transforming how we see the world. Each piece invites viewers to shift their perspective, seeing everyday moments in a new way. Through layering materials and intricate details, I aim to create work that sparks conversation, connection, and a deeper appreciation for the world around us. My motto is that "art is a reminder that anything is possible."

My background in performance shapes my artistic approach, where movement, light, sound, and materiality intersect in immersive installations to create dynamic environments. The paintings and sculptures I create derive from these projects. In exploring the ever-shifting nature of life, I was drawn to the concept of Lazarus taxa—species that, after being presumed extinct, suddenly reappear after long periods of absence. Does anything truly vanish, or does it simply await reemergence in a new form? This idea resonates with the experience of restaging choreography—where new performers inhabit the same roles, breathing fresh life into familiar structures. Like a species evolving through replication, each iteration carries something unique, shaped by time and context. How permanent is anything? How does the past appear in the present, and the present shape the future? This ambiguity compels me, and creating art is a way of engaging with these experiences—a process of resurfacing, transformation, and renewal.

I was driving with the radio on when I discovered the reason for my work. I don't recall what they were talking about, but a word they used really struck me, “PERMEABILITY.” In that moment, I understood that my work speaks of the passage of time, traces, what exists one day and not the next, and the vulnerability of our bodies and our environment.

I work with materials that respond to the elements- sunlight, saltwater, wind, precipitation and time. Using light-sensitive materials and foraged pigments on paper, I let the environment mark the work. Nothing stays fixed. Colors shift, textures emerge, forms continue to evolve long after they leave my hands, like a garden after it’s planted continues to change and grow. My background in landscape design and arboriculture taught me to work with living systems. That same understanding guides my studio practice. I don’t force materials to behave, I observe, adapt, and respond. The resulting forms speak to geologic and cosmic time, to forces larger than ourselves, and to the quiet, continuous act of seeing with the whole body.

My process hinges on exploration and the resulting development of my skills and understanding of materials.   In my current work, I start by sketching with graphite or ink on big pads of newsprint, thinking largely about a certain feeling or inclination that has been brewing inside me. I allow my lines to guide me, not thinking about the aesthetics of their placement. After several iterations, I move to canvas and begin by echoing the most pleasing aspects of the preliminary sketches, with the aim to find early balance and harmony.   I usually work in a single session if time allows because paint behaves differently on the first day than any other day, and I prefer those first results. So, I try to work quickly, which also frees me from thinking too much about what I will do next.   I consider the areas where lines intersect and what negative or positive interplays these could create. I like to establish a visual foundation of rhythm, push, and pull. Then I can bring in different colors of varying viscosity, from thick impasto to highly fluid, transparent, and dripping. I like to scrub, stroke, smooth out the paint, and draw with it. I like the undrawn line that a screwdriver or bamboo skewer make. The reductive process of Sgraffito brings a patterned, decorative, and gendered sensibility to my compositions.   Ultimately each work is a physical record of my experimentation—a visual documentation of the choices and risks that lead from one discovery to the next.

From an early age, I was fortunate to travel extensively, experiencing the world's beauty and its rawness. My exposure to the world’s complexities shaped how I see and document humanity. When I was seven, during a trip to India with my father, I encountered harsh realities that ignited my curiosity and empathy. This pivotal moment began my lifelong commitment to capturing extraordinary stories of ordinary lives and exploring the less visible facets of human society. I began collaborating with international magazines after earning a graduate diploma in photojournalism from the Scuola Romana di Fotografia. My fascination with family and human communities has become a recurring theme in my work and an inexhaustible source of inspiration. Family ties, with all their intricacies, profoundly influence how we relate to the world, this exploration forms the foundation of much of my photography. I am drawn to creating narratives that blend reality and fiction, often staging sets, designing costumes, and arranging large groups of people within a single frame. Cinema deeply inspires my creative process, which informs my approach to framing, scenography, lighting, and visual storytelling. Photography is a therapeutic medium, a direct and unfiltered channel to communicate with others. It fosters a flow of shared experiences, illuminating the unresolved and often hidden corners of both the artist and the artist.

In my art, it is my inspiration first and the medium after. Freedom is the foundation of the manner in which I express myself. I like to create, but I also want to see my personality and life experience in what I create. I started drawing in black and white a long time ago with a simple, affordable ballpoint pen on paper as I often relate visually to natural and carved ebony wood which influenced me a lot. Growing up in a community active in farming, fishing, and raising cattle taught me many things. Such a nurturing and cyclical environment was the “school of life” for me. I have been involved in art since my childhood. I never underwent formal training in art as I grew up in a family with very limited finances. I always had difficulty getting standard art supplies. During that time in my life, I was completely unacquainted with “art” as an academic term. But over time, with patience, perseverance, and simply doing what I always loved to do, I felt encouraged and adopted a personal philosophy that has made me very independent in the style in which I express myself. To create my art, I prefer to work in a non-traditional manner and move away from the strictly academic methods because my school is everyday life. In my drawings, I utilize simple but unforgiving tools as I explore people living and working with dignity in rural, communal life – a life that has many layers of individual obligation and societal expectation.

I work with paraffin wax because it resists control. It flows, shifts, responds to gravity and heat, and often surprises me. I don’t try to dominate it. Instead, I collaborate with its physical properties, using the laws of physics as co-authors in shaping intricate, often organic forms. Each piece evolves through a tension between structure and chance. I’m drawn to the logic of systems—Penrose tilings, Fibonacci spirals and the inner structured order of chaotic distributions. These patterns appear throughout nature, and they reflect the kind of complexity I try to cultivate in my work. I plan carefully, but I also leave space for accidents. That edge of unpredictability is where the most interesting things happen. For me, painting is a language beyond words. The works are not meant to explain something; they are expressions of thought in form—silent, layered, and unfolding slowly. The fragility of the wax is not a flaw. It’s part of the meaning. Each piece holds the tension between delicacy and persistence. I understand that the market may see fragility as a problem. I don’t. For me, the quality of the material mirrors the nature of existence, its —complex, temporary, and beautiful in its instability, but it survives centuries as seen in the Fayoum Portraits of ancient Egypt, made of wax. Still these works are about permanence and about presence. What I make invites close attention. It asks for patience.

After devoting ourselves to the care and flourishing of our sunflower field, a fierce and unrelenting force swept through, ravaging both our cherished seeds and blossoms, leaving the sunflower community shattered, wounded, and etched with enduring scars.

