The Exchange: Kiri Theory — Color, Craft, and the Magic of Making
There are some artists whose work feels like a portal — not just something to look at, but something to experience.
Kiri is one of those artists.
She moves through the creative world like a storyteller who happens to speak fluent iridescence, fluent color science, fluent whimsy. She’s the kind of maker who will casually explain the emotional psychology of purple-and-yellow contrast, then hand you a swatch that shifts from aqua to violet to something you didn’t even know existed yet.
When I first came across her work, I felt that spark — that immediate sense of Oh. She sees the world the way color sees light.
She creates art, craft, paints, interactive materials, and objects infused with delight, curiosity, and a little bit of cosmic mischief.
Her answers made me laugh out loud, tear up, and pause in the best ways.
This interview is for anyone who remembers the magic of their first art class…
…for anyone who hoards weird thrifted objects “just in case”…
…for anyone who’s ever tried to make something joyful out of something heavy.
Color-shifting paints created by Kiri Theory
Q. What would you say was your gateway creative outlet?
A. Color! My 6th-grade art teacher, Ms. Napoli, had us do a project that will be a core memory for the rest of my life, maybe longer. We made overlapping lines in abstract patterns, and were each assigned a set of complementary colors to fill it in with. My colors were purple and yellow. Her point was that seeing the contrast of the colors together enhances their beauty. So vibrant contrast is at the heart of my style, no matter what I am making. After that came fashion magazines and colorful editorial makeup. I got into the artistry of it all. I’ll never forget the moment I discovered duo-chrome eye shadow, an aqua to violet shift. I was smitten by the effect. From that moment, I compulsively studied every color-shifting material I could get my hands on and chose color science courses in college. I was determined to explore the hues outside of the traditional color wheel.
Also, I have to mention how important the theater was and still is. Puppetry especially. The experience I had working on props and sets is precious to me. I cannot express how important puppetry is to the survival and well-being of humanity. Puppetry could save us all. I’m not even a puppeteer, I just think it’s that important.
Q. How would you describe what you create to someone who’s never seen your work?
A. I craft special effects paints, art materials, and original art with a variety of media to incite joy and contemplation through dramatic color movement and contrast, complexity, light effects, and audience participation. The most impactful theater productions welcome the audience to play their part in the show. If beauty is in the eye of the beholder, my better work invites the viewer to be an active participant one way or another.
Q. What materials or tools do you feel most connected to right now?
A. Special effects pigments, paper, junk, and weird things I find in thrift shops, textiles, sparkles, ink, metal ruler + Olfa knife, silhouette scissors, various fibers, rhinestones and embellishments, and paint and ink, of course. Materials can be perilously inspiring.
Q. Is there a piece or project that changed how you see yourself as an artist?
“Painting in the Dark” is a piece that I intended to be a trivial fun piece just to loosen up my perfectionism, but by the time the work was finished, it showed me how much power and immortality we have when we simply make a thing. It showed me we can literally make fear and sorrow into joy. I started out just scribbling on a panel with some favorite colors, spaced out whenever I worked on it, and by the time the panel was full and balanced, it looked like an image of outer space made from colorful candy. Space terrifies me, and one of my worst fears is to be on a spaceship, far from Earth. I understand the appeal, but it’s simply not my jam. “Gravity” was a horror movie for me.
But that painting was cheerful and shimmering, I wouldn’t mind floating through it. So that celestial piece helped me understand what it is about making that is so critical. Most of us have to spend our lives in survival mode, caring for or fulfilling the vision of others. “Painting in the Dark” helped me realize that when we create something, a song, a pie, a garden, art, a sock puppet with a kid – it’s a radiant repossession of power. Sharing that with other people can carry on for eternity. It doesn’t matter if the art is “recognized” or not. I promise you that the art of a grandmother teaching kids how to make votives with tissue paper on baby food jars will reverberate at least as long as the treasures in our museums.
Q. When do ideas come to you — slowly over time, or in quick bursts?
A. Constantly and in overwhelmingly abundant bursts, it has always been this way. Because my design training was so iterative and process-focused, the ideas multiply like bunnies, and I have to find a way to feed them all. I must be a glutton for punishment because, despite this, I still go looking for more inspiration in what down time I have. So I am training myself to stop looking for new ideas and get more inspired by the piles of projects I’ve left to fester in my workspace and the deep recesses of my journals. I am scrambling to fit an eternity of ideas into a lifetime. I could be wrong but I think most creatives feel this way. No pressure!
