I make vibrant impasto oil paintings in the spirit of post-impressionism. Like a puzzle or a machine, my paintings have tiny parts that are integral to the whole. My work is bold, disruptive, and methodical. Emotionally, I am inspired by societal change and collective experience, but thematically my work mimics the colors and rhythms of nature. I primarily use palette knives and a mosaic-like tiling technique, which I learned by studying the process of Parisian painter Mona Edulesco, and the legacy of Vincent Van Gogh. I thicken my paint with mediums like cold pressed wax and Liquin impasto. The textures I create remind me of the ocean, and of flower petals and fish scales and clam shells. This imagery and repetitious practices like sewing and beading have always soothed me and grounded me in a sense of order. Yet, I’m as moved by consistency as I am by disorder and change.

Growing up in and around New York City and having access to a diverse range of art has shaped me profoundly. Throughout my adolescence, art was a tool for managing OCD, panic disorder, and later depression and PTSD. My appreciation for graffiti, murals, and street fashion from an early age helped me cope with the violence, oppression, and poverty surrounding me. I was expeditiously exposed to society’s underbelly and became interested in how societies are structured, and how societies change.

When I began my Political Science degree at American University in Washington D.C., I was interested in studying American democracy as an institution, and understanding how systems of oppression have integrated themselves within it. I took studio art courses as electives and interned in the U.S. Senate, the U.S. House of Representatives and for Habitat for Humanity’s Government Relations team. The more I learned about America’s political systems, the further I wanted to be from them.

I dream of new political systems with new philosophies behind them. When I graduated in 2020 into a global pandemic, George Floyd was murdered and Black Lives Matter took to the streets, so I joined them. I protested and painted my way through the most transformative, uncertain moments of my life, and realized that I could not ignore my identity as an artist anymore. I am both an artist and an advocate, and these identities are intrinsically intertwined. I believe artistic movements often parallel philosophical movements because art is a vehicle for expanding perspective in the collective consciousness. I am passionate about progress and the power and purpose art has within society.

I incorporate raw, expressive brush strokes in my paintings to honor the power and vulnerability of disruption. I believe artists like John Coltrane, Alexander McQueen and Walt Whitman incorporate the same patterns of movement and change in their work that I incorporate in mine. The relationship between philosophy and artistic expression fascinates me, and leads me to question the role art plays in society, and more specifically the role it plays in societal change. Does art lead to more progress? Does progress lead to more art? By answering these questions, I make a better case for arts education and arts advocacy.

In 2021, I moved back to New York City and taught art in the Brooklyn projects for two nonprofits, The New York Edge and Brooklyn College Community Partnership. This work felt far more authentic and meaningful than any work I did in D.C., but still, I hit many road blocks. A third of my student population was experiencing homelessness. Even with nonprofit support, art funding was abysmal. When I accepted a lead teaching role at a public charter school that promised more funding to the same communities, I found that art was still at the bottom of the priority list. As quickly as I saw art change the minds of my students, my classes were shortened and replaced by standardized test preparation. Art is seen as a privilege, not a requirement, despite the research that supports art as a vital component of social and emotional growth. The most vulnerable children and adults alike are left to their own devices to process the disparity they are experiencing. This chapter of my journey simultaneously burnt me out and convinced me arts advocacy was worth fighting for.

When I paint, I trust my intuition and visual instinct for balance and compelling composition. I moved to San Diego in 2023 because I wanted to live somewhere with more state funding for the arts and more accessible community-based art spaces, and because I want to go back to school and bridge the gap between my background in Political Theory and my identity as an artist. While New York City remains an integral part of my identity, the transient, exclusive nature of its art community never felt like home to me. I’ve found more like-minded artists and academics in Southern California, and I’ve spent the past two years teaching art through Monart School of the Arts and the Old Globe Theater’s Arts Engagement team. I am captivated by the beauty of this part of the country, and the mindset of its artists. I feel inexplicably certain that my work as both an artist and an advocate continues here, and I look forward to learning from the artists who precede me, and giving back to a community that has embraced and nourished me.

To contact me for commission or any other inquiries, please email me at KaylaBowman98@gmail.com or reach out through instagram DM at @KaylaBowmanArt.