In my practice I fuse non-traditional materials and found items, to break free from the confines of the canvas and give my pieces a more sculptural quality, occupying physical space and engaging with the environment. Nature and the passage of time are the key inspirations of my work. The organic forms, textures, and cycles of nature influence my artistic direction as well as the effects of time; weathering, decay, and growth, as they symbolize impermanence, transformation, and the cyclical nature of existence.

I create work because I am compelled to make order in an entropic universe, to understand my personal history and history in a larger context to find meaning in the present. I want to share these "expressions" with others and to generate conversations about how their experiences and mine align and how they differ. I continuously strive to abandon internal controls that do not serve me in life or as an artist. I struggle with everyday life experiences and work to give voice to my challenges in my painting. These efforts and my appreciation of blessings shape my vision. From the start, I have represented my inner world as a three-dimensional realm—sometimes an interior with a window view or a mirror reflecting an imaginary place or people gathering or a person, a portrait. However, the painting is a unified, impenetrable surface of flat shapes (a puzzle), and I want viewers to see/understand this dimension as well. A painting, like life, is a paradox. I manipulate these "opposing" dimensions and ideas to create work that has dynamic unity. Sunflower stems overlap to form an X-shape, a table seemingly reflected in a mirror transforms to a table inside and outside the mirror and the mirror frame to a simple, rectangular contour. Often, the viewer doesn’t see these individual manipulations, but if successful, they stimulate a more sustained and imaginative reflection and a feeling of looking at something of life, something that changes from one thing to another and then another.

My work responds to and makes tangible what I see and experience. I go out into the world and capture what catches my eye. I then refine and enhance that into a tangible form (the print), retaining the essence that attracted me in the first place. Long ago, I completed a body of work entitled “Sitting Standing Walking,” after realizing that my best, most authentic work came from these simple activities. With that understanding, my work has since become an inquiry into the relationships between memory, my experience, and the creation and existence of the photograph.

A few years ago I was interviewed for a studio visit video blog. The interviewer asked me if my interest in intense subtlety was a way of being in dialogue with the natural world. This was such an illuminating question and my answer was yes. I’m curious about why the nuances of repetition of form in nature are so moving, be it leaves on a tree, blades of grass in a field, or pale buildings encrusting the hillsides of San Francisco. Although my work is abstract, this curiosity informs my process. My paintings are about relationships between colors and light. I want to understand why color has the effect on our psyches that it does. I employ shifts of warm and cool tones within a limited palette, with incremental tonal changes that occur across the canvas. I employ a particular type of mark making and build layers over repetitive applications of that mark. I want to create a space in which one can quiet their mind and think about movement, growth, and interconnectedness.

Towering at a majestic 5.5 m height, The Walk draws its inspiration from the renowned Romanian artist and sculptor, Constantin Brancusi. The sculpture narrates the compelling story of Brancusi's arduous journey from his Romanian birthplace to the distant city of Paris, all on foot. It captures the essence of the infinite pillar, a recurring motif in Brancusi's work, representing the transition from abstract contemplation to concrete realization. This piece, at its core, explores the human experience of heeding a profound calling, symbolized by the act of walking.

Whose Legacy is it? Is a semi-autobiographical work that serves broadly as a consideration of epigenetics and the ancestral reverberations that, through a wildly improbable roll of genetic dice led to this moment. More specifically, this installation uses soft sculpture and a series of modified polaroid images reimagined as 21 family ancestors to consider the weight of historical narrative, acknowledging the mix of microscopic DNA strands, both good and less fortunate, that lead to any one individual’s existence. No amount of shaking can dislodge either from the family tree. To what extent does this knowledge impact one’s perception of self? To what extent should it? Acknowledging that there’s no changing the past, where does that leave us moving forward?

I am a neo-optical contemporary artist, defining this as more than juxtaposing colors but as finding new ways of 'seeing'. I use repurposed vintage French glass to blur my images, adding abstraction and depth, and fading the lines between reality and perception. Using water as a metaphor for our subconscious actions' fluid and hidden nature, I explore the question, "Why do we do the things we do?" Water, with its cohesion and flexibility, represents the fragility and interconnectedness of our social ecosystems. This central theme in my work depicts the delicate balance and intricate connections in our interactions and relationships. By using glass to create a pixellated and blurred representation of subconscious reactions, I highlight the fragmented and fragile nature of modern identity and how technology mediates our self-perception, influencing us through echo chambers, repetition, and self-validation. My multidisciplinary practice encompasses traditional and digital mediums. I paint with oil on canvas, creating rich, textured works that invite viewers to explore the layers of meaning beneath the surface. Additionally, through photography, video, and computational works, I explore the intersection of art and technology to bring my concepts to life. Through my diverse body of work, I aim to uncover the hidden layers of our subconscious ecosystems, social cohesion, and individuality.

My art is a combination of my self and my world as a conduit intertwining, connecting and exploring a more universal world. I am exploring the universality, the oneness, the mindfulness of consciousness.

I explore the essence of human beings and their circumstances through mixed media painting, photomontage, textile art, dance, video art, and digital painting, with a focus on the intersection between nature and the human condition. The distinctive value of my art lies in its personal and expressive poetics, resulting in multilayered works that uncover complexity within simplicity. HYBRID series proposes an integration of photography and painting as visual metaphors: two languages oscillating between the real and the imagined. I digitally combine details from my mixed-media paintings with images I capture from nature. In my mixed media paintings, I integrate a wide range of materials and techniques I develope independently, such as ecoprinting. Three of these paintings belong to the INTRINSIC NATURE series, which explores how natural processes and animal life reflect our emotions and experiences. “Nocturne” is part of the WINGED BEINGS series, explores the perception of how fleeting our life is through the ephemeral lives of butterflies and dragonflies. BEAUTY IN THE PERISHABLE series reflects my internal conflict as a middle-aged woman facing bodily changes and patriarchal beauty standards, pairing close-ups of natural decay with images of my body. The project also engages with gerontophobia, inviting reflection on aging and the social constructs shaping self-perception. Currently working on textile art.

I am a Mexican American multimedia artist that produces sculpture and works on paper to connect old narratives and make new aesthetic assessments. While studying at RISD in the northeastern United States, I unexpectedly missed family and the southwest and began to mine Meso-American mythology as a means of soothing my longing for home. What started out as a consolatory process, evolved into a reflexive exploration that compelled me to re-identify with my cultural heritage. I use materials and studio processes that relate to the concepts within the myths that I explore. Like the shapeshifting Nahual, in my Nahual Series, I use clay to create transitory objects that depict abstract figures fluidly morphing into other forms. I use Grolleg porcelain, a clay body that has enough water and elasticity to withstand the trauma of being bent, stretched, and contorted in order to take on its form. Bits of bone, fur, and fabric from my own and my family members’ clothing emerge from the folds, offering a glimpse of its future and former self. These concepts are in constant states of negotiation, navigating the common threads between current existence and ancestral tradition. The stories encased within my work bring origin and self recognition into question, inviting viewers to blur the lines between the inside and outside, the public and private , reflecting our individual need for cultural sustenance in our splintered American landscape.

