Today we’d like to introduce you to Syn Devereaux.

Hi Syn, so excited to have you with us today. What can you tell us about your story?

Where do I begin! To start, I’ll say this: my life has been a series of unconventional moments for a solid 32 years and nine months (and a few days). Born in Utah to young(ish) parents, my younger brother—3.5 years my junior—and I lived there until I was 4.5 when my parents divorced. Really, now that I think about it, that’s where everything begins.

We moved to Las Vegas, my mom’s hometown, and lived with my grandparents until I was nine. When I turned nine, my brother and I moved with my grandparents to a small desert town called Pahrump—a place I don’t often look back on with fondness. Just before the move, my mom gave custody of us to my grandparents. It happened literally the night before.

Now, before you judge her, know this: my mom has lived an incredibly hard life. At just six weeks old, she was in a devastating car accident that left her with severe traumatic brain injuries. As a result, she wasn’t in a position to care for two small children. I was parentified at a very young age, and though there’s much more to the story, that’s the heart of it.

The next nine years in Pahrump were spent in what felt like a house of horrors. Emotional, physical, verbal, and mental abuse were rampant. Art and music became my refuge, along with my childhood cat, Princess (RIP, mi princesa). I carried my little pink iPod Nano everywhere, often hiding in the dead mesquite trees on our ten-acre property or climbing onto the roof to stargaze and escape the chaos.

At 18, I got a scholarship to college in Reno (go Pack!) but spent my first semester doing all the things you’re not supposed to do—joining a sorority, partying, skipping class. I learned a lot but ultimately moved back home before the second semester started.

I spent six months in Las Vegas living with my aunt and uncle before deciding to move back to Reno and try again. That decision—to choose myself—felt like my second real act of rebellion. Reno had its challenges (more than I can detail here), but after almost three years, I felt called to Los Angeles.

At 22, I moved to LA for a live-in nanny job that would change my life. I was doe-eyed, bushy-tailed, and convinced I was going to be the next Ryan Tedder of songwriting. My time in LA shaped me profoundly. I got my first car, my driver’s license, and met someone who would forever change the course of my life. I also found my soul cat.

In 2019, feeling another pull, I moved to California’s Central Coast. I called it home for five years, but it was the most challenging season of my life. It felt like the universe had cut me wide open and dissected me piece by piece.

But through all of it, I grew. I’m here now, living on the East Coast, figuring things out one canvas and poem at a time. And I wouldn’t trade a second of it.

Today, I’m deeply in love with the woman I see in the mirror. I fiercely honor, love, and protect her. Most of my life has centered around the theme of grief—grief for what was, what wasn’t, and what could have been. But in the last year, I’ve come to understand that grief and pain can be beautiful. They hurt, but they also heal.

And that’s what brought me here—somewhere I never thought I’d be.

Can you talk to us a bit about the challenges and lessons you’ve learned along the way. Looking back would you say it’s been easy or smooth in retrospect?

Not at all. My journey has been filled with twists, turns, and some incredibly rocky terrain. From a young age, life demanded resilience. My parents divorced when I was four, and my brother and I moved in with my grandparents. While they did their best to provide, the environment wasn’t easy—emotional, physical, and verbal abuse shaped much of my childhood. I was often navigating a world that felt heavy and chaotic, longing for stability and understanding.

For years, I felt stuck in survival mode, finding solace only in art, music, and my beloved childhood cat, Princess. These became my refuges, my small spaces of peace amid the storm. I’d carry my little pink iPod Nano everywhere, often hiding in the dead mesquite trees on our ten-acre property or climbing onto the roof to stargaze. These were moments of escape—where the chaos faded, and I could breathe.

Adulthood brought its own set of challenges. My college years were marked by trial and error, moving between cities, and navigating mental health struggles that often felt insurmountable. When I moved to Los Angeles at 22, it was a pivotal moment, but even then, life wasn’t smooth. I was figuring out who I was, chasing dreams, and reckoning with past wounds I hadn’t yet begun to heal.

My time on California’s Central Coast was transformative but intensely painful. It felt as though I was being broken apart to be rebuilt. Grief has been a central theme in my life—grieving what I’ve lost, what I’ve endured, and what could have been.
Now, that grief is being processed and channeled into my art—whether it’s painting, poetry, or something else entirely. I’ve come to understand myself more deeply than ever before. Through a lot of life, the support of great friends and systems, and therapy, I’ve learned to hold space for the versions of myself that once felt lost, out of control, unwanted, or like a burden.

Each experience, each struggle has shaped me. They’ve taught me resilience, self-love, and the beauty of embracing imperfection. The road has been anything but smooth, but it has brought me to a place where I can honor my past and use it to create something beautiful. Through my art, I’ve found a way to process my pain and channel it into something meaningful, turning grief into growth and expression.

Alright, so let’s switch gears a bit and talk business. What should we know about your work?

As an artist and writer, my work is deeply rooted in intuition and intricately intertwined with spirituality. For me, creating art isn’t just about producing something visually or verbally striking—it’s a process of channeling, listening, and connecting to something greater than myself. Whether I’m crafting a poem, painting layers of colors and textures, or exploring other forms of creative expression, I approach my practice with a profound sense of trust in my instinct, energy, and the unseen forces that guide me.

