Tara Walters is one of contemporary painting’s most quietly radical voices. Her work is mystical yet materially rigorous. It feels like a dream you could fall into at any moment.
Born in Washington, D.C., in 1990, Walters lived and worked until recently in LA. However, since January, when the Palisades fires destroyed her home, she has been in New York.
Her formal training, a BFA in Painting from Savannah College of Art and Design and an MFA from the ArtCenter College of Design in Pasadena, might suggest a conventional pedigree, but her process is anything but orthodox.
She is known for blending paint with seawater collected from the Pacific, allowing mineral dregs and salt to leave ghostly traces across her unprimed canvases.
The resulting works are hazy, undulating, as though seen through a misted window. They shimmer with color, yet resist the hard edges of figurative painting, creating portals into what she calls “future-telling” realms.
Walters’ spiritual life is deeply woven into her artistic practice. She attends psychic retreats and works with tarot, often consulting metaphysical guidance while creating.
Yet for all its otherworldly quality, Walters’ work retains a deeply human pulse. She describes her creative method as listening: when she paints, she waits, allowing forms to emerge through layers of water and pigment. “I always like the part of the painting where it looks like it’s abstract and then it’s not,” she says. Her practice is perhaps most defined by its quiet yet complex storytelling, her creation of scenes that blend nature with imagination.
“There are moments where I am not in control. Dots, washes, and textures form organically. The water moves, the paint sets, and the world performs its own elemental work. Some of my paintings even feature crystals that formed from working with ocean water. They are delicate and require careful handling, which mirrors how we should care for the earth itself.”
One of the 40 different hand-embellished editions - photography Garrett Carrroll
Her new Artspace edition, The Cathedrals of Central Park, 2025, a collection of 40 unique hand-painted prints, is a striking example of this. The archival pigment print with hand-painting with Winsor & Newton ink and graphite on Hahnemühle Hemp 290 paper measures 20 x 25.4 inches and is signed and numbered on the front and titled on the back. It is priced $1,500
In The Cathedrals of Central Park, 2025, an open meadow in Manhattan’s Central Park glows beneath a romantic celestial canopy. Every impression features a distinct scene - prancing fawns, floating balloons, leaping horses, a strike of lightning, and more - transforming a quiet clearing into a world of discovery and wonder. Each edition is hand-embellished, signed, and numbered by the artist.
One of the 40 different hand-embellished editions - photography Garrett Carrroll
“When I began creating this specific work, my process shifted a little. I had a notebook with me, because I was not able to use my usual organic process, but I was still able to meditate and receive images and stories afterward,” Walters tells Artpsace. “I would quickly sketch ideas in my book using that fast, intuitive energy, and then I would translate those sketches onto the prints. I filled them with inks, silvers, and golds, which created such a luminous feeling.”
Walters’ paintings have been exhibited in Los Angeles, New York, Miami, Shanghai and Venice, and are held in the collections of ICA Miami, X Museum, Lindsley Hall, and HERmit Space.
The Cathedrals of Central Park, 2025 was commissioned in partnership with Children’s Action Network (CAN), and will support the organization’s mission to raise awareness about and finding homes for the more than 100,000 children in foster care in the United States who are waiting for an adoptive family. We asked Tara Walters about the new edition and how it fits into her wider practice.
One of the 40 different hand-embellished editions - photography Garrett Carrroll
You are hand embellishing aspects of this edition. What does that consist of?
It is interesting, because how I relate to this is actually a very beautiful thing with these prints and the hand embellishing, there is something deeply personal for me. When I was living in Malibu, I began creating a tarot series on my deck, using inks from Winsor & Newton. That project taught me how to truly work with paper, through drawing and using inks.
When I began creating this specific work, my process shifted a little. I had a notebook with me, because I was not able to use my usual organic process, but I was still able to meditate and receive images and stories afterward. I would quickly sketch ideas in my book using that fast, intuitive energy, and then I would translate those sketches onto the prints. I filled them with inks, silvers, and golds, which created such a luminous feeling.
The water I used came from the ocean in Southampton. It is water that does not crystallize, but it carries a certain beauty and purity, and I believe each print is imbued with that particular magic. The images that appeared to me were scenes of Central Park. I have been told that my drawing style has a dialogue with Florine Stettheimer, and when I created these pieces, I found that to be true.
In making them, I referenced three different things: my own memories and experiences walking through Central Park, paintings I have seen at the Met, which is itself inside the park, and paintings from my own body of work that I have been developing over the past several years.
