Do you know Alonsa Guevara?

Last week, we sat down with our spring instructor, Alonsa Guevara, and asked some questions about her studio practice...

So much of your work has a fractal symmetry that borders on psychedelic. Considering fractal patterns throughout the natural world, does this compositional framework emerge from nature, the psyche, both?

Fractal patterns are everywhere in nature—tree branches, veins in a leaf, the structure of our own bodies. But if we pay attention, we can also see them in the way we experience memory, dreams, and emotions, as well as in our recurring behavioral patterns. My compositions naturally gravitate toward this kind of structure because I see my paintings as organic worlds rather than static images. They grow intuitively, much like a living thing, balancing chaos and order. I think this fractal quality emerges from both nature and the psyche, since I’m always seeking that visceral sense of interconnectedness—between life and death, what exists in reality and in our dreams, between personal narratives and universal myths.

In your work, nature and femininity feel deeply intertwined. Is this connection symbolic, personal, or something that has naturally evolved in your process?

It’s all of the above. On a symbolic level, nature and femininity share cycles of creation, transformation, and renewal—concepts that have long been tied to fertility, growth, and the passage of time. Personally, I feel a profound connection to these cycles, especially after becoming a mother. That experience made me see my body as both a physical and metaphorical soil, capable of nurturing and sustaining new life.

This connection between nature and femininity has evolved naturally in my work, not as a conscious choice but as an expression of my deep respect and admiration for nature and my experience as a woman.

We at Sicily Artist Retreats often talk about the artist’s journey as a physical journey. Our “physical journeys” last about a week; yours has spread across a lifetime: living in Chile, Ecuador, the United States, and back home again to Chile. How has the pilgrimage of your life appeared in your work?

Every time I’ve moved, I’ve felt like a different person. There’s something about displacement that forces you to reshape your sense of self. Each place has left an imprint on me, and over time, I’ve learned to embrace change and transformation as an essential part of my creative process.

In my workshops, artists will have an entire week to reflect on their own journeys—both physical and emotional—and use those experiences as fuel for their work. Whether through symbolism, color, or the layering of different visual elements, we will explore ways to translate personal history into something visually powerful.

My approach to painting isn’t just about rigid technique; it’s about tapping into the natural flow of an idea and allowing it to take shape. We can start with one idea or image in our heads but stay flexible in the process—often leading to a beautiful surprise.

In these workshops, I will help artists find that connection in their own work so they can create paintings that feel deeply personal yet universally understood.    

 You describe yourself as “primarily” a painter, but your work is multidisciplinary. Does each work, as it exists in your imagination, choose its own medium? Or is the process more experimental and unpredictable?

It’s a little of both. Painting is at the core of my practice—it’s how I think, how I process ideas. But sometimes, a concept demands something beyond paint. I’ve always been drawn to materiality, and working with sculpture, installation, or even natural elements allows me to explore the physicality of an idea in ways that a two-dimensional surface can’t.

Most of the time, my sculptural works come from experimenting with new materials, while my installation works stem from a desire to create multi-sensory experiences for viewers. However, my sound pieces come from a more mysterious place—the sounds appear in my head out of the blue while I paint, as if the painting process is translating into sound. When that happens, I quickly record them and later develop them with layers of sounds, instruments, and harmonies.

We can't wait to host Alonsa for Fractals of Memory: World Building Through Landscape Painting from September 28th - October 4th, 2025 - have you signed up yet?