Art is a journey, not a destination. It is a game of life in which I research the principles of life. To be creative, you must not be afraid. Each step is a step into the realm of the unknown. On the other hand, there is endless grace here. Discoveries come gradually, like veils that reveal the true image of the world. You never look at things but behind them - into the void. You never look at the clouds but at the blue sky behind. Man sees the sky only when there are no clouds. A true artist always sees it, whether the clouds are here or not. You never look at an image, you never watch the vibration, which it creates but the emptiness behind them. Blacklight, emptiness, silence.

I create art to articulate the emotional states that I am unable to access directly. Making paintings, drawings and monoprints I use family, friends, and people I encounter at the dinner table, hiking trails, concerts, museums, and the subway. The work looks at how we share these spaces, expressing feelings of fear, anxiety, self-doubt, loneliness and resilience I see in myself and in those around me. It is a mirror to our modern disconnection populated by selfies, likes, and algorithms, slowly unraveling the myth of how it is to be seen in this age. In the work, figures are in groups, held in a place away from the others, trapped in isolation forever unable to connect or touch one another. Locked into this, even when looking, the figures fail to see one another. Acidic, abraded, and charged colors encapsulate each figure in a psychological space of quiet longingness. The process of making art informs the way I live. The ritual of artmaking helps me to dismantle the protective barriers I built to survive in the social systems around me. Through this journey, I discover and embrace the power of connection, honesty, and generosity.

Gregory Kitterle’s work captivates through its blend of timeless aesthetics and intricate surface textures. His mastery of traditional fresco techniques and layered compositions evoke a tactile history, with cracks and imperfections that speak to themes of decay, memory, and the passage of time. By merging the figurative and the abstract, Kitterle creates enigmatic environments that invite prolonged contemplation. His use of dramatic light and shadow heightens the emotional intensity of his pieces, suggesting both the divine and the mysterious. His paintings and drawings showcase his ability to infuse mythological symbolism within surreal settings, drawing viewers into complex, layered narratives. While his paintings demand intellectual engagement, the implied narratives and abstracted elements might prove challenging for those seeking immediate clarity. Nevertheless, Kitterle’s work stands as a testament to the power of texture, light, and symbolism in transforming the painted surface into an evocative journey.

I am enthralled with the Ultimate Self. What is it, actually? Does this ideal version of ourselves truly exist? If so, how do we unlock our fullest potential? Is it through trials and tribulations or experiences and epiphanies? Or it is innate, blooming again and again over time. Through fantastical imagery, personally crafted iconography, and tongue-in-cheek philosophical references to Taoism, Dualism/Nondualism, and others, I explore and encourage ideas on how to power up, learn a new special move, and defeat the mini and final bosses throughout life and within ourselves (until you realize there truly are none).

Representational art, like a piece of music with lyrics, can arguably have only a finite amount of meaning and interpretation. Abstract art, on the other hand, is like music without lyrics; you can find something different within it every time you look. It has the ability to morph and change with the viewer, depending on their state of mind. My challenge is to paint the unseen. I aim to capture feelings, moods, atmospheres, thoughts, and ideas. The starting point of any painting is always a strong emotion. It can come from anything—a dream, a memory, a piece of music, or a realisation that comes after meditation. I let the experience consume me and propel me to paint. At first, I work intuitively, allowing the painting to emerge from my subconscious. Once the emotion has passed, I return to the canvas with my rational mind, to refine it. Working digitally gives me more control and opens up more possibilities, however this medium also brings a set of new challenges. The colour calibration and printing process are highly technical skills that I have found deeply rewarding to learn. I aim to push the boundaries of the digital canvas and the printing process.

For centuries, poets, musicians, and artists alike, have captured the beauty of the natural world around us. As a landscape artist, Jared looks for ways to move beyond the static moment. He strives to show nature's movement and transcendent qualities. Nature moves with the wind, is pushed and pulled by gravity, it decays and is even reborn. Through his art, Jared strives to place the laws of nature on display. He wants his paintings to show the scenes before us while also revealing the very movement and essence of the cosmos within and all around us. His chosen mediums are soft pastel and oil paint. As a modern impressionist, he favors strong, bold marks and angular strokes with a palette knife.

Featured in these images is work from the Illuminating the Self exhibition, which is the culmination of a three-year collaboration with the Newcastle University-led CANDO research project. This is work from just one of many projects; the other projects can be seen on my website. The project has had extensive support from the Wellcome Trust Public Engagement Fund. At Newcastle University there is a long history of fruitful collaborations between artists and scientists. The exhibition shows the strong lines of connection between two fields often assumed to be polar opposites. Themes within the exhibition include the human perspective of living with epilepsy and the neurological processes happening within the brain. The work also explores ideas around Optogenetics, the technology being used by the CANDO project to prevent seizures, and how external manipulation of the brain might alter our sense of self. Blue Matter, immerses the visitor in an imagined landscape of the brain. Visual metaphors are created through a combination of drawing and computer animation. Silhouettes of the brain emerge as beautiful and powerful yet at the same time mysterious and enigmatic. Tree-like forms move and shift mesmerically; jagged lines intermittently cut across them like activity in the brain disrupted by a ‘seizure’. The fragile and delicate forms suggest an idyllic landscape – the brain as the Garden of Eden – perfect and untouched.

The artwork is the statement.

I understand landscape as embodied history. Memories, dreams or reflections embody the tension of opposites found in the concept of nature. In palimpsests, the intermingling of paint, wax and newsprint creates a tension between the past and present, field and ground. In this way, time and space are fluid in the landscape.

A Zen cook gets out of the way. Yes, look! In a Zen cook’s offering to the assembly, looking everywhere, nowhere to be found is the cook. And yet how’s so in this and deeply supportive, continuously reconfigured is the way of reality by cause of such, and in profoundest love. How’s so the work of the tenzo. As Tenzo Hajime, I perform the function of the one who makes such offerings of profoundest love with reverence to the assembly of today. Please, enjoy. -------- Zen is not Proud. Zen is not a particular thing. Zen is any and everything shining and pointing at any and everything simultaneously, through even the most common and regular of things.