When I was asked what the title should be, I sat and thought about it. The first word that came to mind was Eden, but I was also thinking of Central Park. Then I thought about Florine Stettheimer again, and her series of Cathedrals paintings at the Met—the Cathedrals of Wall Street, the Cathedrals of Art, the Cathedrals of Fifth Avenue. But there is no Cathedrals of Central Park.
So when I looked at these forty pieces, each one reminded me of my experiences in Central Park—seeing something, remembering something, or reflecting on my own work within that space. It even brought to mind all the pottery, sculpture, and beauty that live in Central Park. That became the essence of this edition and what makes it so special. It has allowed me to feel accepted as a new New Yorker.
Can you tell us about the original artwork that this edition springs from?
When I painted Seven Trees of Eden it began simply with me wanting to paint a forest. I grew up in Maryland with a state park forest behind my house, and I was missing that landscape, missing the East Coast. I was thinking a lot about winter, about the changing seasons, and about the kinds of animals that live there such as foxes, snakes, squirrels, bunnies, and deer.
When I was a kid, I used to look out my back window and see around nineteen deer gathered outside. That was always so enchanting to me. With this painting, I wanted to create a land of enchantment, something that captures the magical and mysterious feeling of the East Coast.
What does the title mean to you?
I finished the painting in 2023, and at the time I was supposed to show it at Frieze in London. When I need to title a painting, it often feels like I am giving a reading. I look at the image and ask, what is it saying? What is it conveying? Almost as if I am pulling a tarot card. For this one, I saw seven trees.
At that moment, I was thinking about beginnings, about where I started. I began in Maryland, and that is part of my origin story. To me, the seven trees are like the trees in the Garden of Eden, the ones that existed at the beginning of time, at least through myth and belief.
It feels meaningful that this painting has come forward again now, because I am starting fresh in my own life, after everything that happened in the LA fires. [Walters lost her Pacific Palisades house] I am beginning again as a New Yorker, and this new series is about exploring my new life here on the Upper East Side of Manhattan, living next to the park.
The fire experience must have been terrifying...
It was devastating and deeply unsettling. It made me question who I am, what my identity is, and where I go from here. It forced me to reflect on what is valuable, what truly matters, and our connection to the planet and to community. It also highlighted the fleeting, unpredictable nature of life and the people who surround us.
During this time, I was fortunate that one of my cousins offered my husband, our dog, and me a place to stay in Manhattan, in Soho, for a few months. I ended up living near Alex Katz, who I have never met, and it was the kind of opportunity to live in a Soho loft that felt rare and precious. I began painting again, and my first painting was an homage to Alex Katz with elements from the city and the incredible history of artists who have lived here.
Since moving to New York, I have been thinking a lot about other artists and influential women who shaped their worlds. One painting carries a strong influence from Laura Owens, who lives between Long Island and LA; she was actually with me the night before both of our houses burned down. Another piece reflects on Alex Katz. In this series, I have also been thinking about Gertrude Vanderbilt Whitney and Florine Stettheimer, women who lived here roughly a century ago and continue to inspire. They were enigmatic, awe-inspiring, powerfully feminine, and often rule breakers.
One of my prints is an homage to Florine Stettheimer’s Flight of the Pink Fancy Heart, from 1932. In this there is a woman wearing pants. Florine and Gertrude were wearing pants at a time when it was considered highly unorthodox, which seems commonplace now but was revolutionary then. I am deeply inspired by these women! their charisma, their courage, and their ability to leave a lasting influence. They remind me that boldness and creativity are timeless, and that these qualities continue to resonate and inspire today.
Photography Nir Arieli
We’re intrigued by your use of materials, particularly seawater and the pareidolia of using the studio floor? What are the motivations behind this?
My thoughts and motivations for using seawater began around the time I was exploring pareidolia in my paintings. The technique grew out of a process of researching surrealist methods and incorporating them into my work. I have been an active spiritualist since I was young, which goes hand in hand with growing up with horses and learning to communicate with nature. For me, painting with ocean water is a way of connecting with one of the most foundational elements of our world. It is immensely powerful, far more powerful than me.
I often start with a print as a ground, and when I lift it, I see emerging images that create the composition. This process informs how I move forward with my larger paintings. It is not only a conversation with chance but also a dialogue with my subconscious. Working with ocean water—or other elemental materials—is a direct engagement with the elements that make up our planet. Water covers roughly 70 percent of the Earth, and our bodies are largely made of water. Using it in my work creates a relationship with something inherent and all-encompassing. Salt, too, is purifying, and for me, the paintings become passageways to peace.
