Art is shaped by memory—both the ones lived and the ones inherited. For Sophia Garcia, painting is a layered process, much like the identity it seeks to capture. The vibrant depth of Brazil, the intimate weight of personal history, and the act of looking back to move forward all inform the work. Whether through transparency in oil painting or the quiet presence of hidden details, there is a sense of searching—of piecing together the past and present to create something whole. Each piece carries an echo of place and experience, blending contemporary imagery with cultural lineage, allowing meaning to unfold slowly, like uncovering a story within a story.

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How has your upbringing or cultural heritage shaped the themes and techniques you explore in your art today?

Moving to Brazil had a huge impact on who I am today, and it’s something that still shapes my work. I grew up in a family from another country, and that gave me a unique perspective on life when we evidently moved to Brazil. The culture, the people, the community—it all became part of me. My work is heavily influenced by my experiences there, especially my childhood with my grandmother, and the lasting impact it had on me. Growing up in Brazil, I got to see both the beauty of life there and the complexities and challenges many people face. It’s this mix of beauty and struggle that shows up a lot in my art This duality—the contrast between joy and hardship—is something I explore often in my pieces. I use vibrant colors and contemporary imagery to capture that sense of both celebration and difficulty. Brazil is a place full of life, but also filled with tensions, which I think is part of what makes the culture so interesting and complex. My goal is to convey that complexity in my work. I like to blend traditional techniques with a more transparent approach to oil painting. I enjoy creating layers in my pieces that invite discovery, almost like peeling back layers of stories and culture. Just as my Brazilian heritage influences my life in subtle ways, I want my work to reflect that in a quiet, nuanced way. I want the small details, the little hidden moments, to shine through in my pieces, creating depth and adding meaning. There’s a kind of beauty in the things that aren’t immediately visible, and that’s something I try to reflect in my art. It’s not always obvious, but those details are important—they represent the quiet pieces of my identity that shape who I am today. The experience of moving to Brazil, especially at a young age, has shaped me as an artist in ways that feel present in my work—whether I’m fully conscious of it or not. My time there has become an essential part of my creative process, and it informs how I approach my art. I take something deeply personal, something that’s rooted in my background, and transform it into something that feels universal—an exploration of identity, belonging, and the connection we have to the places that shape us. 

Do you have any rituals or habits that help you enter a creative state of flow?

I definitely have a few rituals that help me enter a creative state of flow, and music is one of the biggest ones. I always try to listen to music that resonates with the feeling or theme of the piece I’m working on. If the painting has a melancholic tone or emotional depth, I often listen to music from my childhood—songs that carry me back to certain memories or emotions. The nostalgia helps me tap into a reflective, more introspective headspace. When I’m working on something that’s inspired by a person in my life, I like to listen to the music they listen to. It’s a way of connecting with them on a deeper level and understanding their energy while I’m painting. It’s less about mimicking their taste, and more about creating a connection to the emotions that shape them. Music helps me align my own feelings with the essence of the person or moment I’m trying to capture. Alongside music, I also spend time looking at art inspirations before I start painting. I’ll usually browse through my favorite artists’ works, or explore new artists that inspire me. This helps me get into the right creative mindset and sparks new ideas. Sometimes, I’ll look at pieces that are completely unrelated to what I’m about to create, just to let my mind wander and make unexpected connections. I find that seeing other people’s work often gives me a fresh perspective, which helps me approach my own painting with more excitement and clarity. Getting into the mindset of the piece is key for me. I want to feel like I’m living within the emotional space of the work I’m creating. Music helps me set that tone, and looking at art that speaks to me gets my creative juices flowing.

How has your artistic style transformed over the years? Are there specific influences, experiments, or moments that marked a turning point? 

