Jennifer Leigh Harrison’s paintings are dense with movement. Color and texture gather into mosaic-like fields, as if they have been fractured and reformed. There are places in the work where a frenetic buzz seems trapped between the canvas and the first layer of paint. That energy runs through Patterns of Belonging, her current exhibition at SPACE by FINERIE, where several years of large-scale paintings and hand-printed textiles explore belonging, ecology, and the human condition.
Some pieces are bright and airy, while others use muted pastels and darker tones. Harrison works with acrylic, oil, and encaustic, building surfaces that reflect her interest in our layered interior lives. Her practice also includes performance, installation, and poetry, and her background as a psychotherapist and social worker informs her attention to the emotions and experiences that shape us.
“I hope people understand that the work isn’t illustrating social issues—it is wrestling with them,” Harrison says. “It’s difficult for me to separate the art I make from the life I live. Whether the work is deeply personal or engages broader social questions, it grows from the same place: a desire to understand what it means to be human.”
Her 2025 CoCA exhibition, I’m Trying to Tell You Something, addressed gender-based violence through an installation containing 4,970 hand-pinned flowers, one for each woman documented as having been murdered in the United States in 2021.
Patterns of Belonging includes pieces that have not been publicly shown since 2024 and leads into Harrison’s next major project, a solo exhibition opening at ARTS at King Street Station in February 2027.
Patterns of Belonging is on view through August 31 at SPACE by FINERIE.
Hometown:
Georgia
Discipline:
Interdisciplinary artist
Favorite spot in Seattle:
Humble Pie
Detail of Like I’m On Fire, 2024, by Jennifer Leigh Harrison.
Photo by Films About Artists
Describe your work in three words.
Archival protest art.
When did you know you wanted to be an artist?
I don’t think it’s something you know once. I think it’s something you affirm over and over throughout your life. Every new body of work asks the same question: Do you still want to make art? For me, that’s like asking whether I still want to breathe.
Like I’m On Fire, 2024, by Jennifer Leigh Harrison.
Photo by Films About Artists
Where do you find inspiration?
Movement. Poetry. Dance. Music. The natural world. And people who refuse to look away from injustice.
Tell us about your proudest moment as an artist.
Pride is fleeting for me. Every new body of work brings a moment of gratitude before I begin questioning everything again. Right now, I’m proud of Patterns of Belonging at SPACE by FINERIE—a 5,000-square-foot installation bringing together several years of painting. Seeing the work occupy that scale has been deeply meaningful.
Endangered Lotus Study by Jennifer Leigh Harrison.
Photo by Films About Artists
Share one piece of advice you wish you knew when you were first starting out.
Criticism is an honorary badge of being an artist. Embrace it. Expect it. Let it sharpen your work rather than diminish your courage.
Snow Song, 2024, by Jennifer Leigh Harrison.
Photo by Films About Artists
What do you still hope to accomplish?
I hope to keep building projects that extend beyond the gallery walls. My upcoming 2027 exhibition at King Street Station will bring together painting, performance, public conversations, and community organizations working to address gender-based violence. I’m increasingly interested in creating spaces where art becomes a catalyst for dialogue, witness, and action.
If you weren’t making art, what would you be doing?
Writing. Probably a book of essays, poetry, or both.
