Today we’d like to introduce you to Alicia Ethridge.
Hi Alicia, please kick things off for us with an introduction to yourself and your story.
I am a mixed-media collage artist and oil painter based in York, Maine. Originally from Northern New Jersey, I grew up in an artistic family, cultivating a deep connection to the creative process. Since relocating to Maine in 2008, I have honed a contemplative art practice that is not only central to my work but also to my spiritual journey.
In 2014, I was initiated as an artmonk in the Interspiritual Order of Art Monastics, and in 2024, I was certified as a Soul Friend—offering spiritual companionship to those seeking deeper connection with themselves and the Divine. This integration of spirituality and creativity is at the heart of my artistic expression, which I believe holds transformative, healing potential for both the artist and the viewer.
My artistic journey was profoundly shaped by personal experience, especially the challenging and transformative time when my son was born with congenital heart disease, requiring a life-saving heart transplant. His hospital room walls became a canvas for hope and resilience, inspiring my to return to painting as a means of processing this powerful experience.
A dedicated believer in the healing power of art, I also worked a social worker, using expressive arts in therapy to address collective trauma and loss. My current artwork explores themes of maternal experience, myth, dreams, nature, and the magic found in everyday life. I am a founding member of the SEVEN artists collective and continue to create and engage with the Maine arts community from my studio in York.
We all face challenges, but looking back would you describe it as a relatively smooth road?
Along my journey as an artist, I’ve encountered times of overwhelm—struggling with the need to produce, the inability to carve out time for my work while juggling the responsibilities of motherhood, the exasperating feeling of powerlessness in parenting a medically complex child, and the immense grief of losing my beloved mother.
Through my spiritual practice, I’ve undergone a deep and transformative process to overcome overwhelm and anxiety, learning to embrace stillness and listen—to both the world around me and my own inner rhythm. My connection with the natural world—through birdwatching, sketching, and simply being in the presence of animals and plants—has taught me to surrender to the flow of life. After the recent passing of my mother, I explored my relationship with water and impermanence, forging an intimate and healing bond with both grief and beauty.
In moments of struggle, I used to resist stillness and surrender, especially when pulled by the expectations of productivity and duty. But I’ve come to realize that those quiet moments of observation and disassembling are precisely what I need to make space for renewal and deep connection.
I’ve learned to weave grief into my creative practice, shaping my work to honor both my personal experience and the wisdom passed down through my ancestors. My connection to my mother, through water, has become a powerful symbol of life, love, and memory.
I’m still learning to take pain—which often leads to isolation—and transform it into something others can experience and connect with. I aim to create a bridge between my own heart and the hearts of others, using art as the medium. By integrating my ceremonies with water, impermanence, and symbols from nature, I channel this energy into something that holds both beauty and depth.
Transmuting pain into beauty isn’t always an easy path. It’s a delicate balance, as I walk the line between honoring grief and not being consumed by it. Yet through my work, I’m learning to cradle it gently, making space for it to evolve into something more expansive.
Thanks for sharing that. So, maybe next you can tell us a bit more about your work?
One aspect of my creative practice that sets me apart is the realization that art and prayer share a profound similarity. Both are rooted in intense encounters that require a surrender of will, openness to inspiration, and a deep engagement with mystery. Through my spiritual studies, I’ve learned to draw from rituals of various wisdom traditions and also create my own ceremonies to inform and inspire my art.
Lectio Divina is a grounding ritual I often use. In this practice, I allow words and intention to settle into my body, creating a space where I can fully embody whatever I am channeling—whether it’s a feeling, an ancestor, an animal, or the divine. This subtle yet profound ritual prepares me for my work, allowing me to center myself before diving into the flow of painting or drawing. It invites a deeper presence into my practice, opening space for something much bigger than technique or outcome.
I also turn to poems and prayers as incantations, creating an atmosphere of reverence that sets a sacred tone before I begin creating. It feels as though I’m not only painting or drawing with my hands, but also weaving together the energy of these words, the power of my intention, and the ancestral spirits who guide me.
Inspired by the earth-body work of Cuban-American artist Ana Mendieta, I created Flower Bodies, a series of nature-spirit installations that emerged intuitively after the death of my mother in 2023.
Several months after her passing, I had a profound encounter with her spirit during a reiki session. In a dream-like state, my body dissolved into pink flower petals, floating on the ocean. Longing to feel my mother’s embrace, the mist and clouds around me took on her form, and I was held so tenderly.
This encounter inspired me to gather peony flowers from my garden and take them to a sacred spot by the river, where I often see the outline of Mother Mary. As I placed the petals among the vibrant marsh grasses, a thick mist enveloped me, and I felt my mother’s presence all around me.
This marked the beginning of a new creative and spiritual practice. I began to form human bodies in repose, made from flower petals and found objects. Forest streams, vernal pools, ponds, and the ocean cradled these bodies. The act of creating them brought me closer to my grief while also soothing my heart.
As the seasons changed, so did the materials I used. With the shift from summer to autumn, new life bloomed while some withered. I began incorporating goldenrod, Rose of Sharon, Queen Anne’s lace, shells, driftwood, grasses, and broken objects that captured my heart. New bodies took form, each unique to its natural environment.
Through creative contemplation, we can continue to nurture our connection with deceased loved ones. This body of work deeply reflects the foundational values of my practice: that we have the capacity to heal ourselves through the making of art.
Where we are in life is often partly because of others. Who/what else deserves credit for how your story turned out?
My family of origin — are all exceptional artists in their own right. Growing up in a home where creative expression was celebrated taught me the fluid relationship between art and lived experience. My dad and brother are my art transport and installation team, and I couldn’t have shared my work without their unwavering support. My mother was a prolific artist who found beauty in the most unexpected places. I grew up visiting museums and had access to the materials in her studio. I’ll never forget the John Mitchell retrospective at the Whitney Museum of American Art in NYC in 2002 — her painting Hemlock inspired me to become an artist.
My husband, son and daughter— provide endless love, support, and inspiration for my paintings. Like my mother did for me, my children share my studio space. I painted while bound to them in their infancy, and they continue to show up at countless art openings and museum trips.
I’m deeply grateful for the mentorship and guidance of Meg Vellejos McCoy, Michel Droge, Martha Miller, and Jeane Cohen. Their encouragement, critical insight, and open hearts gave me the confidence and skills to dive deep into my imagination and build new worlds on the canvas.
I’m also thankful for the galleries and museums in New Hampshire and Maine that have showcased my work over the years, particularly Katzman Contemporary Projects, the RMFA, the George Marshall Store Gallery, the Parsonage Gallery, and Blue Door Gallery. Their incredible support has helped my work gain recognition both locally and beyond.
Contact Info:
- Website: https://www.aliciaethridge.com
- Instagram: @aliciaethridge










