There’s Something Awesome About Lenora

In this digital world saturated with flickering images—scrolled, shared, sent, and any other fitting word that starts with “S”—do you ever wonder what really happens to those images after we’ve mentally digested them throughout our lives? Do they just disappear from our minds for good, or do they lie dormant in the crevices of our psychological SD cards, unconsciously emerging in our dreams, imaginations, conversations—or, if we tend to express ourselves artistically, maybe they abstractly emerge in the art we create?

Well, there’s this one extraordinary human being named Lenora—whose name literally means “light”—who happens to be one of those people who expresses herself through art, and instead of letting those once-scrolled and shared images fade into oblivion, she’s been both consciously and unconsciously transforming them into a series of marvelous paintings in preparation for her second art exhibition. Her exhibit will tell a unique and abstract story—one that explores our relationship with images, technology, and the five senses, all tangled up in the rapid exchange of modern life. The final result? A beautiful, sensory-rich narrative told through art.

Part One: The Search

Finding Lenora’s studio felt like something straight out of a ‘90s British film. Now, I’ve never actually taken the time to watch one, but if I had, I imagine it would look exactly like my journey to locate her hidden studio. I was relying solely on my digital companion, Georgina Paisley Smith, also known as GPS—who, for reasons I’ll never understand, refuses to speak during those urgent moments in traffic when I actually need her most, but won’t stop talking when I’m just trying to enjoy my music while on the highway. But that’s a story for another time.

Back to the '90s British film vibes: the final stretch of the drive had me sailing down what felt like a never-ending country road. There was a random dead-end sign on the left, and just when I was sure I’d taken a wrong turn into rural oblivion, a charming Southern-style home appeared in the distance. Next to it stood a classical-looking structure with a tiny white sign that read: *Studio Entrance*.

The one small sign gave me a glimmer of hope that I’d made it, but it wasn’t exactly reassuring that I was at the right location. Before I arrived, I was half-anticipating to see a giant mural, buckets of paint, or at least some brushes laying around—but instead, it was just a tidy landscape and a modest structure with a sign.

Not literally, but I was still on the fence about whether I was in the right place—mainly because Georgina (aka GPS) has a sketchy track record and has led me to some deeply questionable locations in the past. Still, I parked anyway and decided to give it a go.

I stepped out of the car and scanned for any sign of life. Still deep in those ‘90s British film vibes, I found myself standing in a peaceful but oddly cinematic landscape—part trees, part dirt—with the surreal sense that, at any moment, a soft-spoken stranger with that audiobook-narrator vibe might emerge to ask if I was searching for the local artist known as Lenora. But no—there was no random character with a raspy voice to assist my search for Lenora.

After a minute or two of standing around, phone in hand, debating whether to text Lenora, she randomly appeared, coming out of a side door wearing a black tank top, denim jeans, and the most incredible, energy-setting smile that seemed to immediately set the tone for the rest of the encounter. And just like that, the search was over.

Part Two: The Studio

Not to be dramatic or anything, but the moment my foot left the grassy landscape outside and stepped into Lenora’s studio, there was a pulsing shift in energy that excited my state of mind. My senses instantly heightened. It felt surreal as it seemed as though my brain was buffering between the transition from the earthy Texas landscape to this never-before-experienced creative realm decorated with incredible art.

The studio floors and walls were white, but it felt as though the whiteness was magnified by the fluorescent light that wasn’t harsh or clinical. It had that just-right glow—the kind of light that makes you feel like you’ve entered a special place.

As my eyes finally adjusted to the shift in light, my other senses began transitioning as well, trying to process the series of artworks displayed throughout the space. One thing I noticed about Lenora’s art is that it’s deeply alluring—so much so that there’s this sudden urge to ask what it’s about, yet also a desire to simply take it in without needing to know. Although each piece carries a theme and tells a story, my experience of seeing the work for the first time and interpreting it freely was both blissful and memorable—especially because Lenora seemed just as excited to share it with me as I was to take it all in. As humans, we have this need to understand things, to assign logic to everything—and sometimes we drive ourselves a little insane trying to do so. But with Lenora’s art, I decided to let go and allow my mind to float wherever the paintings wanted to take me.

And each piece took me somewhere amazing.

Her work feels like watching a dream unfold in real time. The images in her paintings don’t just sit on the canvas—they hover. The longer you look, the deeper they pull you in. It’s like standing somewhere between a dream you once had and a memory you can’t quite place.

There are abstract textures, radiant colors, and layered imagery all colliding in ways that make you want to reach out with your naturally oily fingertips and touch the masterpiece in front of you. But you can’t—you just can’t. You. just. can’t. 