Grasslands | Islandi was photographed during my one-month NES Artist Residency in Skagaströnd, Iceland, in October 2024. Traveling along Iceland’s west coast from Akureyri to Vik, I immersed myself in its sweeping landscapes.I was struck by the vastness of the terrain—a scale almost impossible to capture. A two-dimensional image often feels like a weak facsimile, lacking the depth and presence of being rooted in space. To express the emotions and vibrancy of a place best experienced in three dimensions, I focused on Iceland’s sensory essence, recognizing its visual beauty as inseparable from its atmosphere. This realization led me away from traditional landscape photography toward images that evoke light, texture, and abstraction, creating an impressionistic, emotive sensibility.This shift sparked an unexpected fascination with Icelandic grasses. Often overlooked in favor of mountains or coastlines, they became central to my work. Their color, variety, and movement under Iceland’s changing weather captivated me. I sought to capture their fleeting interplay of movement, light, and rhythm—translating it into something that evokes an emotional response.This body of work distills Iceland’s essence into images that prioritize feeling over form, inviting the viewer to sense, rather than see, its ever-changing beauty.

Gestural artwork, characterized by its dynamic brushstrokes and expressive forms, invites viewers into a dialogue with the artist's emotions. Each stroke is a testament to spontaneity, conveying movement and energy that transcends traditional representation .The energy of the different environments is palpable, how people group and ungroup together, creating energy between family and strangers while uniting in the shared moment.

My fascination with trees and the Spirit of them leads me to imagine trees in all kinds of places, times, situations. This beautiful Mother Tree looks after her nest while the golden light sets and the calm of dusk settles over her.

My work as an artist is to continuously investigate natural light through the craft of painting. Oil paint’s possibilities are boundless. I enjoy the deep and rich color of oil paint. In my current body of work, I am trying to be more spontaneous with my images. I strive to make the composition bold and the color right the first time, with less layering of paint. I am primarily a landscape painter, creating large scale landscapes that create a window to the natural world. My current work has evolved into a narrative. Still lifes have become interiors. Those interiors can have people in them. I am finding ways to explore my total surroundings. I spend time in Downeast Maine. There, I am drawn to the intense light and rugged coast. When my finished paintings create their own life, I have succeeded in helping the viewer evoke an emotional and intellectual response.

"I create my art - that I am sure will give the viewer a great experience – I contact my inner self when I work with my art, I am my art.”

My medium is mixed-media collage, utilizing printed ephemera as a kind of time machine. These materials with a history have fascinated me since childhood. They serve as the raw materials for my work. The bits and pieces have been stuck in the dark, and I get to uncover them like an archaeologist, combining them with other things to give them new life and unforeseen purpose. Physically, I cut and glue paper to various surfaces, including stretched canvas, Masonite or cradled wood panels. I work primarily in two main processes. The first is complex and detailed and involves mostly conscious thought to create visual meaning from a preconceived idea. The second is more subconscious and in the moment, purposely faster, abstract, and more visceral, halting my preconceived ideas before they take root. I explore universal themes such as consumerism, the beauty of the ordinary and human connection (or lack thereof). My work also points inward, allowing me to address my past through previously buried memories and emotions. I also bring true stories from my South Louisiana childhood to life to serve as both a form of visual storytelling and markers that validate my existence. My artwork is a means of communication. A two-way radio that speaks through time - past, present, and an imagined future. I am in constant communication with versions of myself, first and foremost, and I invite viewers to resonate with what I’ve created and glean their own personal meaning.

I am a multidisciplinary artist exploring mark-making to create works on paper using traditional sculpture-making tools and methodology. Tantric repetitive movements make the gesture. Each becomes a visual affirmation, provoking a physical experience with the work. From the discarded, I reveal the unseen, the residue left behind. I make my paper using materials I found in my life, such as my favorite jeans from the 1990s and discarded couches. I repurpose found objects - such as wood blocks - for my materials and allow their shapes and textures to form the parameters of each piece. My love for nature turned me into a sustainable artist. I am obsessed with her formal beauty and informed by her usefulness. I admire that everything is used to replicate and create through organic life cycles. I constantly play with replication, reiteration, and regeneration to create new forms and revitalize familiar ones.

Red Blanket Project is a collection of portrait paintings, drawings, text and audio depicting Canadian Armed forces Veterans and Active members whose lives are affected by post Traumatic Syndrome Disorder (PTSD). My project aims at exploring the journey of self-reconstruction and the resurgence of one’s unfettered human essence.

Sometimes I see my paintings and drawings as the consequence of being an only child and my practice as the continuation, by other means, of afternoons spent playing alone in my bedroom. That some of my works are based on toy models might be no coincidence. Through the years, I have also worked with photography, including Polaroid, and sculpture. Today I am only interested in painting and its, as I like to put it, conceptual counterpart, drawing. Whereas painting is more atmospheric, sometimes dirty, and can incorporate some disturbing elements (erasures, blurring), drawings are cleaner, more detailed, often accompanied by captions and shown as installation. Most of the source material for my paintings comes from newspaper and magazine cuttings, pictures taken from books, pictures I’ve taken and drawings of mine. I photocopy these several times, diminishing their definition, then figure out their places on the blank surface of the canvas. For smaller size work, I generally paint isolated figures. As for the bigger ones, the composition looks almost collage-like. I play with scale, creating unsettling scenes, moving among religious imagery, scraps of romantic landscape, toys, dolls, everyday objects, as if painting my way through the death of the work itself.

My work invites the viewer to pause and consider the world around us, to find interest in the overlooked and mundane. I inherited this passion for looking at the every day from my father, an avid amateur photographer. Inspired by his example and photographers like Andrei Kertész and Henri Cartier-Bresson, I developed a deep appreciation for the urban landscape and the power of the camera to capture it. My photographic work generally explores the tension between growth and decay, progress and impermanence. I capture fleeting moments of city lights at night, transforming them into ethereal streaks of color. I find poetry in the weathered textures of a crosswalk and the elegant simplicity of a lamppost and its shadow. My paintings extend this exploration, shifting the focus to the marks themselves. The canvas becomes a terrain for an evolving dialogue of form and color. It's more about the interplay of these marks and the balance they achieve than presenting recognizable objects. Each stroke responds to those that came before, creating a visual conversation. Influenced by a wabi-sabi aesthetic, this process embraces the unexpected and finds harmony in imperfection.

