I have been tracing this question for the last couple of years: How does the light get in? For me, it is a psychological inquiry as much as a literal one — a metaphor dancing between my perceptions of my reality, my embodiment in a physical, sun-revolving world, and my art-making. The thought lingers for me in spiritual, substantial, ephemeral, and existential ways. Light and dark — one polarity cannot exist without the other. Just as pain provides context for joy, darkness and light need one another for dimension. How do you tell the story of this mutual pair? What is its visual expression?

In this work, the darkness settles with shadowy depth, solemn in its mystery. It is verdant and lush, often sinking into indigo and inky greens. From it, solar reminders emerge with bright and electric vibrations. Sometimes just a flicker is enough to illuminate the shadows with levity and buoyancy. The energy is playful, lyrical; the gestures akin to dancing without choreography, without self-possession.

The liminal space between the light and dark captivates my creative attention and, in a way, my work becomes a quest toward the impossible: to portray through a composition, a space that exists on an edge. A space that is silky and formless, in transition, shape-shifting. The process of making work becomes a discovery, as if I’m looking closer, pulling light from the depths as my eyes adjust. The natural world informs me, it being the great teacher of transition and impermanence. I take many cues from botany…but as whiffs of color and fleeting brushstrokes that evade formal representation, pursuing instead an ethereal subtly.

This body of work is emotional and visceral. It is raw and vulnerable. It is close to me; a reflection of a personal journey into shadowy depths with a reach towards the deeds of light. It is a study of duality, a story of becoming, of growth, of transformation. As an artist, I am a humble messenger of a great task: an attempt to convey a unique psychological perspective through something shared and tangible. This is the fabric of humanity. There is a cyclical nature to dark and light; they are integral to each other and happening at the same time. We are all riding our own arcs of light and dark, in continuum. Our experience distinct, and yet, universal. 

Please inquire for exhibition catalog : studio@alainasullivan.com




Got My Sunshine
2023
Acrylic on linen  
19 x 25 x 2 in


















Awakening
2021
Acrylic on linen  
17 x 21 x 2 in

Even Boulders Turn Into Sand
2021
Acrylic on linen  
17 x 21 x 2 in

As the Moonlight Rises
2023
Acrylic on linen  
17 x 21 x 2 in

We Are the Only Ones Awake, I
2022
Acrylic on linen  
17 x 21 x 2 in 

We Are the Only Ones Awake, II
2022
Acrylic on linen  
17 x 21 x 2 in

We Are the Only Ones Awake, I, II

















How Do You Meet the Edge and Soften?
2022
Acrylic on linen  
19 x 25 x 2 in

Vernal Breath, I
2022
Acrylic on linen  
17 x 21 x 2 in

Vernal Breath, II  
2022
Acrylic on linen  
17 x 21 x 2 in

Vernal Breath, I, II

The Colors You Would Bring
2022
Acrylic on linen  
17 x 21 x 2 in















Vigil Light
2021
Acrylic on linen  
19 x 25 x 2 in

Details
Each painting in this collection is original to the artist and is finished with a custom, natural maple frame.

For more information about these works, or to inquire about the availability of a piece, please email studio@alainasullivan.com. 

‘How the Light Gets In’ was produced and photographed by Alaina at her apartment in Brooklyn, NY in February 2023.