Lenora has one of the calmest presences of anyone I’ve ever met, and the way she articulates herself was genuinely enjoyable to listen to. I asked a lot of questions, to which she gave brief but thoughtful answers. However, the moment I asked her about her creative process—her energy shifted, her vocal rhythm sped up, and her creative passion emerged, which was a beautiful sequence to see.

I had assumed she started with her subjects first, given how striking they are. But she told me no—she starts with the background as it sets the tone in a way that tells her what the subject will be.

I found this fascinating—not just because it was unexpected, but because it offered a glimpse into how her creative mind works. She can look at a few scattered dots and somehow determine what subject will harmonize with those tiny beginnings. That, to me, is nothing short of creative genius.

Some of the techniques she uses are beautifully unconventional. For example, she spray-paints over everyday objects—rubber bands, bits of found material—to create layers of texture and depth. Once the background is set, it leads her to the rest of the story.

It’s a reversal of the usual start with the focal point approach—and honestly, it works masterfully. Many of her paintings feature powerful, unforgettable subjects, but it’s the background that adds a versatile dimension, introducing another layer of brilliance to Lenora’s art.

Part Three: Lost and Found

While I was typing this out, I realized something kind of important: I forgot to ask Lenora where she’s from. I know—random. But it felt like a detail worth including, so I did what any unprofessional-but-resourceful writer would do: I Googled her.

According to her website bio, she was born in 1999 in Vermont.

One: she’s literally the only person I know who was born in Vermont.
Two: I think it’s kind of awesome that she only included the year she was born in her bio.
And three: there is no three—but I needed to write something here to make the list feel complete.

Anyway, this wasn’t meant to be a deep, philosophical section. It’s just something I forgot, remembered, and decided to share. But I guess it’s also a quiet little reminder that artists—no matter how dreamlike or out-of-this-world their work might seem—come from real places. Real towns. Real zip codes.

Part Four: Across the Pond

After coming back to reality from the dreamy experience that Lenora’s art delivered, I found myself curious about the actual space I was standing in. Because honestly, before I stepped inside, its exterior didn’t exactly scream art studio. Later, I learned why. The very studio I had entered used to be an old barn.

As a kid, Lenora would help her dad with woodworking projects in that barn. Eventually, he renovated it into a livable space—and not long after that, while she was still just a young artist in the making, it became her personal art studio.

When I asked her what it’s like being a young artist with her own private studio, her whole face lit up. It was one of those subtle but unforgettable moments: her eyes glimmered, her head tilted back slightly, and for a second, it felt like she was revisiting those early teen days. With a pleasant smile and a joyful tone, she told me, “It’s like living in my own world.”

And that world? It eventually expanded—across the ocean and into one of the most historically artistic cities in the world: Paris, France. In just a few years, that young girl became a woman, and her creative world led her to sharpen her skills at the Paris College of Art. It was a major turning point—one that added richness, structure, and experience to an already blossoming talent.

Learning about her time in Paris was a fascinating part of our conversation, adding even more layers to my growing intrigue about the various aspects of her life and creative journey as an artist.

Part Five: Out of My Control

A wise woman once said that Austin’s art market is small and challenging to break into. That same wise woman—Lenora—soon discovered the power of DIY. Instead of waiting for a fancy gallery to recognize her incredible work (which, let’s be real, they will someday), she took matters into her own hands.

Only a few short years after returning from Paris, she curated her own solo show. Realizing the beauty and potential in the studio where she once created art as a teenager, Lenora saw an opportunity. With the support of her awesome parents, she transformed her childhood studio into a gallery space and opened the doors for her first solo exhibition on February 24, 2023. The show was called 'Out of My Control.'

Ironically, Lenora took control of a situation that had once felt out of her control—and made her artistic dreams a reality.

Now, just a couple of years later, Lenora is gearing up for round two. Her next show is on the horizon, and she shared the title with me. It felt like one of those exciting moments when your best friend tells you their baby’s name before anyone else. The name of her second show is refreshing and perfectly aligns with the creative composition of her art pieces.

While I’d love to be the one to reveal the name of her show right here in this story (as I must admit, it’s hard for me to keep exciting secrets for too long), I’ll leave that honor to Lenora herself when she launches the show—with dates, times, and all the exciting details that come with it.

Last Part: I’m an Artist

One of the most amazing moments I had during my time with Lenora was when I first stepped into her studio and looked at her art. She didn’t just show me around and explain what each piece meant or how she felt while creating it (not that there’s anything wrong with that). Instead, I remember how she simply let me interpret the art in my own way. In that moment, I realized that beyond her incredible painting skills, Lenora’s ability to invite others into her creative space and make them feel welcomed is one of her most remarkable gifts.

My last question for Lenora was simple: What do you want your title to be—alive or dead? Without hesitation, she answered, “An Artist.” And I can’t quite explain it, but hearing her say that in that moment was incredibly powerful. It was short, yet confident—an affirmation that she is exactly who she wants to be.