These works, from my Chaos Fields series, are mixed-media paintings which incorporate collage and new dimensional printing technologies. I use fragments of images-text, symbols, and patterns, which are silk-screen printed (using dimensional inks) and then collaged onto the work. The works are then painted (using primarily white to enhance the texture), producing a uniquely textured surface. Over this surface are printed digital images using new printing technologies, such as UV-cured printing. These allow me to print over the textured surfaces. I then go back in with more painting, collage, and printing, creating a subtle layering. I see the various printing technologies as new ways to apply paint. I think of these as sumptuous visual poems. The works are intimate, and they encourage looking. The painterly and textural elements entice the viewer to not only see, but to want to feel the artwork. They are collage-based mashups of diverse and competing styles. They incorporate aspects of Formalism, Pop, Collage, Visual Poetry, Dada, and more. Our perception is very fragmented. Our minds stitch the fragments together into a smoother view. Understanding this, I want to create mixed-media paintings that are not literal but suggestive. The more time one spends looking, the more they will see, and the more they will see how things are related. These works are not representations of the world; they are more representations of our minds wandering.

I am Elaine Rosenberg, operating as Elaine Dee Rose Art LLC, an artist focused on abstract painting and mixed media. My work combines textured papers, fabrics, and found objects gathered from everyday life and antique markets to create subtle low reliefs. I apply acrylic paint to bring expressive, intuitive gestures to life, enriching the pieces with vibrant color and texture. My practice is also influenced by techniques like water marbling, mono prints, encaustic wax, and fluid painting, which expand how I explore surface and form. My creative process is largely intuitive. Each piece develops spontaneously, with sketches used only when needed to guide balance and structure. I strive to create unified compositions where harmony, fluidity, and repetition come together seamlessly. This approach fuels my passion for producing dynamic and engaging work. Inspiration stems from the natural world and the music that inspires me. As a tactile artist, I cherish the textures of fibrous papers, rich fabrics, and the intriguing ephemera I collect. Each material is thoughtfully chosen and carefully arranged to build visually compelling compositions that invite viewers to pause and reflect. I welcome you to experience the interplay of color, texture, and movement in my art. Through my pieces, I seek to evoke emotion and connection, celebrating the beauty that surrounds us and enhancing our shared human experience.

Hulk on a rampage/ visions through me not by me/ for everyone

As a sculptor, when I see an organic form that surprises and delights me, my passion and goal is to capture its essence. Living in a small apartment in Manhattan makes me dream of walking through a forest, smelling the greens, seeing large blocks of soothing color and the shapes of leaves, branches, and trees. My solution is to bring nature to me by making organic forms. My recent, and third artist residency last summer in Chianti, Italy, surrounded by olive groves and vineyards, accelerated this idea of making sculptures about indigenous plants, which led to my current project, Leaves of Greve. My final abstract sculpture was a large Fig Leaf. I chose leaves as a symbol of social awareness because they are a clear indicator of climate change. Currently, climate change is speeding up the process of leaves changing colors, trapping their heat, and affecting local ecosystems. My work takes one leaf at a time and honors it, blowing it up to about four feet, altering the perspective on something we see every day. I work with dyed green wax, which is melted, cooled, carved, filed, sanded, and sometimes cast. The forms start as big wax balls before I whittle them down to my expectations. In the end, I create simple, minimal forms with multiple angles, which translate as words telling the story of this leaf collection. The viewer experiences a range of emotions as they observe each piece from different angles, often bringing out surprising interpretations, especially when they

My work reflects personal narratives and universal themes, blending elements that resonate with my own experiences while inviting viewers to connect with their own. Each piece begins as a reflection on moments or emotions from my life, but my goal is not to impose a fixed story. Instead, I aim to capture an essence—a feeling, atmosphere, or memory—that is open to interpretation, allowing others to see themselves within the imagery. Using a mix of graphic, figurative elements and abstract shapes, I balance precise, bold brushstrokes with intentional vagueness. My process often starts with reference images from online sources, magazines, or my photographs, which serve as springboards rather than destinations. Rather than creating a direct likeness, I translate these sources onto canvas or wood panels, reshaping them to convey a more ambiguous, emotional truth. At the heart of my work is a desire to distil each image down to its essential emotional core, revealing what lies beneath the surface. By combining defined forms with abstracted gestures, I create compositions that evoke a sense of introspection, memory, and the unseen facets of everyday moments. Titles may provide hints, suggesting pathways without dictating meaning. They work alongside the imagery, leading the viewer toward an interpretation while leaving space for individual reflection. In this way, my work seeks to evoke a shared connection, inviting viewers to bring their own stories & experiences to the piece.

My work is an inquiry of site, scope, and impact – a scribing of the intuitive human gesture in a social context. It is the medium of spectacle, generated from a rigorous studio practice based in drawing. The breadth of work ranges from archival to ephemeral, intimate to monumental. At the core it explores a collision of opposites – control and accident, nature and urban, public and private, object and moment – to strike a chord that rings true. Ultimately I aspire to create works of social resonance – not through narrative or commentary, but via dissonant mash-ups of context and content. It is aesthetic anarchy as cultural construct.

Rick Swanson fell in love with the wonders of shooting and developing black and white film in 1974. It's a passion he still pursues, nuanced by his use of coffee to develop his images onto the negative. Rick is a chemist and educator by background, and those influences also make their appearance in his photography. Rick's art is characterized not only by the thoughtful composition of his images but also by the experimentation of using non-traditional film developing techniques. Rick's work sits at the intersection of the fine art and craft traditions.

I like to dance on the line between representation and abstraction, and the natural world is my best teacher. Walking in the landscape, observing seasonal changes expands my relationship with a place, as well as my vocabulary of color, line and form. I enjoy close scrutiny of the inner workings and structure of the landscape. Along with the natural world, my influences range from medieval tapestries to northwest visionary Mark Tobey, and many others in between. The landscape informs my work, and I interpret it in an abstracted way, working to create a meditative image that invites the viewer to enter and wander.

She/Her: A bold and powerful testament to the strength inherent in womanhood. This sculptures stands tall, unyielding, with a texture that envelops her - a shield against the adversities that women face in the complexities of today’s world. Future Strength: This piece symbolizes the idea that even in the womb, the child begins to develop its own resilience, mirroring the struggles and strength of its mother in a world rife with inequality. "Future Strength" celebrates the unbreakable bond and shared fortitude between mother and child, highlighting the legacy of strength passed down through generations.

The drive in my artistic practice is to trace the dynamics of postcolonialism and uneven distribution of power as played out between humans and other agents such as animals, landscapes, machines, and networks. I often perform extensive research on records in national collections and digital archives, investigating forgotten and/or overlooked histories such as whaling in the 1920s in the British Overseas Territory of South Georgia and the South Sandwich Islands or the 1971 Attica prison riot (a historical event in prisoners’ rights movement in the United States). This archival research practice transforms into time-based works, including videos, installations, and printed books. Persistent methodologies include re-montage of lost or refound films, re-telling of ancient fables and rituals, and restaging of archival documents. Because of this, the “re-” of remembering and recirculating is a central focus of my work. In my tapestry works, which often pertain to the history of art and the politics of representation, textures, materials, colors, and figures become the primary concerns.

