This is where I talk about myself in third person:
Rebecca Rebouche embodies what it means to be a working artist in the 21st century. She balances the delicate dichotomy of brave personal work and coveted commercial assignments. Her emotive and naturalistic style has been widely popularized on products at beloved Anthropologie, while her original paintings grace the homes of today's emerging collectors. Hailing from New Orleans, Rebecca weaves a tapestry of artful living that has been documented and celebrated in publications such as Garden & Gun, Southern Living, Anthology Magazine and The Great Discontent. She has built a loyal following of not only collectors but enthusiasts who feel deeply connected to her approachable and sincere style of sharing through blogs, social media and her mailing list. Through visual allegory, she turns heartbreak into wonder, temporal into immortal, invisible into tangible . Her insights into human nature are expressed through enchanting imagery. Viewing her portfolio is like stepping into her dreams, while her blog reads like a found diary. With more than 500 paintings in private collections across the world and a long waiting list for commissions, Rebecca is poised to be a lifelong artist-to-watch as she grows and takes the world with her on that journey.
I am intrigued by the emotional archeology of our human experience. My work uses elements of the natural world as a metaphor for human relationships and the immediacy of transformative moments.
I begin with an intense feeling or realization, and then sketch a harmony or tension of elements that convey that feeling. It is not important to me to paint things the way that they look, because I paint the way that they feel. Birds, dresses and trees are stand-ins for people, while weather conveys the storms hiding within us. My paintings attempt to create a marriage between the existing landscape and the imaginative reality.
I am interested in the connection to others through my captured awareness of universal truths.
I feel that I have written my own visual language – which I now speak through symbols and technique. Viewers of my work are so drawn to it because it is a language they already
understand – like an ancient mythology written on the inside of our bones. When I work I enter a dance with the collective memory. My paintbrush plays the blues that unite us in acceptance of the wide range of vulnerability required in a lifetime.
I use my own experiences as an authentic springboard toward the truths of memory and projection. To borrow the words of Anais Nin, I “cannot stay quietly rooted anywhere because
of the many sides of myself constantly sprouting, the layers of latent mysteries, the things
I am not yet.”