At the heart of my work is a central theme of grief—its raw, messy, and transformative nature. I believe that grief is not something to be feared or avoided, but rather, it’s a force that shapes us in ways both painful and profound. My art is an attempt to give life to these emotions, to hold space for their unrelenting power and beauty, and to create a space where others can feel seen and understood in their own journeys of loss and healing. I view grief not as something to escape from, but as a source of deep transformation, one that offers a pathway to self-awareness, growth, and ultimately, connection.

Currently, I am deeply immersed in a personal project called “The Tenth Circle,” which combines my poetry and visual art. This series features a collection of paintings paired with excerpts from an epic poem I wrote, also titled “The Tenth Circle: A Message from Hell or Heaven Sent.” The project explores grief’s visceral and unfiltered experience—how it feels in the body, mind, and spirit. Each painting breathes life into the raw emotions explored in the poem, creating a dynamic dialogue between visual and written art. It’s a deeply personal project that demands honesty, vulnerability, and a willingness to confront the more difficult aspects of the human experience. Through it, I strive to convey the depth of grief while offering others a means to reflect on their own journeys of healing and transformation.

What sets my work apart is my ability to blend the sacred with the raw, the everyday with the transcendent. My art isn’t about providing answers—it’s about creating space for others to explore their own stories, emotions, and connections. I believe that we all carry grief in different ways, and my art seeks to make those emotions visible, giving others a lens through which they can better understand and honor their own experiences.

One of the things I’m most proud of is how my art has inspired others to reconnect with their creativity and inner worlds. Through poetry, painting, or even the simplest act of writing, people have shared with me how my work has allowed them to feel seen in their struggles, offering validation for emotions they’ve kept hidden. It’s an honor to hold space for others in this way, creating something that resonates deeply and encourages introspection.

For me, creating is more than just an expression—it’s a dialogue between the seen and unseen, a way to translate the intangible into something tangible that others can feel and experience. Whether through painting or poetry, my goal is to evoke emotion, to create spaces for reflection, and to honor the complexities of our shared human experience. This intersection of spirituality, grief, and art is where I feel most alive, and it’s what I strive to share through everything I create.

What matters most to you? Why?

What matters most to me is creating work that resonates deeply with the raw, unvarnished truths of the human experience. I believe in honoring the full spectrum of emotions—grief, joy, love, anger, and everything in between—because these are the threads that connect us. Art and storytelling are my ways of holding space for these emotions, both for myself and for others, and offering a window into the beauty that can be found in even the most challenging moments. I’ve come to understand that our pain, no matter how overwhelming, holds the potential for transformation and growth.

Authenticity is a cornerstone of my life and work. It’s not just about being honest in what I create—it’s about dismantling the social paradigms and masks that we all wear, stripping away pretense, and showing up as my most true self. This practice of authenticity isn’t always easy, especially when fear or self-doubt threatens to take over, but it’s where I find my power, my freedom, and my connection to the world. By embracing vulnerability, I’ve come to understand that we all carry pieces of ourselves we may have kept hidden, and when we let those pieces emerge, we create space for healing and deeper connection.

Equally important to me is the idea of transformation—taking pain, loss, and longing and turning them into something meaningful. I’ve come to see grief not as something to escape, but as a force of profound change and growth. It’s messy, heavy, and complex, but it’s also deeply human. Through my ongoing project, The Tenth Circle, I’m exploring this very idea—giving voice and life to the visceral experience of grief and its capacity to shape us. My work seeks to honor grief as part of the human journey, not something to be dismissed or avoided. Instead, I’ve learned to view it as a catalyst for growth, as something that can lead us toward a deeper understanding of ourselves and our place in the world.

Ultimately, what matters most to me is the ability to connect—whether it’s through a painting, a poem, or a conversation. I want my work to create a space where others feel seen, heard, and understood, and to encourage them to embrace their own authentic selves. Art has the power to heal, transform, and unite, and it’s this belief that drives everything I do. Whether it’s in my creative practice or in the connections I build, fostering a sense of belonging and empathy is at the core of what I strive for.

What fuels my passion is the shared humanity we all carry—our struggles, our triumphs, and the stories that shape us. My work seeks to illuminate those stories, offering a lens through which others can reflect on their own journeys of loss, healing, and self-discovery. In a world where so much is often hidden beneath surface-level expectations, I want my art to be a reminder that we are all connected through the deeper, often messy, truths of our shared experiences.

Pricing:

• Tarot Readings start at $50
• Intuitive Art Sessions start at $125 for a 3 card pull
• Custom Intuitive Paintings– Inquire Within
• High Grade Giclée Prints– Inquire Within

Contact Info:

• Website: https://latelierdevereaux.com
• Instagram: https://instagram.com/syndevereaux
• LinkedIn: https://www.linkedin.com/in/syn-devereaux/
• Other: https://syndie.substack.com/?utm_source=substack&utm_medium=web&utm_campaign=substack_profile

Image Credits

All images are of my own/by Syn Devereaux/Syndie Lynn