Hello friend, welcome to my studio!

I’m a painter, educator, & dreamer living and working in Los Angeles, California. I make art for brave souls, kindred spirits, and everyone who speaks the language of flowers.

I knew I wanted to be an artist from early childhood, never wavering on the dream except for in the third grade when I briefly wanted to be a marine biologist (actually mermaid, but pragmatic eight year old me thought this was a solid compromise).

I’ve always been in love with painting. But like many artists, I was plagued by perfectionism and deeply afraid of failing. So through much of adolescence and young adulthood, I found myself working in other creative professions that felt less risky and also less interesting to me. 

Thankfully I eventually realized that the only true failure on this path would be never painting at all – so I gave myself permission to be bad at it and got to work.

Many years of practice and study and hundreds of paintings later, I am so deeply grateful to my younger self for taking that leap. I found my voice as an artist through doing that work. Through daily, disciplined commitment to the craft. Through a thousand sketches and quick studies that no one ever saw. In still lifes and landscapes and faces and flowers, my style as a painter began to emerge. The way my brush moves the paint. The colors I put together. The way I see light.

Original oil painting by Jess Currier, created with archival quality oils on canvas.

I painted because it made me feel alive. Which is complicated, as you probably know. Because living is complicated and often painful. It’s a brave thing, to choose to be alive.

I use flowers in my work to represent this relationship with living. The beauty and the pain. The longing and the loss. Flowers hold all of that meaning. We turn to flowers in our moments of greatest joy and deepest grief. We place them on altars. We lay them at graves. They are seasonal and transient. Tiny, fleeting miracles. Beauty that we cannot keep.

My paintings are invitations to cling to hope. To remain awake to the entangled paradox of suffering and beauty that comes with being human. To bravely rebel against despair. To be reminded that there are always flowers, for those who choose to see them.