The work incorporates folklore, communication, and imagery, which are shaped through meditation—the ultimate component of my process. My practice stems from a deep respect for the natural world, and I continue to engage with water, chance, and meditation to create these works. I also take classes and study meditation consistently, continually learning to dive deeper into my practice and my work.
Photography Nir Arieli
What are the emotions you seek to provoke in viewers coming across your work and what do they say to you?
One of the most rewarding experiences I’ve had with my work is seeing the emotional effect it can have on viewers. I’ve been fortunate to have two solo booths with Kristina Kite, at art fairs in 2021 and 2023. Kristina would tell me that people would come into the booth, just hang out, and say that they felt an overwhelming sense of peace and calm.
Another painter friend of mine once said that when she entered the art booth at Frieze London. she felt a sense of reprieve, like a small corner of calm in the middle of the chaos of the fair. That was fascinating to me! to see how the energy of the work could create that effect. I believe it comes from the meditation I do before creating each piece. In my classes, I learned that healers, through meditation, can channel energy into their hands and imbue it into their work. For me, painting is a form of that kind of healing energy.
Another thing people often comment on is my palette. I think this comes from my dialogue with watercolor, and also the water I use in my work. I use a lot of water, sometimes even saltwater from the ocean. Since moving to New York, some pieces have Atlantic Ocean water, some just New York City’s finest (tap water). Even when it doesn’t crystallize, it carries its own energy and beauty.
People often describe my work as dreamlike or as evoking a dream state, which resonates with me because so much of what I do stems from meditation, tarot, or that space of clear thought and play. Play, to me, is deeply connected to meditation—it allows the imagination to roam freely. That combination of meditation, energy, and imaginative play is really at the heart of my process and, I think, of the effect my work has on others.
Photography Nir Arieli
What are the ideas and emotions that you are most interested in exploring in your work?
Freedom, glamour, homages, beauty, bliss, peace, serenity, transformation, and boundary building. Many of my paintings have these boundaries. When you see a painting of mine with a white border or a defined edge, it usually marks a memory or a dream state. It is a space that you can access, but it is also a plane that exists apart from this one, a place you can enter and temporarily escape into.
I am also very interested in world building. I want to create worlds that are not chaotic, because there is enough chaos in the world already. I want to create spaces that someone can inhabit after the noise settles, places that allow for reflection, calm, and a sense of renewal.
I felt this most recently when I was in front of a Mark Rothko painting. It made me think about endurance, what remains after the struggle, the fire, the pain. It felt like looking out to a horizon, a space of infinite possibility. It was a reminder that after difficulty, there is room to begin anew, to step into the next phase, the next chapter. That sense of renewal, of starting fresh, is what I aim to evoke in my work.
What’s the biggest inspiration for that?
I think my biggest source of inspiration comes from understanding where we have come from and creating an opportunity to move forward into the future. At the heart of my work is the idea of time and space.
I am very interested in moments of time - time in relation to memory, to pain, and to homages for those who came before us. Time is also about envisioning the future, like creating a kind of meditative vision board.
Space is equally important. I want my work to create a place that people can enter. It is not about being on the nose or confrontational; it is a space that everyone can access, a place where everyone is welcome to be present. That inclusivity, that ability for everyone to inhabit the work, is what I find most important.
Photography Nir Arieli
What are the elements of dream or otherworldly states that inspire your work?
The elements of dream in my work come from otherworldly states of mind. They’re rooted in meditation. It’s really about that space you enter when you close your eyes and breathe deeply, in and out, and allow the imagination to open.
It’s connected to yoga, to stillness, to visualization. You sit quietly, inhale, exhale, and then picture a place that brings you happiness or serenity. You imagine a pathway, and at the end of that path there’s a door. You reach out with your right hand, open the door, and walk through it. That moment, that threshold, is where my paintings begin. That is where the elements of dream live.
How much of your work is planned, spontaneous, or experimental?
I have what you might call a very active imagination. Much of my work comes from imagination, daydreaming, and noticing things that spark a “wow” moment. Some people might call it ADD, but I have simply always had an active mind. As a child, I truly believed in fairies, folklore, myths, ghosts, and the supernatural.
When it comes to how much of my work is planned, spontaneous, or experimental, it is a combination. I may start with many ideas, sketches, notes, or thoughts of what I want to do, but once I stand in front of the canvas, everything shifts. The paintbrush, my hand, and the medium take over, and I enter a kind of meditative, free-flowing state. In that moment, I let the painting reveal itself.
