How do you speak the unspeakable? How do you express that which you cannot comprehend? How do you tell stories that are bone deep?

I paint.

After an extended struggle with dementia, my mother passed this fall. Her decline was rapid near the end, and in many ways, we had lost her already.

But when the time came, I was gutted.

Even when words failed my mother, art did not.
Together we spent many happy hours drawing.

My mother encouraged my creativity from my earliest years in NYC. Modern dance classes as a little one. I would skip around the gym barefoot in my new pink leotard, pretending to be animals. I roared and chirped with glee. Drama classes as a teen. I wrote and starred in a one-girl show. I remember playing quite a few different characters. Yay for young me!

She was the first person to buy one of my paintings (declaring that she should get a family discount). Thank you, my dearest mother.

I dance, I roar, I paint
I tell my story
Wander and look for your story

©2022 Alicia R Peterson. In process, acrylic on 36 x 18-inch canvas. Detail.

©2022 Alicia R Peterson. In process, acrylic on 30 x 15-inch canvas. Detail.

 
©2022 Alicia R Peterson. In process, acrylic on 36 x 36-inch linen. Detail.

©2022 Alicia R Peterson. In process, acrylic on triangle canvas. Detail.

©2022 Alicia R Peterson. In process, acrylic on 20-inch diameter convex circle.