Q. How has your practice evolved, and where do you see it heading?
A. I chose to study design because every mass-produced object at the time seemed joyless and generic. My goal was to bring art and delight to banal things. Did refrigerators really need to fade into boredom? They take up such a big, precious footprint. Please cover them in children’s artwork! But many aren’t even magnetic anymore. In my heart, I felt a stronger pull toward the study of craft. As enamored as I was with the field, it bothered me that at the time, most of those items were put on display and never once used. So I chose design, with the secret intention of circling back to craft and injecting user experience and functionality.
In school, my professor, Hy Zelkowitz, assigned us an essay by Octavio Paz, “Seeing and Using: Art and Craftsmanship”. This is absolutely one of the most meaningful things I have ever read. It discusses the differing purpose of art vs. design, vs. craft. If you read it, it will move you. The wisdom of that essay influences everything I do, even though I’m still moving between the three. The voids that separate them are starting to be cultivated by contemporary creatives, and that fills me with optimism.
I think that is part of the evolution we need right now. As far as where this has my practice heading, it is finding a way to hybridize these three and incorporate an aesthetic of surprise and delight. I am designing things that I craft myself, such as color-shifting paint and patterned craft supplies, with the hope that others will use them to make art and craft. The patterns are mostly comprised of photographs of my original art and the natural world, which I manipulate into oblivion with photo editing software. There is also a growing collective desire for human imperfection, nostalgia, and analog existence, which I find inspiring, so that will be central to my practice going forward.
Q. What’s your studio or workspace vibe — quiet, chaotic, ritualistic, spontaneous?
A. If chaos were sentient, it would take a look at my studio and lose all sense of purpose. Well, maybe chaos is sentient, actually, or do I have it confused with entropy? Maybe the two are the same? Perhaps I should make this question into some art. Either way, they must not have visited my studio yet. Because if they had, they’d probably cease to exist. But then maybe my studio would be more organized. What I am pleased with is that despite the chaos, everyone who’s been here says, “You know, it’s an absolute mess, but it’s a bright, cheerful mess and somehow I still feel good being in this room.”
Q. Do you have any habits or routines that help you get into a creative flow?
A. Yes, it all starts with coffee and a material experiment. The most creative days start when I test out some ideas for combining and manipulating materials for unique color effects or projects. It gives me something to get excited about, and it’s a fantastic anti-scroll. When I’m in a color-making mode, I test out a few pigment combinations and swatch them on black, grey, and white cards. Then I get to my pile of works in progress, design work, or do boring shop admin while they dry.
Q. What part of the process do you love most — and which part do you wrestle with?
A. Coming up with new ideas, the experiments at the beginning, and the satisfaction of completing a long-term project and finding out what people think of it are definitely the most fun! In short, the beginning and the end are what I live for. I have a hard time editing my project docket and niching down. I can do it for finite periods, but at some point, something different has to come into play.
It will always be brightly colored and iridescent, though! Finding the direction and meaning for a work after starting it does take effort, but that part isn’t the most difficult challenge. I struggle immensely with the last 25% of a project. That’s when I have to fight perfectionism and fear of ruining it. People might think you can’t “ruin” non-representational art or abstracts, but I have absolutely done that, and it proves that this type of art has purpose.
Q. How do you know when a piece is finished?
A. You know, that’s one of the trickiest things. I look for balance in the composition and harmonious contrast in the colors and texture. Do the forms move and relate in an interesting way? I can start a painting with one intention, and the art develops a mind of its own, often far removed from my original intent. So lately I start with a materials experiment and let the work show me where it wants to go. Or I start with a clear idea but let it evolve into what it wants to be. Often a deeper meaning reveals itself, but not always, and that’s okay. Art should not be too intimidating anyway; it should respect its audience enough to converse with them. Decorative art is enough. Decoration exhibits blissful humility and invokes enjoyment even in the darkest times.
When I’m formulating paint colors, there are specific metrics. By the time the formula is almost done, I’ve got dozens of swatches. The final swatch has to reveal at least two distinct hues, preferably more. There is no point for me to release a color that already exists in the market. Some of the colors have to mimic the thing that inspired them, such as the opal colors. Then they get tested on different materials and background colors. When the formula meets these and quality metrics, it is ready to be scaled up and jarred.
