
Rachel Streetman paints people and the things they carry. Her portraits begin in color rather than likeness, reds set against teals, gold against olive, and resolve into faces that feel familiar without belonging to anyone in particular. She has been making them for about a decade, largely in digital paint, and they remain the center of the work.
Lately the work has become physical. Using heavy‑bodied acrylic and a palette knife, she builds flowers in relief thick enough to throw their own shadow, over grounds left thin and dripping. The surface is the point, and a photograph of it is always a compromise.
She works from a studio in Arizona, where she lives with her husband and daughter.
Rachel is writing this. It will appear here when she is ready, in her words and no one else's.