From Chaos to Cosmos:
The Intuitive Worlds of Kari Veastad
by Viviana Puello.
What if the soul had color? What if you could map your internal terrain—not in words, but in swirls, pulses, and waves?
Step into the world of Kari Veastad, and you don’t just look at a painting—you feel it unfolding. Her work is not about what you see, but what you sense—the barely speakable emotional shifts, the quiet reckoning of self with self, the dance between chaos and clarity. This is art as internal cartography. Art as movement. Art as energy.
“I love to play with colors,” she says. “My colors and hands take me on a joyous and unfamiliar journey through inner and outer landscapes.”
And this journey—intimate, untamed, and often unplanned—is what makes her work so magnetic.
A Language of Emotional Presence
Kari Veastad’s paintings don’t aim to impress—they invite. Each work emerges not from performance, but from deep, honest reflection. Her creative process is guided by something beyond the intellect—a visceral, soulful knowing that moves through color and form.
“I create with no plan,” she says. “It will be as it will be without me making any plan in advance. The paintings are made in an intuitive way, and I use the color I want at that time.”
There’s no script. No template. Just a willingness to enter the unknown with open hands and trust what unfolds. Her process is instinctual, present, embodied—art made in conversation with something unseen.
From Personal to Universal
Even as her work is born from personal experience, it opens a space for shared resonance.
“The painting often draws attention to the inner wealth of man,” she explains. “I intend to inspire you to open up and pay attention to your inner landscape for reflection and movement.”
That’s the generosity behind her art. It doesn’t speak at you—it speaks with you. Her paintings don’t dictate meaning; they hold it, waiting for you to discover your own.
A Playful Path to Profoundness
Creation begins in play. Kari approaches the canvas with curiosity, letting her hands and colors lead.
“I start to play with color without thinking what to do,” she says. “It’s a playful journey for a while before I start to see something in the picture. I follow it, I work with it, and I spend a lot of time finalizing it.”
It’s this freedom at the beginning—and focus in the end—that gives her work its emotional range. It breathes. It listens. It evolves. And when it’s ready, the painting reveals its name—not as a label, but as a recognition.
The Naming of the Invisible
Titles like The Fight, Human Love, From Chaos to Cosmos feel less like explanations and more like translations. They don’t answer questions—they deepen them.
Sometimes the meaning is clear from the start. Sometimes it emerges mid-process. And other times, the work itself becomes the teacher.
“Often I have learned a lot in the process,” she says. “The image gives words to what I am not aware of—or cannot explain.”
In this way, her paintings become more than expressions. They become revelations—of energy, of truth, of insight waiting to surface.
From Chaos, a Cosmos
To encounter From Chaos to Cosmos is to witness transformation made visible. What begins as disorder becomes rhythm. What feels uncertain becomes whole. Colors collide, shapes shift, and something new arrives—not imposed, but discovered.
This is Kari’s quiet mastery: to let chaos breathe, and then shape it into a kind of visual harmony that still hums with wildness.
A Soul-Centered Practice
Kari Veastad is not driven by trends or theory. Her work flows from a more grounded place.
“My inspiration is the beauty in the surroundings,” she says, “and my passion for the interaction between body, soul, and spirit.”
This depth shows in every brushstroke. Her canvases aren’t performances. They are spaces of reflection—visual meditations on what it means to be alive, vulnerable, in motion.
Her art is not separate from her spirituality. It is her spirituality.
The Art of Return
Kari Veastad’s paintings don’t reveal themselves all at once. They breathe. They shift. They carry a kind of quiet energy that unfolds with time—not in explanation, but in resonance.
These are not static works. They vibrate with life. They continue to move—across the canvas, across time, across the field of the viewer’s body.
They are not paintings to be solved. They are companions to be felt, revisited, and entered again.
Because the energy of her work does not end when the painting is finished. It expands. It lives on. And in your presence—you transform.

Viviana Puello
Editor-in-Chief