By Nila Do Simon
Photography by Logan Rigg
How would you describe your artwork?
It’s spiritual experimentation in organized chaos through exploding bedtime stories.
How do most of these stories manifest themselves?
They manifest under the influence of myth, consciousness and the subconscious. I use colors to construct a world or background for a symbol—oftentimes, it’s a person or an animal. I like to collect natural materials, such as dead flowers, sticks, rocks and found objects, and the materials begin the storyline or guide the composition of a work. The characters or forms that I use are based on archetypes. I also use text; the power of words is important. Letters bring a visual texture that supplies balance and bring the eye back to something it’s familiar with. I love hidden messages and having to look a little closer. I push the pieces into a space that is somewhere between familiarity and the unknown. The beginning and end of my pieces manifest by just sitting down and creating. I tap into a rhythm, a sacred space between the piece and myself.
What’s been your most memorable work?
A painting called The Horses of Cockaigne. It began as a snake that was dark. I was using the piece as a way to release negativity. I had this moment where I poured water onto the painting and in a matter of minutes it became two horses. It transpired by accident, and it was a cathartic moment. I saw it as a living metaphor.
Which medium do you gravitate to most?
I follow the nature of the ideas. Some ideas are paintings, some are drawings, some carry more weight conceptually and they require more space and dimension so they become sculptures and installations. This month, I’m making small paintings, all 11 by 14 inches, and joining them together into blankets, like quilts. I plan to show these works in a solo exhibition called “Beds.” It will be a room full of beds made out of paintings, sounds and distilled essential oils.
What has been your proudest moment as an artist?
I’m proud every time people connect to the work. But I take a backseat in those moments; they’re rewarding, but I don’t see myself as a part of them. My intention is for the work to have a life of its own—it’s a force after all. I don’t navigate it with pride because it’s made in a place where hubris doesn’t exist.
I love hidden messages and having to look a little closer. I push the pieces into a space that is somewhere between familiarity and the unknown.
Where have you exhibited?
I have shown locally at Artists Haven Gallery, and I just recently helped put together a show at a warehouse space with a few other local artists—it was called “Holidaze.” When I lived in Los Angeles, I did the “Skulls” exhibit at Kat Von D’s Wonderland gallery and a show called “Ladyshark Week” at a space in Hollywood.
How did you get interested in art?
My father is an artist, and his passion for music and the arts rubbed off on me. He owned venues and nightclubs; it was an eccentric way to grow up. I met a lot of artists, and creativity was honored in our house. I’m grateful for that.
Which artists inspire you?
I like randomness, found objects, strong textures and anything that is shocking or makes me think. I want to be challenged as an observer. Lucien Shapiro—his work is intoxicating. Steve Sticht’s blue bikes are a favorite of mine, and I really like Johnny Robles. I’m inspired when I experience work that captures me entirely. As an observer, I’m looking to get lost.
What’s next?
This year, I’m planning to have a solo exhibition, with the location to be determined. I have an online store, kimkearney.bigcartel.com, where there are prints and original artworks, including large paintings, available for purchase. There is also my installations-turned-commission-based project called Medicine Wheels. They are a physical materialization of good intentions. These structures are produced through a ritual exercise that aims to heighten awareness of the heart-self. They are made of brown packing paper, personal items from the participants and dried natural materials. Each wheel is uniquely created for the individual and his or her intentions.
Originally appeared in the Premiere 2014 issue.