Art has always been my bridge—connecting people, ideas, and the unseen. I believe we each hold a piece of a larger, divine puzzle. Through art and meaningful connection, I’ve uncovered fragments of this greater design and aim to help others find their missing pieces too. Raised in a sculptor’s workshop, I learned early that life is not linear but deeply mysterious. Over time, I’ve followed invisible threads—linking moments, stories, and discoveries—into a cosmic tapestry of insight and possibility. My contemporary fine art explores energy, transformation, and the interconnectedness of all things. Themes of divine communication and shared human experience recur throughout my work. For me, art is not just expression—it’s a force for dialogue, reflection, and societal transformation. Each piece I create is both a meditation and a challenge—to reach deeper, connect further, and explore the profound power of creativity.

I approach photography not to capture a single, defining moment, but to construct layered narratives—stories built from dozens, sometimes hundreds, of images taken from shifting angles and moments in time. My photographic collages explore time, movement, and perspective, collapsing them into a single, multifaceted composition. Inspired by David Hockney’s 1980s Polaroid collages and the fragmented perspectives of Analytic Cubism, I embrace imperfection—allowing fragments to align, diverge, and overlap to create compositions that are both cohesive and fractured, impressionistic and dynamic. My collages can be experienced both as a singular composition, where form, color, and narrative structure tell one story from a distance—akin to a Cubist or Impressionist painting—but also as a layered exploration. As the viewer moves closer, the work reveals its intricacies—fractured details, shifts in time, and imperfect variations in perspective. What first appears as a unified image unfolds into a complex interplay of moments, each inviting deeper engagement. Rooted in my background as a filmmaker—where 24 still images per second create the illusion of movement—my process reverses that logic. Instead of sequencing frames over time, I collapse them into a single plane, allowing viewers to experience time, motion, and perspective simultaneously, rather than sequentially begging the question: Can a single photograph hold not just one moment, but many?

Animals help me understand and appreciate emotions that go beyond words. Swiss writer and philosopher Jean-Jacques Rousseau said, "Humans are born good, but society corrupts them." This reflection resonates deeply within me, especially when I apply it to the animal kingdom. Unlike humans, who often find themselves caught in the complexities of morality and social expectations, animals live in a natural cycle of survival. Their reactions and behaviors remain mostly pure and authentic, only varying when humans intervene. This unchanging essence attracts and inspires me to explore their worlds through my art. My fascination with the animal world comes not only from their outward beauty but also from the emotional depth they can convey. There is something intrinsic in their gaze and gesture that resonates within me. Capturing this connection through one of the noblest techniques, the pencil, brings me joy. With every stroke, I attempt to capture the form and the very essence of the animals I portray. Each detail is composed of infinite strokes that lack patterns. This absence of pattern reflects my experience in which the nature of relationships and emotions often cannot be confined to clear definitions. Through shading, I convey the figurative characteristics of animals and focus on communicating something deeper. I seek to express that feeling of not being able to decipher what draws one in. I believe this process of observation is fundamental to understanding animals as well a

My involvement in dance, martial arts and metaphysics inform my paintings with particular attention to space, color, texture, movement, and emotive gesture. My inspiration may come by way of a vision, a color, a word or phrase, music, choreography, a physical sensation, a memory or an emotion. Once the download has been internalized it may simmer for a short while or it may sit in silence for some time, gestating before it materializes. I remain in a fluid state of being, present to the directional impulse of the inspiration. I usually work on several pieces concurrently. The dialogue that transpires between the works in progress compels my subconscious to investigate how to best translate the spiritual vocabulary through artistic form. The scope of my visual language spans from the abstract to the representational, guided by the murmurs of inspiration.

The figures in my work are drawn from a collective memory, rooted in a mediated version of American history and iconography. Overlapping symbols, identities, and stories try to cohere but cannot hold. These subjects function as naive and absurd placeholders from an inherited past. I am interested in how these figures can lose their weight, and in doing so are released from history. The historical visual language of painting is utilized in contradictory ways. Figures and spaces are rendered, abstracted, and rendered again: structure versus gesture, form versus flatness, illusion versus materiality. This cycle continues until I’m satisfied that I’ve done both, and neither.

Inspired by my African heritage, I use fabrics to tell and weave together stories that link people of African descent across its diasporas. My artistic practice reimagines painting and drawing through textiles, using colored fabrics as my paint and stitching and thread work for drawing. I paint digital portraits, print them on fabrics, then add depth and texture with intricate machine embroidery. This approach transforms two-dimensional surfaces into tactile experiences, pushing material boundaries to expand the language of painting and drawing; embracing techniques often sidelined in Western fine art. Through my work, I spotlight intricate Black hairstyles, symbolizing the nuanced dynamics of strength versus vulnerability. For instance, Black hair looks tough on the outside but is easily susceptible to damage, my work explores seemingly contradictory themes such as extracting light from darkness, finding joy amid despair, and forming community from our individual quests. Each piece serves as a mirror, reflecting viewers’ own stories and inviting exploration of universal themes within the context of African history and contemporary experiences.

Throughout my life, I have been deeply drawn to the mysterious forces that shape human existence. This fascination forms the core of my artistic journey, expressed through drawings, paintings, sculptures, graphic prints, and a variety of other mediums. My art emerges from the circumstances and impressions that touch me on a personal, existential level. Through my work, I strive to transform these experiences into visual expressions that resonate universally, inviting others to find reflections of their own emotions and stories. To achieve this, I explore a wide range of techniques, styles, and materials, choosing each based on the essence of what I seek to convey. Sometimes this takes the form of a blend of realistic and surreal imagery, weaving together personal and universal symbols. At other times, I embrace abstraction or immerse myself in the playful exploration of color and texture. My creative process flows between moments of relaxed daydreaming—where clear inner visions guide my sketches and paintings—and spontaneous engagement with the canvas, allowing colors, forms, and textures to lead the way in a dynamic dialogue.

My paintings honor my refugee grandparents and parents who risked everything to offer future generations better opportunities. I have a complex family history of tragedy and triumph, which has instilled in me a sense of the fragile nature of life. I paint my ordinary daily life as vibrant, colorful, and patterned scenes to show gratitude for my existence. Most of my paintings are multi-paneled triptychs, alluding to the fact that my human experience certainly cannot fit neatly onto one canvas. I am a culturally mixed Uruguayan Korean Spanish American who grew up Catholic and is now raising Jewish children. As a child, I received many quizzical looks as individuals attempted to understand and piece together my varied, ethnic background. I recreate that same experience in my paintings by provoking the audience to find connections that pull the piece together.

