 I am deeply grateful that my mother is still here, and that we have had many years together. More than anything, I am grateful we are best friends.
She taught me resourcefulness, optimism, resilience, humility, faith, the importance of family, and how to live a Christ-centered life—even though I am not a practicing Christian. She also taught me about creativity and imagination. She always encouraged me to write and to lean into my art. I remember her gathering crushed glass from a broken bus shelter to fill a vase for one of her beautiful flower arrangements. When we first arrived in Canada, she used tin cans in place of pots and pans to cook for our family. She knows four languages and holds three citizenships. She has lived in Brazil, Canada, Cuba, and the United States, raised four children, and now has nine grandchildren. She is an accomplished artist in her own right. She taught me to paint, to drive, and to walk down a runway. She also taught me my first word: borboleta—butterfly. I have watched her become that word many times over: moving through community service, department store retail, and cleaning homes, always finding a way forward. More recently, I watched her navigate the death of my father—after forty years of marriage—with quiet grace and wisdom. I hope I honor her sacrifices and the many ways she has shaped my life. She is my modern-day hero and my best friend. She has helped me load, unload, hang, and transport artwork more times than I can count. She has attended more of my shows than anyone. She is my biggest fan. I hope the years ahead are gentle with her.  Gallery MAR visited the studio this morning to pick up new work. There’s something quietly satisfying about seeing the pieces leave and knowing they’re in good hands. Grateful for the ongoing collaboration.
https://www.gallerymar.com/artists/samantha-da-silva  This afternoon I wrote a gratitude list on a 60 by 48 inch canvas with a Sharpie. I poured rubbing alcohol over the words and watched them melt. The canvas is outside now, drying in the sun. Paint and texture will cover the writing. I do not need the words to stay visible. I trust the intention remains in the surface, and that a viewer can feel it without being able to read it.
The list comes from thirty days of writing one before sleep. One line from the journal says it plainly: I like gratitude because it makes me feel good. A mentor once told me the practice is a way of sowing seeds to dream about, and collecting the harvest when you wake. The challenges are still there. What shifted is the view.  It’s here, and I’m so excited to finally share it with you. My work is in the May/June issue of Utah Life Magazine, and I feel super honored.
When I arrived eight years ago, I wasn’t sure this place would hold. I began painting almost as soon as I got here, and one of the first things I did was gather what the land offered: iron-rich dirt, salt from the Great Salt Lake, sawdust from a nearby shop. These materials became the way I rooted, and they still are. Thank you to Ariella Nardizzi for “Painting with Earth: Artist Explores Place and Memory Through Salt, Sand, and Soil,” and to everyone who keeps making room for my work. Pick up a copy at newsstands across Utah, or order the issue at utahlifemag.com.  I have decided to spend these precious hours making paintings for you.
This group came in after rain and after heat: pale plaster, sage, salt-blue, gold, and dark ground. Some hold a single vertical of light. One is a moon completed only when the two panels meet. Another looks, to me, like a bouquet left on a weathered wall. They are earthy and luminous at once. I hope they find rooms where that contrast can live. They have more depth in person. If one of them is speaking to you, I would love for you to stand in front of it.  Gathering of Moons
mixed media on canvas, 48” × 60” The changing of the season is upon us. A time for slowing down, going within, organizing the small universe. Gathering of moons. This painting stood in the weather: gentle rain, wind turning the leaves from green to red and yellow ochre, brilliant sun, and moonlight. The surface is time-worn on purpose. I like it against a modern room. Outside brought in. A reminder of how small we are under a gathering of moons.  Congratulations to 15 Bytes on twenty-five years of writing Utah’s art into view.
This publication helped me get situated after I arrived from Canada and Hawaiʻi. It was one of the first places I recognized a conversation already underway (artists, writers, museums) and felt I could join it. Last night it was a pleasure to meet so many of the people who keep that conversation alive. A thriving landscape is never accidental. It is built, issue by issue.  Fearless Abstract Painting at Ogden Contemporary Arts.
Grateful for the chance to share the work and meet this community on the canvas.  Equilibrium
mixed media on canvas, 40” × 30” Painting used to be the place I went when life would not hold still. Once it became the work itself: the income, the calendar, the public face; that refuge changed shape. This piece came out of that. Not balance as peace, but balance as weight: heavy next to light, the need to keep painting next to the need to disappear into it. The surface holds both. Nothing is settled. They just meet and stay. |
