We were lucky to catch up with Anya Cherrice recently and have shared our conversation below.

Anya , looking forward to hearing all of your stories today. Do you wish you had started sooner?

I’ve always drawn. Always painted. As a child, art felt like a second language—one I spoke fluently but never dared to claim. I carried it with me through high school, where I dreamed of applying to art school, longing to dedicate my life to creativity. But when the time came, I told everyone I chose journalism because I wanted to change the world. The truth? I was afraid. Afraid of what people would think, afraid I wouldn’t make money, afraid I wouldn’t be taken seriously.

And so, I ignored the call.

Strangely, art kept showing up anyway. In college, I hung three of my paintings in my dorm, and some of my floor-mates raved about them. I shrugged it off as politeness. Years later, at my first job, I showed some coworkers some old paintings and they asked me to paint something for their apartments. I dismissed it. At the time I thought investing in art would have been too expensive, too time-consuming, too impractical.

Then the pandemic arrived. Time stretched endlessly before me, and for the first time in years, I had the space to listen. But even then, I hesitated. And filled the time with other things. It took another three years before I finally said, I’m going to try again and actually tried again.

And now? It’s the most freeing thing I’ve ever done.

In just over a year of taking my art seriously, I’ve created 11 major paintings, dozens of sketches, stretched myself creatively, exhibited in a group show, joined an art society, and had a piece selected to be displayed in a museum. Art has given me more than I ever expected—it’s given me myself. Every time I pick up a brush, I feel at home. I know this is something I could do for the rest of my life.

Do I wish I had started sooner? Maybe. I wonder where I’d be if I had trusted myself back then, if I had followed the nudges God sent me instead of silencing them. Could I have been my future self by now?

But I also believe what’s meant for me will never pass me by. I may have taken the scenic route, but I made it here. And now that I’m here, I’m never letting go.

As always, we appreciate you sharing your insights and we’ve got a few more questions for you, but before we get to all of that can you take a minute to introduce yourself and give our readers some of your back background and context?

Meet the Artist: My Journey, My Art, My Mission
I’m Anya Cherrice, a Caribbean-inspired painter creating vibrant, nature-infused artwork that transforms spaces into soulful sanctuaries. My work isn’t just about aesthetics—it’s about memory, warmth, and connection. Through lush landscapes, golden hues, and tropical influences, I craft visual stories that evoke nostalgia and invite you to feel deeply connected to your space.

How I Got Here
Art has been with me for as long as I can remember. As a child, I sketched and painted endlessly, drawn to the colors and textures of my surroundings—the deep, rich greens of the tropics, the metallic gleam of bangles and earrings, the coconut trees stretching endlessly toward the sky. I carried that love through high school, where I studied art with dreams of pursuing it further.

But fear and practicality led me elsewhere. I chose journalism, then advertising, then marketing—convincing myself I couldn’t focus on art while also building a career that “paid the bills”.

Even as I built a life in storytelling through words, art never stopped calling. I hung my paintings in my college dorm, received praise from colleagues who saw my sketches, and constantly felt the pull to create. But I kept brushing it off—until I couldn’t anymore.

In 2023, I finally gave myself permission to return to painting, and it felt like coming home. In just a short time, I’ve created over a dozen major paintings, exhibited in art shows, joined an art society, and even had one of my works selected for a museum exhibition. Every brushstroke has reinforced one truth: this is what I was meant to do.

What I Create & Who It’s For
I specialize in tropical-inspired art prints and original paintings that bring warmth, depth, and personality to a space. My collectors aren’t just looking for decor—they’re curating a home that tells a story. They believe their spaces are a sanctuary—a place to come back to, to feel something: connection, joy, peace, nostalgia, belonging, serenity.

My work resonates with:
🌿 Nature lovers who find peace in lush greenery and organic textures
🖼️ Collectors who crave art with soul—pieces that carry memory and emotion
🏡 Design enthusiasts who want art that feels bold yet timeless
✈️ Those who long for a connection to a place—whether it’s their roots, a dream destination, or a memory they never want to forget

What Sets Me Apart
✔ A Personal Connection to Every Piece – My paintings aren’t just images; they’re stories. They are layered with inspiration from my Caribbean heritage, nature, and the idea of creating spaces that feel like an escape.
✔ A Bridge Between Cultures – My art celebrates the beauty and vibrancy of island life while remaining accessible to collectors around the world.
✔ A Deep Focus on Emotion & Storytelling – Every piece is created to evoke a feeling—whether it’s nostalgia, serenity, or the pure joy of color.

