Is art integral to the human experience? The passion of Alyia Carlson ’26 bleeds through the lines of the frescoes she paints. When I observe her work, I notice how it becomes an extension of her being. Her color holds a vitality that Alyia shares in her personality. Having felt a certain amount of dispassion with my recent pieces, I knew I needed to interview Alyia to reignite my spark.
Alyia began painting when she was young, “I’ve always been artistically inclined. I just remember drawing when my grandma was my guardian. She would be in the hospital quite often, and I would just draw while I was there. At some point, my grandpa told me to put art aside and that I needed to focus on school.”
Alyia still tried to continue art, but it wasn’t easy. “In high school, I became such a perfectionist, to the point where if it didn’t look realistic then I considered it not real art. I got so angry, and my grandpa’s voice in my head made me focus solely on school. So I completely stopped doing art in my freshman year of high school. Coming into Swarthmore, I had a really, really awful first year. It was tough to acclimate. I was working way more than I probably should have been, and I needed a break. So, I figured ‘Why not take a painting class in my second semester?’”
I met Alyia in the second semester of our first year. She was sitting in Willets lounge, selling clothes — successfully, might I add. Alyia was leaving Swarthmore, and I recall her mentioning that she might not return for a while. I knew it was health related, but until our interview, I didn’t realize it was near death.
“That experience made me reflect on what art meant to me, who I am as a person, and where I want to be in the future. It made me realize that I have a life that I’m living. Because I think sometimes you can get away with waking up and doing your day-to-day things without realizing time is passing. But yeah, it was a real slap in the face. I’m here, I’m human, and I have a purpose. What is that? What do you want to do with it? Art has just always been a grounding sense. It’s always been there for me, through thick and thin. I think it was only after my near-death experience that I realized I just wanted to make art. I listened to that, and that’s what I’ve been doing since,” Alyia shared.
Simply put, Alyia gave me a wake-up call. The background behind them dropped out of focus, and I found myself hanging onto every word she uttered. I wondered why we’re so hesitant to share how we feel — in words, in writing, in art, and even in relationships. Life is so short, and perhaps we forget how little time we have until we’re close to the end.
What compelled many of us to art is basic: we love art-making. It gives us an unparalleled dopamine rush. We find it fun. However, shouldn’t life itself feel the same? Alyia clarified that this perspective took time to develop, citing her experience with [Sara Lawrence Lightfoot Professor of Art Randall] Exon as endlessly formative.
“The first thing I remember Randall telling me is that you can’t make any mistakes in art, and especially in oil painting, you can never put a mark down that you’re gonna regret because you can change it. There are no mistakes. That was really impactful after being such a perfectionist. It allowed me to re-enter the art scene with a completely fresh lens. I hadn’t touched art in years, and then hearing that, I just stopped thinking about perfection. I was just doing art for fun. It was therapeutic. I think Randall allowed that level of exploration. I needed that freedom to do what I needed to do,” she said.
In addition to Alyia’s experience with Professor Exon, I couldn’t help but notice their relationship with our Painting III: Fresco Painting professor, [Visiting Assistant Professor of Art] Mariel Capanna. From the second I entered the class, it was evident that the two deeply understood each other. “I think Mariel was such a blessing for me. She showed me how to have fun in art and still make good art. I was also working in this art studio at the time, so Mariel and I kind of created a nice bond. She’s my favorite professor on this campus. For the first time, an educator made me feel I belonged at Swarthmore. She was very approachable. She shared her life path and how she didn’t have a traditional journey. I feel she’s been such a positive mentor for me when I needed one.”
She elaborated on her experience working with Mariel, “When I worked in her studio, I think she saw my dedication and hard work. In our class, she mentioned this place called the Center for Creative Works, where people with neurodevelopmental disorders can create art, sell it, and make a profit. I didn’t have anything to do over the summer, so she helped me get an internship there. After that, I got her phone number, she met me up with me for coffee, and went over my artwork. Honestly, she’s this constant source of encouragement.”
One common thread I’ve noticed within the Artist of the Week features is the supportive academic environment the art department creates. Alyia’s relationship with Mariel is nothing short of beautiful. As a creative, it’s endlessly significant to have a strong support system. It’s quite easy to conflate your work with your sense of self-worth, so maintaining a close relationship with people who uplift you is invaluable. Notably, Alyia themself recognized this struggle, “This whole semester, I’ve been so concerned about whether my artwork is good. I never had those thoughts at Swarthmore before this semester.”
She continued, “I just wanted to have fun. That was my whole mindset. I was so concerned about what other people were creating that I was focused on mirroring mine. I completely forgot that I’m my own person with art that looks different from others. It shouldn’t look like theirs, and I shouldn’t be trying to make it look like theirs. I shouldn’t be trying to even think about others, because that’s affecting my process.”
After discussing her perspective with Mariel, Alyia spent eight hours working on a fresco. “I sent Mariel a photo of my work. She said that she hadn’t seen a fresco like mine in her fifteen years of experience. It was so uplifting. I’m relearning how to have fun in the studio. What can I do to make my art fun?”
Her answer: add color. I was curious how Alyia started experimenting with color and why it is so significant to them. She responded, “I think because I have PTSD and complex PTSD, for my entire life I’ve experienced disassociation. It’s something that I cope with still to this day. When I disassociate, I’m not really noticing lines and shapes. Everything sort of becomes blurry and folds in on itself. But, you can always see color. I always find color in something.”
Then, Alyia stopped for a second and admitted that finding color hasn’t always been easy for them. “When I was in high school, I worked as a Certified Nursing Assistant. I showered a particular patient every weekend. Whenever I saw her, she would have a new outfit. It was always color matched and if you opened her closet, it was a freaking rainbow. She even had matching socks for her shirt. One day, I asked her why she had such a colorful closet. She responded that when life is really hard and everything is colorless, you need to find your color. If you’re always searching for dark colors, everything is going to be dark. I wanted to have more color in my life. And so, she said, put more color in your life.”
She continued, “It fundamentally changed me. At that point in time, I was the type of person that wore black jeans and black shirts. I’ve never really cared about the color. It wasn’t something I focused on. She made me feel bitter. Because where was my color?”
As we walked out of Sci Cafe, I wondered where my color was. I think it’s quite easy to immerse yourself in the experience of being a college student. Each day bleeds into the other, and suddenly you’re sitting in the studio, being asked by your professor to create a work out of thin air. It all can become blurry and abstract. Sometimes, it can even become flat.
In these moments, when inspiration seems to go extinct, perhaps it’s in the leaves screaming in orange. Maybe it’s in the cheeks of someone you love. It could be hanging off the sweater your mom bought you, or lying within the fortune cookie that aptly reads, “Your attitude is a reflection of your values.” Life is too short to allow your skies to be gray.
