Featured artist: Elsa Muñoz
Burning Branch, 24x36, oil on Ampersand Gessobord
When Ampersand President/CEO Elaine Salazar visited The United States and Mexico: A Powerful Past, A Shared Future, a U.S. State Department Art in Embassies exhibition in Mexico, she was struck by a powerful painting titled Primordial Conversations. Upon closer look, she realized it had been painted on Ampersand Gessobord. That moment of recognition led to a full-circle connection: the artist behind the piece was Elsa Muñoz, a former studio mate of Louise LeBourgeois, who had first introduced her to Ampersand panels years earlier. Elaine later purchased the painting, and it now hangs proudly in the gallery at Ampersand’s headquarters—a quiet reminder of the lasting bonds between artists, materials, and the stories they carry.
Primordial Conversations, 24x24, oil on Ampersand Gessobord
Q: Let’s start with how you and Claybord artist Louise LeBourgeois met and how her influence led you to discover Ampersand.
I was introduced to Louise LeBourgeois’s work as an undergrad by my professor, Blanca Lopez. I remember being blown away by her waterscapes as they felt inherently spiritual to me. I then remember writing to her and sharing how moved I was by her work, then timidly asking about painting materials directly. I was blown away by the generosity of her response. She told me about Ampersand Claybord and even elaborated about how she applies paint in layers on this beautiful, absorbent surface. It was love at first brushstroke!
Inner Flame 2, 30x30, oil on Ampersand Claybord
Q: You grew up in a place where access to nature was limited—how did that absence shape your desire to explore nature through your art, and how do you bridge that gap between memory, imagination, and the natural world in your work? Ecology and spirituality?
The more I mature in my practice, the deeper I root in gratitude for the conditions that made it possible for me to find my artistic path. Growing up on the South Side of Chicago, where access to nature was limited, I often experienced a profound sense of longing. That absence became a quiet but persistent guide, pointing me toward what my spirit was yearning for. It was precisely in that longing that I began to sense what I needed to seek. That yearning planted the seeds of a lifelong conversation with the natural world.
Longing and awe continue to drive my work. In many ways, my paintings are acts of imagination and devotion—bridges between memory, dream, and the real. Because I didn’t grow up immersed in nature, I had to learn to *feel* my way into it through books, dreams, and later, through pilgrimages to landscapes that felt resonant. My practice often begins in that liminal space—part remembered, part imagined, part observed—and this hybridity has become a kind of signature in my work.
Ecology and spirituality are deeply intertwined for me. I’m interested in the sacredness of land, in how the natural world can mirror our inner landscapes and act as a source of both knowledge and healing. I’m especially drawn to post-traumatic ecologies: places that have experienced fire, drought, or disturbance and still manage to regenerate. They speak to the possibility of renewal, both personal and collective.
The Din, 24x24, oil on Ampersand Gessobord
Q: How did reading as a child influence your imagination and creative voice, and are there particular stories or books that still echo in your work today?
I’m tired of pacing the petty round of the ring of the thing I know—
I want to stand on the daylight’s edge and see where the sunsets go.
I want to sail on a swallow’s tail and peep through the sky’s blue glass.
I want to see if the dreams in me shall perish or come to pass.
This poem captures the inner life I carried as a child—a yearning for wonder beyond the confines of what was immediately available to me. Poetry helped me cultivate an interior world rich with symbolism, mystery, and longing—qualities that now permeate my artwork.
Stories and poems like this one allowed me to move beyond the “ring of the thing I know” and glimpse something more expansive. They helped me locate beauty in the unseen and find language for what felt ineffable.
Writers like Toni Morrison and Clarissa Pinkola Estés helped shape not only my imagination but also my sense of mystery and spiritual inquiry. I was particularly drawn to stories where transformation was possible—stories where women and girls were connected to the land, to dreams, or hidden wisdom.
The Great Turning, 30x30, oil on Ampersand Claybord
Q: You once considered going into psychology. What led you to choose art instead, and does that interest still influence your work?
For those who believe in the concept of an “inner voice,” I had an uncanny experience one day during a psychology lecture. As I was taking notes in class, I suddenly had a strange, unsettling feeling followed by a firm “NO” that rattled powerfully in my body. I trusted that voice. I dropped out of school the next day and, long story short, had a “dark night of the soul” that lasted about six months. Eventually, my sister gave me a sketchbook to help me reconnect with the world around me, and it worked. The act of sketching brought me back to life. It was a vital clue.
Within days, we scheduled a visit to a small art school here in Chicago. Though I had never painted before, the smell of the oil painting class felt like coming home. There was no looking back!
Ghost, 16x20, oil on Ampersand Gessobord
Q: You grew up learning the term desahogamiento. Could you tell us about this, and does it influence the way you approach your work?
Yes—desahogamiento means to undrown yourself, to release what’s weighing on you emotionally. It’s a concept I grew up hearing, especially in the context of talking through your feelings with someone you trust. Painting, for me, has become a form of desahogamiento. It’s a space where I can process things that are too complex for words. It’s also a way to return to myself—gently, honestly. That emotional release, that letting go, is often what I hope viewers can also experience when they stand in front of my work.
Drifting Sun, 24x36, oil on Ampersand Gessobord
Q: Your paintings often depict powerful natural forces and quiet, elusive figures. How do these subjects reflect your experiences growing up on the south side of Chicago and your cultural identity?
I think growing up in a place where you’re both hypervisible and invisible at the same time shaped my sensitivity to silence, stillness, and strength. The figures in my work often reflect that paradox—they’re there but not quite present in a literal sense. They’re meditative, elusive, maybe even ghostlike. And the natural forces—fire, water, wind—carry a kind of rage and beauty that feels familiar to me, especially as a Latina navigating systems that weren’t built with me in mind. I’m drawn to those elemental forces because they represent resilience, transformation, and power that doesn’t ask for permission.
Zaguan, 16x16, oil on Ampersand Gessobord
Q: Can you tell us about any upcoming exhibitions or projects you’re excited to share?
Yes, I currently have a solo show titled Botánica Apokalíptica up at Pecha Projects in Columbus, Ohio. It’s a collection that explores speculative ecological futures through the lens of fire-following flowers—plants that bloom only after wildfire. It includes both paintings and sculptures, and it’s deeply rooted in my fascination with regrowth, destruction, and the sacred intelligence of nature. I’m also working on a series called Dreamwork, which draws from my personal dream imagery and explores the dream space as a decolonial, visionary space. Both projects feel like an excavation of the inner and outer worlds, and I’m excited to share them soon.
Artist Bio:
Elsa Muñoz is a Mexican-American artist born and raised on the South Side of Chicago (1983). Muñoz credits her interest in both nature and healing to her experience growing up in an underserved and often unsafe community with little access to green spaces. Having to spend most of her childhood indoors led to the cultivation of a rich inner world in which she was able to find beauty and sanctuary. Her work explores the threads connecting ecology, personal health, and spirituality.
Elsa received her BFA in oil painting from the American Academy of Art in 2006. She’s since had 11 solo shows, including one at the National Museum of Mexican Art (2011) and at the Union League Club of Chicago (2016), along with several group shows throughout the United States. She was recently awarded a SPARK Grant from the Chicago Artists Coalition (2022) and was the recipient of the Helen and Tim Meier Foundation For The Arts Achievement Award (2019). Notable collections include the DePaul Art Museum (Chicago), the National Museum of Mexican Art (Chicago), and the private collection of Martin Castro, Chairman of the U.S. Commission on Civil Rights under President Barack Obama. To see more of Elsa's work, visit her website, Instagram, and Facebook.