Finding my artistic style is a journey that took longer than I expected, especially for someone who's been creating art for most of their life. Looking back, I can see that my practice was a series of experiments and shifts, but I didn’t truly find my style until my last couple of semesters in school. It was during that time that I was finally able to tap into my own personal narrative and connect deeply with my own mindset. I began to understand how I could express my thoughts and experiences in a way that felt authentic, and from there, my style started to emerge more clearly. Before that turning point in school, I felt like I was still figuring out what my work was about. I was always exploring different techniques and styles, trying to understand what resonated with me and how I could express myself. I experimented with various mediums, but nothing ever fully clicked until I started thinking about my work through the lens of my personal story in oil painting. In those final semesters, I had the space to reflect on my background/culture and what I wanted to communicate through my art, and that made all the difference. A key moment in this transformation was when I began to integrate my personal experiences and cultural influences more directly into my work. I started to recognize that my heritage, particularly my time growing up in Brazil, was a huge part of who I am as an artist. I leaned into that by combining bright colours, vibrant imagery, and themes that reflected both the beauty and complexity of my experiences there. It was during this time that I truly felt like my work had a deeper purpose beyond just technique or experimentation—it became a way for me to communicate the richness of my life and how it shaped my perspective. Along the way, I encountered artists whose work deeply resonated with me and influenced my development. One artist who had a major impact on me is Jon Macgregor. His use of colour and the way he incorporates animals in his paintings struck a chord with me. There’s something about his work that feels both visceral and symbolic, and I found myself drawn to the energy of his use of colour. It helped me understand how to use colour not just for aesthetic purposes but as a way to convey emotion, depth, and meaning in my own work. Another significant influence has been artists like Anthony Cudahy and Salman Toor, especially in how they portray transparency in their pieces. Their use of translucent layers and the fluidity in their work opened my eyes to new ways of layering paint and creating depth, something I hadn’t fully explored before. I started experimenting with transparent layers in my own oil paintings, and that technique became a crucial element of my style. It allowed me to add complexity and subtlety to my pieces, creating work that invited the viewer to look deeper and find new things upon closer inspection. The idea of transparency, not only in the physical sense but also as a metaphor for the layers of identity and emotion became a central theme in my work.

Do academic institutions still play a vital role in shaping artists today, or has self-taught creativity disrupted this tradition?

Academic institutions 100% still play a really important role in shaping artists today. For me, going to art school was super valuable—it gave me the foundation I needed to get to where I am now. It wasn't just about learning how to make art; it was about understanding what it means to be an artist and how to build on my skills in a way that feels intentional. Art school pushed me to grow in ways I didn’t expect and gave me the structure I needed to become more confident in my practice. If I hadn’t gone to school, I never would’ve had the chance to experiment with ceramics or oil painting, which have become such crucial parts of my work now. One of the best things about school was the chance to see and learn from so many different types of artists. I was surrounded by people working in sculpture, photography, printmaking, and more. It was inspiring to see how different approaches and techniques came together, and it made me think about my own work in new ways. Being exposed to all those different mediums helped me connect the dots between them and see how one can influence the other. I really believe that kind of environment helped me grow as an artist and gave me a more well-rounded perspective on creativity. School also taught me a lot about the technical side of art-making. I learned the right tools to use, the best techniques to apply, and how to properly handle materials to make my work stronger. For example, with oil painting, I learned about the importance of layering and transparency, which made my pieces feel deeper and more intentional. Working with ceramics taught me patience—because it’s all about taking your time and trusting the process. These are things I wouldn’t have necessarily figured out on my own, and they’ve been huge in how I approach my work now. Getting to work with professors and receiving critiques from my peers helped me push my ideas further. Sometimes it was hard to hear the critiques, but it always made my work better. That kind of mentorship was invaluable because it helped me get out of my comfort zone and try things I wouldn’t have considered on my own. Without it, I think my work would’ve stayed stuck at a certain point.

That said, I also see the value in self-taught creativity. Not everyone has the chance to go to school. Luckily, with the internet, we’re able to learn and create on our own terms. You can find so many tutorials and courses online, and platforms like Instagram and YouTube are full of artists who share their processes. There’s a lot of freedom in that. Self-taught artists often have the opportunity to experiment without limitations, and that can lead to some really raw, authentic work. Ultimately, I think both paths have their own strengths. Academic institutions give you the structure, technical knowledge, and community that can help shape your practice. However self-taught artists bring their own unique energy and freedom to their work, which is equally valuable. I think today, a lot of artists blend both worlds—they take the foundation from their education and mix it with the independence of learning on their own. It’s a balance that allows for personal growth and creativity, which is what makes the art world so exciting right now.

How do you measure the impact of your work—by its reception, its personal meaning, or something else?

For me, I measure the impact of my work primarily by its personal meaning. Art is incredibly subjective, and everyone interprets it in their own way. I don’t take criticism too seriously because I know that everyone’s entitled to their own opinions. People will always see things differently based on their experiences, and I respect that. In the end, what matters most to me is whether my work feels true to the message I’m trying to convey. That said, I do recognize the value of feedback from others, especially when it comes from my peers or mentors. When I was in school, the feedback I received from fellow artists was really important. My classmates and professors were always honest about what was working and what wasn’t, and I learned a lot from those moments. There were times when I thought I was happy with a piece, only to have someone point out an area that needed more clarity or depth. It was tough to hear sometimes, but that honesty helped me grow. I appreciate that people around me were able to give constructive criticism without holding back, because that’s how I was able to push myself further. They didn’t just tell me what I wanted to hear—they helped me see what needed to change in order to make my work stronger.