What I’m Most Proud Of
In just one year of committing to my craft, I’ve accomplished things I never imagined:
🎨 Building a body of work that feels deeply, authentically me
🏛️ Having a painting accepted into a major museum exhibition
🖼️ Hearing collectors say, “This reminds me of home”

But more than any achievement, I’m proud that I finally said yes to the thing I was always meant to do.

What I Want You to Know
If you’re searching for art that’s more than just something to fill a wall—if you want pieces that feel like a warm embrace, a vivid memory, or a sunlit escape—you’re in the right place. I’d love to help you find a painting that speaks to you.

Learning and unlearning are both critical parts of growth – can you share a story of a time when you had to unlearn a lesson?

For a long time, I thought I needed permission—external validation—to truly pursue something. Of course, feedback is valuable, especially if you want to grow, but waiting for validation before starting? That’s a trap.

A friend recently told me, “Anya, you’re like the female version of the Dos Equis man—the most interesting person in the world. You want to learn salsa? You do it and create a whole community. You want to work in tech? You figure out how to start. You want to be an artist? You paint, and poof—you’re in a show.”

That comment stuck with me because if you had asked 13-year-old me if that was the kind of person I wanted to be, I would’ve said yes in a heartbeat. But between then and now, there was a lot of unlearning I had to do.

I remember being a kid and telling my aunt I wanted to own my own business one day. She looked me dead in the eyes and said, That’s a stupid idea. It’s too much work. I was maybe 10 years old. And when you’re a child, you absorb those messages like gospel. You start internalizing the idea that some dreams are unrealistic and that doing things on your own terms is too hard.

Looking back, maybe that was the moment I learned to seek validation. To believe that if something didn’t come with an obvious roadmap or social approval, it wasn’t worth pursuing. And I carried that belief with me for years. I saw it in the way I chose journalism over art. I saw it every time I dismissed a compliment about my paintings as just someone being “nice.” I saw it in the way I kept pushing art to the side—even though it was always calling me back.

I used to be consumed by fears—fear of what people would think, fear of going against the grain, fear of not doing “the right thing,” fear of being seen as impractical, fear of being a disappointment. I think that’s why embracing my art earlier felt impossible. It wasn’t in. It didn’t come with the built-in validation of a high-status career, and I couldn’t see a clear path forward with it. So I thought, Why waste my time?

Ironically, ignoring my calling and prioritizing what others thought was the real waste of time.

One of the most liberating lessons I’ve learned is that when you start living for yourself—truly making decisions based on what excites and fulfills you—it scares people. Maybe it’s jealousy, but I think it’s deeper than that. It makes people uncomfortable because it forces them to confront their own limitations. And human nature is to “fix” what makes us uncomfortable, so people try to fix you.

The more I’ve embraced my art, the more I’ve had to unlearn my attachment to validation. In the Caribbean culture I grew up in, you listen to your elders, you follow tradition, and the group always comes before the individual. I had to release the parts of that conditioning that were keeping me from fulfilling my purpose.

So if there’s something you’re waiting for permission to start, let this be your sign: just begin. The validation will either come later—or, more importantly, you’ll realize you never needed it in the first place.

What’s the most rewarding aspect of being a creative in your experience?

For me, the most rewarding part of being an artist is the realization that creativity isn’t just something we do—it’s why we’re here. Creativity is purpose. It’s the thread that connects every part of life, from painting a canvas to cooking a meal, from writing a love letter to carefully choosing your Sunday best. Creativity is both a privilege and a responsibility, and every time I step into it, I’m reminded that I’m fulfilling the very thing I was designed to do.

Whenever I feel stuck in a painting—when the colors aren’t flowing, when the composition feels off—I remind myself: This process is the purpose. The act of creating, of making something out of nothing, is why you’re here. That shift in mindset changes everything. It takes the pressure off the outcome and makes space for exploration, for discovery, for joy.

And in a way, being an artist mirrors life itself. Sometimes you make mistakes. Sometimes you look at what you’ve made and don’t love it. Sometimes you feel stuck and don’t know how to move forward. And sometimes, you have to reframe what you once thought was finished. But that’s okay—because the beauty is in the creating, not just the final result. And knowing that? That’s everything.

Contact Info:

• Website: https://www.anyacherriceart.com/
• Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/anyacherrice_art/

Image Credits

Savannah Greenly