Q. Is there a recurring theme or symbol that keeps reappearing in your work, even when you don’t plan it?
A. Yes, definitely! Usually, the inspiration is some type of enjoyable experience, such as color, water, light, gardens, organic forms, or nostalgic imagery. Things I fear creep in, such as non-existence, the dark void of space, a journey into the unknown, and complete isolation. Maybe that’s just me. There is no shortage of things to fear, and people are understandably stressed out. My work seems to want to process that reality by leaning into it and inserting cheerfulness into that place, or by visualizing it with a strangely comforting mood, even when it still feels eerie. It often shows that the things we don’t fully comprehend might not be what we want them to be, but that they also might be better than what we can imagine.
Patterned craft paper, an art print, and holographic aurora paper, by Kiri Theory
Q. How has your creative community (online or offline) shaped your evolution as an artist?
A. Right now, my creative community is mostly online, and they are precious to me. I recently found a handful of artists online who I connect with on a creative level, and the encouragement, support, enjoyment, and inspiration I get from them have worked wonders for me and my practice. Even though I can be a homebody, communication and connection are an important part of my process. Knowing that there are other people out there having a meaningful experience with the things I make is critical for me. It gives me purpose and motivation. It is a conversation that is just getting started. It’s also wonderful to have friends, of course!
Q. What role does collaboration or feedback play in your work?
A. Design is nothing if the end users don’t understand it, and we all have blind spots. So I seek feedback when I’m working on design-oriented things like papercraft designs, paint colors, patterns, product packaging, and functional crafts. I ask my husband, who is also a designer, and my online creative community because they are so insightful! I’m completely fascinated by the collaborative aspect of the junk journaling and papercraft community. Art supplies & inspiration kits are my way of curating a project and then sending it out for someone else to craft into their own vision. I’m hoping to develop some interactive art or craft going forward where the viewer feels like a collaborator, but I am planning to release more paint colors and craft materials before I start those projects.
Q. How do you balance the personal meaning of your art with how others interpret it?
A. I am going to learn something from and connect with a viewer, even if they interpret it differently than I intended. Life is short, and we waste so much of it. For someone to pause even for a moment and spend any amount of their precious time looking at and thinking about my art, and then to spend yet more time letting me know what it means to them – that holds as much value to me as I hope my art gives to them.
Q. Has your relationship with art changed over time — and if so, how?
A. Yes and no. It’s always heavily influenced by the effects of color on our emotions. It will continue to go through phases where the intent and method are dramatically different from one collection or project to another. Art to me is all about trying new and different things, to learn, communicate, connect, and live as much as we can.
Q. What message, mood, or memory do you hope your art leaves behind?
A. Making a spark is eternal, and that time is well spent.
Ask Forward, Receive Back
A tradition inside The Exchange: each artist leaves a question for the next, creating an unbroken chain of curiosity, reflection, and creative lineage.
Chunky Brewster’s Question → For Kiri
“What headspace were you in when you created some of your best work? How were you feeling? How were you approaching the process? What was going on with you as a whole during the creation?”
Kiri‘s Answer
When I think of the handful of works I consider to be my best, the headspace that I start them from and continue them in has actually been wildly variable. Some have started with anger and frustration, some start from the desire to empty my mind of everyday noise, and many start from the curiosity of wondering what would happen if I combine certain materials and techniques in a new way. The thing that is constant, though, is that with all of them, I have had a not-too-small chunk of hours in a row to really tune out from all the stress and distractions and focus completely on getting the art from my brain to the medium in my hands. Good work takes time.
On more than one occasion, I approached the piece with the intention that it would be lighthearted, low effort, and decorative, pretty much a warm-up so that I don’t get too precious about it, so that I can then get to the “important work”. Those efforts usually fail miserably as I get into flow and my subconscious starts inserting ideas into what I’m working on, often without my waking mind realizing what it’s about until I pause and come back to look at it. So I’m learning to embrace this approach.
I hadn’t painted in a while because of caregiving responsibilities, so I expected to be a bit rusty. The work left me pleasantly surprised.
Follow along to see what Kiri asks the next artist as this chain of creative curiosity continues.
Thank you to Kiri Theory for sharing her time, words, and world.
You can find more of her work on Instagram @kiritheory
Shop- www.kiritheory.com
Stay tuned for the next installment of The Exchange — more artists, more conversations, more creative fuel.
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