We recently connected with Laura Pellegrino and have shared our conversation below.

Alright, Laura thanks for taking the time to share your stories and insights with us today. Do you wish you had waited to pursue your creative career or do you wish you had started sooner?

I never truly stopped creating — I just stopped sharing. Dance was my first language, and in college and beyond, it was how I expressed myself professionally. But my curiosity always went beyond movement. I was fascinated by building entire environments: movement, light, texture, and emotion layered through immersive installations. I explored that in school with tools like MAX/MSP, but life pulled me into a more conventional path after a health shift — and eventually into a career in tech as a Product Manager.

Looking back, I don’t regret the time I spent in the tech world — it became a form of research. I learned how people interact with systems, how to build from nothing, and how iteration is a strength. That foundation has deeply influenced my creative process today. But I do wish I had been braver about sharing along the way. Creativity is a muscle that strengthens with exposure. I think if I had treated my work as worth sharing, not just processing, earlier on — I would have built stronger bridges of connection much sooner. Still, the time away gave me a deeper well to draw from. Now, I create with more urgency, more clarity, and more joy. Our paths aren’t always linear, but they’re always rich with material.

Awesome – so before we get into the rest of our questions, can you briefly introduce yourself to our readers.

I’m a multidisciplinary creative working at the intersection of story, structure, embodiment, and technology. I started as a dancer and performance artist, drawn to immersive storytelling through movement and installation. Over time, my practice has expanded to include writing, sculpture, user research, and creative product development. I’ve self-published a children’s book with a second on the way, created large-scale installations including a gymnasium-sized participatory experience, and am now developing somatic-based series that explore how breath, visualization, and movement create internal shifts in the body.

At the heart of my work is a deep curiosity — a desire to explore themes through multiple mediums. My creative questions often begin as a feeling, a tension, or a piece of research. I then explore how that idea might express itself: sometimes through movement, sometimes through video or photography, and other times through writing, physical materials, or interactive software. I work with programs like MAX/MSP and am currently diving into TouchDesigner, using them to create dynamic, sensory-rich environments where story and emotion are layered through audio, light, and responsive visuals.

Sculpture, in particular, has become a powerful form for me — a way to translate abstract ideas into material form. A washed-up coral fan inspired my 2023 piece Drunk Bay I found on St. John’s Island. Built with metal, wood, and aluminum, it became a meditation on grief and resilience, mirroring the fragility and transformation of our coral reefs. The process of bending and weaving the materials mirrored the emotional landscape I was navigating at the time.

In 2024, I created Nacre, a body of work reflecting on labor, value, and creative depletion — born during unemployment and personal questioning. Inspired by oysters farmed to produce pearls and then discarded, the piece was built from found objects and remnants of past cycles: scratch-off tickets, mosquito netting, mirror shards, door knobs. It asked: What happens when we are no longer producing something deemed valuable? How do we reclaim worth outside of output?

What sets me apart is not just the variety of mediums I work in, but the way I follow ideas across disciplines. I’m constantly learning as I go — whether it’s sculpting, coding, or illustrating. I embrace experimentation. When I couldn’t afford an illustrator for my first children’s book, I used my interest in AI and prompt engineering to bring it to life. I’m resourceful, often building from what’s at hand, but I also value collaboration and am excited to bring in others who have honed their craft in ways I haven’t. Every project is a living organism — evolving as it moves through new contexts, technologies, and collaborators.

Ultimately, my work is about process and transformation. I rarely see a piece as “finished.” Each one is an invitation — to reflect, to feel, to question. I create in hopes of making space for others to recognize parts of themselves, and I stay open to where the work wants to go next. That’s what excites me most: not defining what I do with a label, but staying in motion, led by curiosity and intention.

What do you find most rewarding about being a creative?

For me, it’s the transformation — taking something abstract like an emotion, a memory, or a striking experience, and channeling it into form. That process of shaping something personal into something shareable is deeply cathartic. But the real magic happens in the exchange: when someone sees themselves in the work, reflects something back, or starts a conversation I never could’ve imagined. That’s when the work becomes alive — not just something I made, but something that invites meaning beyond me. That shared resonance, that ripple — that’s what keeps me coming back to the work.

Is there something you think non-creatives will struggle to understand about your journey as a creative? Maybe you can provide some insight – you never know who might benefit from the enlightenment.

I think many people struggle with the idea of not staying in one lane. We’re conditioned to pursue security, clarity, and titles that fit neatly into a box. But my creative life is driven by curiosity, not convention. I don’t always know what shape a project will take when I start, and sometimes what I create is just a stepping stone to something else. That ambiguity can look like a lack of focus from the outside, but it’s actually a vital part of discovery. It’s also hard to explain how much unseen labor, vulnerability, and iteration goes into what appears effortless. Sharing creative work often means confronting perfectionism and fear, over and over again. But I’ve come to see the mess as part of the magic. I don’t create to impress — I create to understand, to connect, and to live more honestly.

Contact Info:

• Website: https://www.la-pelle.com
• Instagram: la.pelle_
• Linkedin: https://www.linkedin.com/in/lauranpellegrino/