Acrylic paint is my primary medium, often enhanced with thickening gels and modeling paste to build texture and depth. I forgo traditional brushes in favor of household tools like meat claws, tile trowels, asphalt rakes, and barbecue scrapers. This unconventional approach allows for unique mark-making techniques that define my style. I begin with layered colors applied by palette knives or trowels, then manipulate them with these tools to create a dynamic interplay of texture and color. By selectively removing partially dried paint, I reveal underlying layers, adding complexity and a raw edge. Techniques such as splattering and scraping introduce an element of spontaneity, balanced by a deliberate, swift pace that pushes me beyond my comfort zone. This process invites my subconscious to influence each piece, resulting in artworks that blend immediacy with meticulous craftsmanship.

Gratification is part of the Internal Views body of work. It is a mixed media piece that features a chemically distressed silver gelatin print and liquid photo emulsion printed directly on the painted canvas. The work symbolized the gratification of planning, putting in the work and being rewarded with the result.

I am a painter and a sculptor. These are usually included in the category "visual artist". This might lead one to believe they are closely related. But I have concluded after long experience with both that they are more like cousins who were born and grew up in different countries, speaking and thinking different languages. The difference can be confirmed by observing a cat, or a child. Show a cat a picture of a mouse and you will draw a blank. Give it something that looks remotely like a mouse, for instance an old sock stuffed with cotton, it will play with it as if it were a mouse, though it knows it is not. A young child will instinctively make a drawing given a piece of paper and a crayon, but will play with a sculpture (doll), and only try to make something out of a lump of clay if encouraged to do so. Consequently the expressive possibilities of each discipline are very different. That is the reason I have been drawn to make painting or sculpture at different times in my life: at different times I wanted to express that which could only be expressed in one or the other. A sculpture is an entity, a being, if you will, whether figurative or abstract. A painting is a drama, something is happening on the picture plane. (There can an area between, as in a relief sculpture or a portrait painting). I have come to making paintings in recent years because I want to express aspects of the drama that is life as it is lived now.

My artistic practice begins with listening and observation—of lines, emotions, and the tensions between what appears and what gradually reveals itself. Each work is a passage, a threshold between intuitive gesture and reflection on the visible and the unseen. I navigate the boundary between the physical and the digital, where matter meets code, and the memory of the hand-drawn line is reimagined through digital processes. My approach, which I call Digital Stain Immersion, is more than a technique—it is a way of inhabiting time through making. The image unfolds in successive immersions, like a surface absorbing, filtering, and reflecting back. My work explores themes of identity, perception, and consciousness, often inspired by thinkers such as Gilles Deleuze, for whom thought is a line in motion—a diagram that does not represent but acts. My images are transitional spaces, unstable constructions seeking a balance between order and chaos, structure and flow. My aim is not to explain, but to evoke—to offer viewers an open visual experience, where each fold of color, each trace of gesture, becomes an invitation to look inward, to question what we think we know, and to allow new meanings to emerge.

I sculpt because I love getting dirty. When I was seven, I spent hours after school digging a hole in my backyard to sit in. My hole had a seat, a shelf and a wooden top. I would sit with my flashlight in my created world to escape the world above. Creating drives me: turning raw materials into something new and beautiful. I began my sculptural journey as a child taking clay from the creek banks behind my house and making small animals and figures. Recently, I taught myself from books and the myriad resources available online. I was mentored by Eirik Arneson, a sculptor at the Florence Academy of Art through his patreon website. I have had training from several great American artists (Peter Rabin, Kevin Chambers, Alicia Ponzio, Thanasi Papapostolou, Adam Montano) including a longtime mentorship with Mardie Rees, a classical figure sculptor. Today, I am growing my body of work and stepping boldly into a more professional artist presence. I appreciate you taking the time to learn more about my journey and hope to see you along the way.

I am a visual artist and photographer in love with the sewing machine. Photography is at the heart of my artistic practice. It serves as the canvas for my mixed media works, where I combine photography, paint, and textile techniques. I love telling stories—stories of personal journeys, places of longing, and dreams. I explore questions of who we are beyond all norms, constraints, and expectations, and how we might want to express this. Mixed media helps me visualize these questions while leaving ample space for the viewer’s own narrative. Additionally, I enjoy surprising the audience. For example, you might discover a sewn rainbow on a Polaroid. What that means? I gladly leave that up to you to interpret. “Her works convey strength and remind us that life itself is magical.” This is how Caroline de Jastrzebiec, a French writer based in New York, recently described my art.

These recently completed paintings, though various sizes, all seek to portray metaphoric looks at various permutations of imagined yet tangible family dynamics and the tensions and conflicting natures they can evince.

Amidst humanity's diverse art techniques, from ancient fingerprints to modern digital innovation, Ebru stands uniquely distinctive. The concept of painting or drawing on water may seem unconventional, yet Ebru captivates us with its remarkable technique and the ensuing enchanting results While grounded in the foundations of tradition and utilizing time-honored techniques, my artistic pursuit treads the path of unorthodoxy. My fascination lies in the fluidity and motion that water embodies, seamlessly harmonizing with vibrant hues and infusing the composition with innate energy. Over the past decade, my quest has centered on crafting multidimensional rose forms devoid of controlled physical manipulation. They exist as abstract entities, inviting viewers to perceive them through a slightly pareidolic lens.

Ivana Damien George uses her creativity to raise consciousness about the interconnectedness of all living beings with the environment to encourage conservation and sustainable habitation on Earth. Her artistic influences are varied and include Baroque painting, Surrealism, Dada, the feminist art movement, performance practices, ancient goddess art and more. In her photography series, Glacial Waters series she traveled to Peru with a team of climate scientists to explore the loss of glaciers in inhabited (non-polar) regions of the world where the glaciers are part of the local hydrology. She gathered the glacial melt water in a spherical crystal vessel and photographed the reflected landscapes within it to express the glacial loss and the associated fresh water resource issues caused by a warming planet. In her Sustain photography series, she documents her attempt to live a sustainable lifestyle by growing an abundant organic fruit and vegetable garden in her small urban lot. The lighting style is inspired by Baroque painting genre to impart a sense of drama and emphasis on the produce. She uses color, lighting, framing and posing to creatively expresses the beauty, unique varieties, sustainability and deliciousness of the fruits and vegetables that can be grown in a small urban garden. The vintage styling references the WWII era victory garden movement, when Americans grew 60% of their produce in backyards and community gardens.

