Amber Larks is a Los Angeles-based oil painter whose work focuses on the relationships between science, the human condition and the metaphysical realm. She works to create pieces that encourage reflection on possibilities beyond our comprehension with nods to science fiction and surrealism. The imagery in her work often stems from the subconscious and hypnagogia- the transitional state of consciousness between wake and sleep. At eighteen, Amber set her sights on the Pacific Northwest to attend college. She graduated from Washington State University with a business degree and emphasis in fine arts, but is self taught in oil painting. She later moved to Seattle to pursue painting before returning home to southern California. She has shown her work throughout California and Washington and has been published in a variety of art journals and contemporary art blogs including ArtMaze Magazine, Friend of the Artist, and Visionary Art Collective. She has also been profiled by the Los Angeles Times and enjoys using her artwork as a means to help. With her work, she has supported NAACP, Seattle’s Facing Homelessness, Seattle’s Youthcare for homeless teens, ACLU, Amazon Conservation Association, COVID-19 Response Fund for WHO, and the Chinese American Museum.
My newest works center around mysterious glitches, shimmers, and waves of light. I’ve been interested in light since childhood, when I first learned that the light we see from stars belongs to the past. Since I did not grow up in a religious household, science and its possibilities have been a refuge to my unanswered questions.
Little Blue Star and Black Hole are part of my Projection Series, which explores the possibilities of higher dimensional beings. I was inspired by a video clip of Carl Sagan explaining how a two dimensional being could not fully perceive a three dimensional being. The figures in these paintings are recognizable, but off-kilter enough to question their actuality, purpose, and intention. I’m curious how humanity would react to seeing an anomaly like this. Would we be humbled? Frustrated? Enchanted? Threatened? Would it bring us together or tear us apart? Would it give us answers or create an endless stream of questions? Perhaps it would be a mixture of it all.
Sink or Swim further experiments into abstraction and the human condition. I often visualize my feelings, and this painting represents the sensation of feeling “stuck”. This piece shows the viewer a way out, but it’s a long way to the surface, and a lot of work to get there. Regardless of an intimidating journey ahead, the viewer has a choice and there is a way. Here, I use light again as a beacon- a possibility to what lies beyond.