About
I am an artist and undergraduate student at UC Santa Barbara. My artmaking is guided by a desire to make beautiful the things that disgust me, cope with the impermanence of emotional eras, seek magic in every facet of life, and breathe color into dark spaces. In my work, I grapple with a tension between my desire to be vulnerable in harmony with the collective energy of the world, and my love of holding onto mystery and secrecy. I force myself through shame and embarrassment, trying to meditate on the humor and emotional tenderness of this process.
I am fascinated by feeling so in awe of something that it overpowers conscious thought and allows an unmediated emotional experience. I explore the channels through which we can achieve this spiritual clarity, mostly through the intimacy of interpersonal relationships or by being grounded in external or sensory experiences beyond my control. In these moments, there is a pure connection with the energy of our environments. I find myself repeatedly expressing these ideas through visual motifs of fluidity, vivid color, and branching lines that seem to reach toward a greater knowledge. I am fascinated with life-delivering tendrils, chords, vines, and veins, and have an intrigue in the gross beauty of morbidity and bodily mechanics, as well as the afterlife and how we may be reabsorbed into the earth, both physically and spiritually. Sometimes glimpses into these mysteries come in the most mundane moments when we are unguarded from our own feelings.
Out of Oil, 2026, oil on canvas, 18" x 24" each
This triptych is a reflection on the exhaustion of trying to become an adult, and the loneliness that comes with it
Though I enjoy cooking, the kitchen is also a place in which I meditate on my sadness. Coming home from work late at night after a long week of school, I still must cook dinner but discover that we've run out of olive oil. After a week of grocery stalemate with my roommates, I catch a ride to the store, and I splurge on the large glass bottle of oil. Walking down the sidewalk cradling double-bagged groceries, my precious bottle of oil tumbles and shatters, spilling my hope all over the pavement
This memory is of a time when self-care just felt like another chore. In moments when a million minor inconveniences pile into a heaping mass of despair, I still just roll up my sleeves, chop it up and eat it for dinner. Sweating, aching, and defeated, I have to laugh at the thought that even as a child, my pretend play was standing over a stove in the dark with bare feet, frizzy hair, and dark circles under my eyes. Some things never change...
(Maiden Name) Triptych, 2026, acrylic on panel and found object, 78"x50"
These portraits of my grandmother, my mother, and myself are inspired by a dream my grandmother had after moving in with us and being stunned by how many houseplants my mother had collected. In her nightmare, the plants grew out of control and trapped her in their vines.
Our cohabitation was not always completely harmonious, as we were all equally stubborn and firm in our individuality. The fact that we loved each other enough to care for each other even when we were frustrated, scared, or had to make sacrifices was the root of our conflict, so I still hold this as a beautiful phase of my life.
In my artmaking, my struggles to understand the implications of womanhood, and in any act of resistance to the forces of this world that try to dampen my joy and ambition, I feel these women as one with my spirit. Through each generation we still struggle to break from the same restraints, but an ever-burning light of love continues to fuel us. We may not share a surname, but the bond of mothers making strong daughters does not need mere language to be understood.
Petula Jamieson
559-706-1790
pj@petulajamieson.com