Today we’d like to introduce you to Alexandra Gallion.
Hi Alexandra, so excited to have you on the platform. So before we get into questions about your work-life, maybe you can bring our readers up to speed on your story and how you got to where you are today?
Honestly, I don’t make art to be recognized or admired. Art is my respite from inner and outer chaos.
When I first started screenprinting, I wanted to make posters like the ones I had seen from old movies. I was drawn to their color schemes, motifs, and ability to translate complex ideas into singular images. As I grew into my creative process, art was no longer just something I did. It became part of who I am.
The work I make is a direct translation of my life and the experiences I have moved through. I grew up in an incredibly loving and resilient family. My mother is Haitian and my father is from California, and that mixture of cultures, histories, and biology laid the foundation for a life I could not have imagined.
Death became familiar to me at a young age after the passing of my brother. That loss shaped my perseverance and my need to express as much of life as possible, honestly and without much apology.
As I approached adulthood, I became dependent on substances to soften the human experience. Ignorant of the consequences, I became a slave to my vices and my mental health suffered. I spent ten years lying to myself about the facts of my disease.
Three years ago, I quit. Two years ago, I began to feel the effects of my art through recovery and through my connection with something truly greater than myself.
The process of my work defines itself: imperfect, unrepeatable, and alive. For a printer, that carries its own irony and contrast. This past year, I returned to woodworking, expanding my practice to large scale sculpture of horses and plants.
I don’t make art so others can see me. I make art so I can see myself. And hopefully, others can see bits of their own humanity in it as well.
My hope is that I am paying attention.
My hope is that I enjoy the process.
I’m sure it wasn’t obstacle-free, but would you say the journey has been fairly smooth so far?
Before drugs and alcohol, there was the rejection of myself. As beautiful as growing up mixed race in the South could be, it also came with challenges. Much of my eating disorder grew from comparison and self-loathing, and drugs and alcohol eventually became a bridge between who I was and who I thought I needed to be in order to survive. For a long time, I used those things to quiet discomfort, avoid vulnerability, and disconnect from myself entirely. Recovery forced me to confront not only addiction, but the ways I had abandoned my own identity and humanity long before substances entered the picture.
Can you tell our readers more about what you do and what you think sets you apart from others?
What I’m most proud of is making exactly what my soul needs to express, regardless of expectation or outcome. My work is less about perfection and more about honesty. Much of it exists to remind myself that life is impermanent, no matter how much effort we put forward. Prints misregister, wood warps, plans fail, people change, and time moves anyway. There is something deeply beautiful about that to me.
What sets me apart is my willingness to let the process remain visible. I don’t try to erase the hand, the mistake, or the emotion from the work. I want the humanity to stay intact. I believe people should give themselves permission to make the work they actually want to make. Full stop.
How do you define success?
When the art helps one person. I have succeeded.
Contact Info:
- Website: https://alliegallion.com
- Instagram: fortheloveofgallion
