Celestial Brushstrokes:
The Divine Alchemy of Candi Soul Sparkles
by Viviana Puello.
When color becomes prayer, and light turns into revelation.
Some art speaks. Some art sings. But Candi Soul Sparkles’ work? It breathes. Each piece exhales a sacred energy, an unseen force that seeps through layers of pastel light and electric hues. Her canvases don’t just sit still—they pulse, shift, and vibrate like echoes of something eternal. This isn’t mere pigment on a surface; it’s a celestial transmission, an invitation into a realm where heaven meets earth, where light bends into emotion, where form surrenders to pure sensation.
Step closer. No, closer still. Let your eyes adjust to the glow. Her art isn’t just meant to be observed—it’s meant to be felt. A whisper of powdery blues and sugar-dusted pinks lifts off the surface like the first breath of dawn. Ethereal swirls of golden light weave through cascades of neon, each shade carrying the weight of an unspoken story. The edges blur, dissolve, then reform—like a memory being rewritten in real-time. You are not just looking; you are witnessing something alive.
There is an undeniable rhythm to her work, an echo of something higher. It’s as if divine hands reach through her own, guiding each brushstroke, each delicate motion. Some artists chase perfection. Candi doesn’t. She chases truth. She allows color to emerge organically, to morph into visions that refuse to be named but insist on being known. She does not paint objects—she paints energy.
There is a softness, a warmth in her compositions, but make no mistake—her art is not passive. It commands. It challenges. It beckons the viewer into a space of radical openness, where the soul is stripped of pretense and left exposed, vulnerable, luminous.
She creates in the presence of light, with the elements as her silent collaborators. The golden kiss of the sun, the hush of snowfall, the flicker of firelight—these are not just inspirations; they are co-creators, weaving their essence into her pigments. And then there’s the music, the soundtrack to her alchemy. Fleetwood Mac, Prince, Icelandic melodies, bossa nova—it all melts into the canvas, vibrating beneath layers of iridescence. The art hums with this unseen harmony, as if sound itself had been transmuted into color.
She calls herself a tiny Icelandic girl painting, but let’s be real—there is nothing tiny about the presence of her work. It expands, fills the room, and lingers long after you’ve turned away. It is not content to be admired; it wants to enter you, to stay, to become part of your own spiritual landscape.
The beauty of Candi’s work is that it defies definition. It belongs to no genre, no school, no movement. And yet, it belongs everywhere. In a world obsessed with labels, she refuses to be categorized. Painter? Sculptor? Visionary? Dreamweaver? She is all of it, and none of it. She is simply creating, because creation itself is an act of worship.
Her art has already begun its quiet revolution, finding its way into the hearts of collectors and dreamers alike. It does not conform. It does not seek approval. And yet, it connects—deeply, viscerally, undeniably.
So what does one take away from a piece by Candi Soul Sparkles? A sense of peace. A sense of wonder. A moment of stillness in a world that rarely stops spinning.
She does not just make art—she makes portals. Step through, and you just might find yourself standing in a place you never knew you needed to be.
Stay inspired.

Viviana Puello
Editor-in-Chief