My work is driven by movement, energy, and unfolding events, rooted in gestural, intuitive expression. Even in quiet moments, tension simmers beneath the surface. While seemingly chaotic, an underlying order anchors my process. Organic forms shift and transform, revealing and obscuring figures within emotional landscapes and man-made structures. Though steeped in western painting traditions, I embrace a multidisciplinary approach, guided by material and meaning. Life’s shared genetic and evolutionary history deeply informs my work, reflecting themes of flux, transformation, and human estrangement from nature. Through graphic elements and shifting narratives, I explore the tension between our impact on the world and our place within it. My art invites viewers to experience life’s rhythms and possibilities, planting seeds of awareness and connection.

My work explores the complexities of personal identity, often juxtaposing cultural patterns with the female form or figures with concealed faces. These richly layered portraits challenge viewers, provoking thoughts on freedom, identity, and gender. My journey through life, from growing up in Iran, studying in Germany and working across various countries, has given me different perspectives and fuelled my creativity. Experiencing new cultures and societies has inspired me to investigate and reflect on my own identity. The patterns I incorporate into my art are influenced by the cultural motifs of the countries I have lived in. These patterns are not just symbols of identity; they metaphorically reveal the complexity of human-crafted culture and society, which at times imposes restrictions and pressure on individuals. The bare body confronting these patterns represents the natural harmony of a free individual who observes, adjusts, explores, and sometimes defies or even protests against such limitations. This individual seeks dialogue and connection. My preferred medium is oil and acrylic on linen. To create the final sketch for my paintings, I begin by conceptualising an idea and then bring it to life through a process of photographing and editing numerous shots of my subject. This process can take anywhere from days to years. I prefer to work on multiple paintings simultaneously as this approach allows me to explore different creative avenues.

In my work, I reject reality: I react to landscapes without delivering them. Often, distant tropics unfold within my memory as bursts of unreliable truth—not as documentation, but as inhabitation, in a story of return. Seeking a more rooted understanding of place, I reverse-engineer my architectural background, breaking down memories and landscapes into unruly geometries and organic shapes. I often work in abandoned spaces—sites of industrial archaeology—finding comfort in the end-of-life of buildings, and in nature taking back what was once hers. Through this lens, I explore the tension between the organic and the constructed. Perspective and structure often emerge—a latent architectural instinct—but are disguised, erased, or diverted. The lines that once imposed order are dismantled. I reject their dominance—not to eliminate structure, but to transform it into something that resists boundaries and invites complexity. Geometry becomes a tool of subversion, questioning the stability of the frameworks that shape our sense of place. The paintings are almost always asking a question, rather than providing a definitive answer - or even a minimally figurative description of a resolution. By subverting and constructing painted realms, I reimagine my identity within the wider collective history, in a fragile return to the uncolonised land and culture, inviting the viewer for a dialogue about resistance and healing, power and decay of established architectures and cultural realms.

I came of age in the late 1960’s, the time of Woodstock and social upheaval. I began high school during the time I jokingly called ‘ The Age of Industrial Underwear,’ tight girdles, stockings, heavy duty brassieres - and when I went to college it transitioned to a time of bralessness and bikini panties. In the 1950’s and well into the 1960’s we were taught that a “good girl” was to guard her virginity at all costs and ‘save’ herself for her future husband. During my freshman year at university the birth control pill became readily available and so …. All bets were off! I started photographing female nudes almost as a rebellion against the strict way in which I was brought up. Photographing male nudes came a few years later and was as much a political statement as an artistic one. As far as I know, at the age of 23, I was the first female photographer (maybe the first photographer, period!) to shoot erections in an artistic way and have them published in a national mainstream magazine. I shot predominantly black & white film and printed the negatives on Ilford high contrast paper. When shooting color, I used my beloved fine grained Kodakchrome 25. At present, I’m digitizing my film archives and printing the best of my nudes and erotic work.

My current work investigates the land and our relationship to it. With ideas of ancestry, natural resources, dominance, companionship and stewardship, I create POV sculptural experiences of the land. The land and our relationship to it cannot escape colonial pasts and capitalism. The land represents the roots of all the layers of complexity in our human experience. I work primarily in sculpture and drawing using materials that connect us back to the land, cardboard, paper mache, wood and paper.

I photograph nature, the environment, and the interactions of humans with them. I bring a novel vision to the world, the animals and plants in it, and to life in general. Recently, I have become interested in street and urban photography as well as nature photography. I aim to produce an emotional response in my imagery. While you might ask, “which emotion?” I leave that to the viewer. I have also been exploring the use of deliberately long exposures where the motion of parts of the image are blurred. This ghostly effect, where some people are mostly blurred while others are clear, gives the image a surreal feeling. I am highly influenced by Henri Cartier-Bresson’s philosophy of photography: capture the decisive moment and use the entire image with minimal photomanipulation. While I will restore color vibrancy and correct technical defects in my images, I aim to let the camera and not the software tell the story. Mind you, I'm not above a little photomanipulation when it makes the picture work. I have been an active photographer since my teens. Back then it was fun to experiment with different types of film and developer formulations, but today everything is electronic. I tend to be a “pixel pusher” who aims for sharp clear images. Being unobtrusive and having good wilderness skills is essential for my work. Wildlife photography takes a combination of luck, knowledge, skill, patience, and a whopping great lens.

As a photographer, I capture the raw emotions and energy of dance, especially flamenco. Born in Hungary and now living in Spain, my work is influenced by a blend of cultures. Flamenco, with its deep emotional roots, offers a rich field for my photography, while the architectural landscapes of Spain provide a compelling backdrop. Through my lens, I seek to connect these worlds, finding harmony in their contrasts. My work focuses on the lines created in the air by the movement of the body—each gesture and position forms a visual composition that tells a story of passion and expression. I am drawn to the fluidity of the human form in motion and the way it interacts with space, light, and shadow. In my dance photography, I preserve fleeting emotions, not just the steps or choreography. I focus on the raw intensity of the performance, the tension in every muscle, and the vulnerability of the dancer in that moment. I experiment with angles, exposure, and framing to create dynamic, powerful images that communicate both the physical and emotional landscape of dance. Another important aspect of my work is the integration of dance with architecture. I use the environment—often monumental and structured—to highlight the contrast between the human body and the built space. The architecture becomes a silent partner in the composition, adding layers of meaning and context to the dance. In this fusion, I explore how movement can reshape and reimagine the spaces around us.