Even though I might not always agree with every piece of feedback, I find it valuable because it opens up different ways of looking at my work. However, at the end of the day, I believe that if I feel a piece of art communicates a message or tells a story that resonates with me, then that’s what defines its success. It’s about whether I can look at my work and feel like it represents something important, something I believe in. If I can see a clear narrative or feel that the piece has emotional weight, then I know it’s working in the way I intended, regardless of how others may interpret it. Of course, I’m always open to hearing how others respond to my work, and it’s interesting to hear different perspectives. But for me, the most important thing is staying true to the narrative I’m trying to tell. If I feel the work has meaning, that it says something to me and communicates my vision, then I consider it successful. The feedback and different opinions I receive are just part of the larger conversation—helping me refine and improve, but not the sole measure of success.

Can you pinpoint a single moment in your life when you realized art was not just a passion but your purpose?

There was a moment in my life that wasn’t related to school or even to my own art where I realized art was not just a passion, but my purpose. It was a Christmas gift that my mom had received: a drawing of my grandfather, who had passed away months before. It was a portrait, capturing him in a way that I had never seen before. The artist had brought him to life on paper, and there was something so moving about the way the drawing conveyed not just his physical features but a certain essence of who he was. Her reaction when she received and opened the piece really made something click for me. At that moment, I understood that art is more than just a form of expression—it’s a powerful tool for capturing emotion and memory. What struck me was how this piece of art transcended just being a representation of someone who had passed away. It became a vessel for the feelings my mom had towards my grandfather, a way for her to connect with him once again. It was then that I realized the true power of art—that it could convey feelings, memories, and stories in ways that words sometimes couldn’t. The artist wasn’t just creating a likeness of my grandfather; they were capturing an emotional moment, the essence of who he was, and the impact he had on my mother’s life. When my mom received that drawing, it was like a piece of the past was being brought back to life, allowing her to relive memories of my grandfather that she had carried with her.

This experience made me take art more seriously. It was no longer just a hobby or something I did for fun—it became something much more significant. This is where I began to understand that art was about technique and the stories that are being portrayed in it. This moment is when I chose to use my desire to make art to tell my own story and honor the people who shaped who I am. I wanted to create work that was unique to my own experiences in any shape or form. I began to think about how I could use art to preserve the relationships and moments that meant the most to me, much like that drawing had done for my mother. It became clear that art was my way of telling stories that mattered—not just my own, but the stories of those who had come before me, whose legacies were woven into the fabric of my life.

Have you considered teaching your artistic skills to others? What excites or challenges you about that?

I’ve considered teaching as part of my artistic practice, and it’s something I’m really passionate about. For me, creating art has always been more than just making something—it’s about sharing the experience and helping others tap into their own creativity. I love the idea of guiding someone through the process as they discover what they love about art and how they express themselves. Watching their work evolve and seeing how it impacts them is honestly one of the most rewarding things I can imagine. It’s something I’d love to continue doing for years to come. What excites me the most is seeing someone’s confidence grow. There’s something really special about watching someone go from feeling unsure about their work to becoming genuinely proud of it. That transformation is powerful, and it really resonates with me personally. I think we all go through periods of self-doubt, especially when we’re learning something new. I remember when I was starting out and feeling insecure about my own work, I faced a lot of challenges while learning, and I still do, but those struggles made me who I am as an artist. I can relate to that feeling of doubt, and helping others overcome that is something I find really meaningful.

One thing I’ve learned is that everyone learns differently. Some people need a lot of direction, while others just want to explore and experiment on their own. Finding the right approach for each individual can be tricky, but that’s also what makes teaching so rewarding. It’s about figuring out how each person learns best and adjusting accordingly. There’s no one-size-fits-all method, and part of the challenge is understanding that and being flexible with how you teach. I also think there’s so much power in art to connect people. Whether it’s in a classroom setting or just chatting with fellow artists, art has this unique ability to bring people together. That’s something I really want to be a part of throughout my career. I’m not just interested in teaching in a formal classroom—I’d love to help others find their creative voice in any setting, even just through casual conversations or sharing ideas with peers. For me, it’s all about helping others discover what makes them passionate about art and giving them the tools to express that. I want to be part of that journey, whether I’m leading a class or simply having a conversation about creative processes. It’s the kind of work that feels truly fulfilling, and it’s something I hope to continue doing throughout my life.

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For Sophia Garcia, the act of creating is tied to both personal reflection and a wider dialogue with culture, identity, and transformation. Through vibrant colors, layered transparency, and the quiet power of detail, each piece becomes a space where the past and present meet. Growth is not about arriving at a final destination but about embracing change, expanding perspectives, and allowing the work to take on new meanings over time.