I think of it like dance. You do the stretches, the exercises, the preparation, so that when the music begins, you can move freely and intuitively. Painting works the same way. Planning lays the groundwork, but the true creation comes from being fully present and responsive. Some elements may be incorporated spontaneously, even ideas I planned earlier, but they are absorbed in the moment.
It is in this active, flowing state that imagination roams freely. That is what allows the painting to emerge, spontaneous, experimental, and alive.
Tara Walters Photographed by Nir Arieli
When did you became conscious of your art being able to translate intangible or metaphysical experiences?
I first started realizing that my paintings held metaphysical experiences after I learned how to access my psychic mind. It happened when I was twenty-nine, during a retreat in Ojai. One of the women hosting the retreat, who I still take psychic classes with today, received a message from her spirit guides telling her that she needed to host this retreat and teach women how to access this part of their minds. I just happened to be there, and it completely changed my life.
We were in the hills of Ojai, camping and eating vegan food. It was the ultimate California experience. During that time, I began feeling an odd nerve sensation in my legs, which coincided with learning how to tap into my psychic ability. The process itself was simple. My teacher asked us to sit down, cross our legs, and breathe deeply. Then she guided us to ask for permission to access the sitter’s highest spirits, loved ones, and ancestors.
When I began doing readings, I would ask someone to say their full name, and immediately images would begin to appear in my mind. It was as if I were watching a film that was not my own thought. I would describe what I saw in real time, almost like narrating a movie. In one of my first readings, I said I saw a city house that shifted into a lake house that looked like Lake Tahoe. The woman I was reading for, who I had never met before, told me that she lived in the city and owned a lake house in Lake Tahoe. That was the moment I knew this ability was real. I understood then that this intuitive channel exists for all of us, if we learn how to tune into it like a radio or tv signal.
After that experience, I began noticing mysterious connections between my psychic work and my paintings. One example is the painting Malibu Music, which was later collected by the ICA Miami. I created it quickly and intuitively. I saw a bass guitar appear in the composition, then the Malibu Hills in the background, and then what looked like a bird on top of it. I did not plan any of it. I just followed what appeared.
Months later, my house in Malibu burned down. While my friend Kat was writing the press release for my exhibition, she said to me, “Tara, the dove is crying. Do you see the tear?” I looked and realized she was right. The dove I had painted had a large tear falling from its eye. The background was painted in a soft orange sky that looked exactly like the one during the fires. The bass in the painting resembled my husband’s, which was destroyed in the fire.
Experiences like that have shown me that everything is connected. They remind me that God exists, that the universe exists, and that we are all part of a beautiful, living continuum of time and spirit. For me, that realization gives me hope.
Tara Walters Photographed by Nir Arieli
What do editions mean to you and how do they fit into your practice?
When I think about my editions, what they mean to me, and how they fit into my wider practice, I see them as extensions of my imagination. Since we have already talked about how active my imagination is, it makes sense that each edition feels completely different from the next.
They often take place in Central Park or in East Coast forests, but what I love is that every one of my paintings looks different, even though they come from the same place, the same state of mind, the same inner landscape within my brain. That is ultimately where everything begins.
Each painting captures a different experience, a different moment, a different time within that imagined space. That is what connects them within my wider practice, the question of what time or state of being we are experiencing within these spaces that exist both in nature and in the mind
Tell us about children’s action network and why you support their work.
The Children’s Action Network is amazing. I was very fortunate to grow up with my mom and dad, who I love deeply, and my brother. Family has always been extremely important to me. I love my family, and I love my husband’s family too.
On my dad’s side, my cousins adopted three foster brothers who were all related. They adopted all three, and I remember visiting them in Florida when I was younger. Seeing those boys and how much love and joy they brought into my cousins’ lives was something truly special. It showed me the beauty and importance of foster care, and how powerful love can be in transforming lives.
One of the things that really resonates with me about this mission is how it challenges the idea that foster kids are “bad kids.” What does that even mean? I don’t believe in that concept. Children are innocent, and that innocence is something we all share as human beings.
That same innocence connects us to one another. It reminds us of the importance of continuing love, of creating spaces where everyone can experience happiness, humanity, and belonging. We are all part of one family on this earth. Foster care, at its heart, celebrates that truth, that we are all each other’s family.
Buy one of the 40 different hand-embellished The Cathedrals of Central Park, 2025 editions here.
