Kaitlyn Synan

Year of birth: 2000.
Where do you live: The Catskills.
Your education: Bachelor of Science in Visual Art, Bachelor in Art History w/ minor in Psych. Both from SUNY Purchase.
Describe your art in three words: Intense, Introspective, Expressive.
Your discipline: Contemporary Acrylic Painting | Expressionism & Semi-Abstraction.
Website | Instagram

Your work explores the fleeting nature of human emotion. How do you translate these transient feelings into visual forms and colors?

I’d like to think that the universe gives small hints and guidance in the smallest ways, and you just have to be observant enough to notice them. As I notice them, they seem to have an intrinsic connection that unfolds and becomes clearer as I live through the experience. The way I express them in painting is just the combination of the scene and how I reacted mentally and physically to the experience.

Kaitlyn Synan | Connections

In your artist statement, you speak about finding light in darkness. Can you tell us more about the role of contrast and light in your work?

I love the intensity that contrast gives a piece or an object. I enjoy giving the smallest moments the loudest and most impactful voice possible, specifically through color. It’s a really interesting dichotomy of light and shadow, where something delicate or fleeting can carry immense presence just by how it’s illuminated. I think contrast isn’t just about visual impact—it’s about storytelling. Light reveals, but shadows give depth, and together, they create a tension that mirrors how we experience emotions, both physically and mentally. The way I use contrast is almost like a spotlight on the ephemeral, making sure those quiet, overlooked moments are seen and felt by the observer.

Each piece of yours seems to convey the beauty of impermanence. How do you approach creating something that celebrates something as ephemeral as emotion?

I choose to find joy in the small details of life. You can’t win the lottery every day, but you can count on the little moments—good and bad—to be there. I think it’s about choosing what to focus on. When you can navigate that with intention, you give the positive moments your attention and the difficult ones their space without letting them overshadow everything else. That’s how I approach my work—capturing fleeting emotions, making space for them, and honoring their impermanence rather than resisting it.

Kaitlyn Synan | Mycelial Spirit

You’ve mentioned that your work is a spiritual practice. How does your spiritual journey influence your creative process?

I’ve always been both a spiritual and artistic person—these have been my most natural outlets, my ways of coping and making sense of the world. They were practices I never grew tired of, always there for me, even in the hardest times. Over time, as I deepened my understanding of both separately—and as time went on, they started weaving together, like an intricate spiderweb of knowledge. That connection shaped how I see existence—just a speck on a rock, here momentarily, but able to create, feel, and experience. My art reflects that perspective—an appreciation for this awesome, temporary experience.

Your use of color and form seems deeply connected to the human experience. Do you draw from personal emotions and experiences when creating your pieces?

Oh, absolutely—I don’t think I could help it if I tried. I’m not sure any artist can. Everything we create is an expression of experience, whether it’s obvious or not. It’s all we have.

Kaitlyn Synan | Celestial Touch

How do you envision the relationship between your work and the viewer’s emotions, especially since you emphasize the transient nature of experiences?

I get a lot of different responses to my work, which I love. I intentionally keep things somewhat ambiguous and let the viewer bring their personal meaning to it. Sometimes, someone sees something entirely different than what I intended, and that’s one of the most interesting parts of the conversations I have about my work. Everyone interprets things in their own way, and it’s incredible to have a front-row seat to that process.

Which specific piece of yours do you feel most embodies the idea of ‘impermanence,’ and why?

I feel like my piece Luminal Growth represents this idea best. The bubbles remind me of a lava lamp—I stared at them as a kid, zoning into their movements. They never looked the same way twice and never stood still. The vines in the background carry a similar energy; you never see the same plant from day to day. Even if you don’t notice the changes as they happen, they’re always evolving. That quiet, constant transformation is at the heart of impermanence.