Today we’d like to introduce you to Jenna Sulser.
Hi Jenna, thanks for sharing your story with us. To start, maybe you can tell our readers some of your backstory.
I’ve always been drawn to living just beyond the invisible lines—dancing between the worlds of what’s seen and what’s felt, what’s said and what’s understood. I’m endlessly curious about the hidden patterns tucked inside ordinary moments—the colors that appear when the light shifts, the way the air changes when certain feelings move through a moment, and how silence seems to say the most when I remember how to listen.
Creating has always been my chosen form of communication. However, for a long time, words and I struggled. They felt slippery—never quite able to hold what I meant to say. Painting became the way I could honor what I couldn’t yet name—how I could capture a moment’s essence, releasing it without truly losing it. Each painting became a small act of translation, a way to slow time and remember what it felt like to feel.
Eventually, I learned to work with the words that once ran wild inside my head. I began gathering them in handfuls, writing them down, and noticing their weight shift as I played with the different ways I could arrange them. I did this until they sounded like the feeling I was trying to not only name, but to tell the story of—in an attempt to bring what I once felt back to life.
Through that process—of creating, reflecting, and learning to live a life that felt like my own—I began to build a world for myself. If you tried to find this world of mine on a map it would fall in the space between certainty and clarity, where form and feeling are allowed to shift; where falling is part of learning to stand; where beginning again is its own art form and always celebrated. A world where life is lived in chapters. Each painting, story, and melody became a doorway into that world—an invitation to wonder, to connect, and to remember what often felt somehow brand new and like a forgotten memory all at once.
Visual and written storytelling taught me how to listen, how to see, and how to love this life I am living—My work is a tribute to language in all its forms—to the stories that made me, the thresholds I’ve crossed, and the people who helped me along the way—the ones who offered me the space to feel, allowing me to find what I needed in order to tell my stories.
At its heart, my journey has always been about creating portals of connection—spaces where I felt seen, safe to explore, and free to rediscover my voice–over and over again. Seeing these stories take form now feels like the closest thing I have ever had to a purpose—a way to offer a doorway into a world where others traveling with a map led by curiosity can fall into, just as I did, into a place where they can hear others stories and maybe even find their own.
Each piece I create is both a map of where I’ve been and an offering to whoever finds it—meant to help them discover their own unique magic, the kind that is waiting to be found in everyday moments, in fleeting thoughts of wonder, and even in the absence of light.
Alright, so let’s dig a little deeper into the story – has it been an easy path overall and if not, what were the challenges you’ve had to overcome?
No absolutely not—It hasn’t been a smooth road. I’ve struggled with things like finding and keeping my motivation, or trusting that I can do something I have never done before simply because I believe I am capable, and believing that my ideas were worthy of being brought to life. There were countless moments when I’d see others doing work that resembled what I dreamed of creating, and I’d feel both seen and discouraged at the same time—grateful to know that others seemingly saw and experienced the world through a lens similar to mine, yet at the same time was left wondering, if they’re already doing it, why should I?
What I’ve learned to truly grasp is that value doesn’t come from comparison—value comes from authenticity. My work doesn’t need to be the only of it’s kind to have a place in this world—it just needs to be mine.
Falling in love with my own process changed everything. I began to see that creating itself is the point—I began to see the beauty in my own curiosity and how I interpreted the world around me at different times and in different stages.
Each piece I make becomes a way to meet myself again and again. And in doing so, I no longer question the value of what I create, because what I create is an extension of me.
Thanks – so what else should our readers know about your work and what you’re currently focused on?
My work lives at the intersection of visual and written storytelling. I’m a painter and writer exploring the relationship between emotion, memory, and transformation. Through both mediums, I seek to translate what can’t always be said directly—the feeling beyond a name, the beauty found in both the light and the shadows.
My paintings use layered color and texture to mirror those emotions I am trying to capture as part of a moment, turning feelings into form—sometimes as characters, sometimes as shapes or colors I can hold. My writing—poetic reflections, fables, and mythic narratives—extends those same emotions into language, exploring themes of love, loss, identity, and growth.
People often describe my work as both grounding and otherworldly—a bridge between the seen and the felt. I think that’s because I’m less interested in capturing what something looks like and more focused on translating what it feels like, taking into consideration my own experiences and those shared with me through the stories of others I collect along the way. I create through honesty, turning experience into shared language, and reminding others that there is meaning—even beauty—in the spaces where light is hard to find.
I’m known for creating work that feels deeply personal yet universally resonant. My art invites people to pause, reflect, and recognize pieces of themselves within what I write or paint. Each piece begins as something intimate but expands into something shared—a mirror where others can see themselves, too.
What sets my work apart is that it’s entirely my own—created with authenticity, honesty, and heart. Each piece holds a part of me that I choose to share with the world. My work is shaped by a lens that craves connection—a desire to speak, through image or word, in a language another might understand.
My intention isn’t to lead or persuade others toward my path or suggest that my way is the right way for anyone other than me. Instead, I see what I create as a doorway to possibility—for those searching for their own way. My work isn’t about producing art for art’s sake; it’s about creating spaces of recognition and reflection. Spaces that invite people to pause, to feel, and to listen for that quiet voice within themselves—the one that often knows more than it yet has the words to say.
Where we are in life is often partly because of others. Who/what else deserves credit for how your story turned out?
So much of what I’ve been able to create has been possible because of the people who’ve believed in me, challenged me, and stood beside me through every chapter of this journey.
First and foremost, I owe deep gratitude to David Myers, who owns the gallery that has become a second home for my work. He gave me space to connect with others, share my art, and grow as both an artist and a person. From the beginning, he has believed in me—even when I was still learning to believe in myself.
My grandma, Nancy, has been my loudest and most constant supporter for as long as I can remember. Her love is unwavering, her belief in me unshakable—and she celebrates every small win as if it were her own.
I’m also endlessly thankful for my family, who let me be fully myself and love me through every chapter. They hang on for dear life as I take them along on this wild ride, and their unconditional love keeps me grounded.
And to my friends—the ones who’ve anchored me when I’ve drifted too far down a rabbit hole, who let me spam them with drafts and progress photos, who never let me sit alone at an event where my work is on display—you have been my mirrors, my muses, and my safe place to land.
Together, they’ve helped me build a world where art and connection exist in harmony. By accepting me as I am, they’ve let the world I’ve been creating spill into theirs—and what’s come from that shared space is something truly beautiful.
Contact Info:
- Website: https://www.davidmyersart.com/original-art
- Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/jenna.sulser_art
