Jacqueline Maravilla is a multidisciplinary artist whose work navigates dream states, shifting perception, and the fluid nature of identity. Drawing from experiences of lucid dreaming and false awakenings, her paintings intertwine human and botanical forms, where nature emerges as a psychological landscape. Within these imagined environments, she explores transformation, liminality, and the evolving nature of the self. Here is an interview with the artist about her process.
What was the initial spark or idea that inspired this piece?
This piece emerged after revisiting some artwork I had created in high
school. Even then, I was exploring themes that continue to appear in
my work today, particularly the relationships between humanity and
nature, reality and imagination. I was thinking about how the self can
feel layered and constantly shifting – both within dreams and through
personal evolution – where the boundaries between different versions
of ourselves dissolve. The composition became a way of visualizing
that multiplicity and ongoing transformation.
The composition is filled with reaching hands and faces turned toward one another. What kinds of relationships or connections were you exploring?
The faces and gestures suggest moments of recognition, dialogue, and
exchange between different aspects of the self. They can also be read
more broadly as reflections of our interconnectedness and shared human
experiences.
What role does the botanical world play in your work?
I think there’s both an aesthetic and conceptual aspect to it. The
relationship between humanity and nature has always fascinated me, but
I’m also deeply inspired by the experiences I have in natural
environments. When I was living in Los Angeles, I often visited the
flower market in DTLA, where I found myself drawn to unusual colors,
forms, and species I had never encountered before. Those experiences
continue to influence my visual language. Conceptually, plants serve
as symbols for growth, transformation, impermanence, and cycles of
change. They allow me to externalize internal experiences and create
environments that feel both familiar and dreamlike.
Were the angel’s trumpet flowers chosen intentionally, given their historical association with altered states and visionary experiences?
Yes! I was drawn to datura for multiple reasons—the tension between
beauty and danger, its ties to indigenous traditions, and its
associations with ritual, transformation, and altered perception. The
flower’s brief, one-night bloom also speaks to themes of impermanence
and change, which are central to the work.
There’s a dreamlike quality to the piece that feels both peaceful and mysterious. Were you drawing from a specific memory, dream, or emotional state while creating it?
No, not one specific experience. I would describe it more as a collage
of introspection—a collection of thoughts, emotions, dreams, and
observations accumulated over time. I like that the piece can evoke
different feelings depending on where the viewer’s attention rests;
there are elements of tranquility, mystery, beauty, and darkness. In
many ways, it reflects the complexity of being human and the many
emotional states we can hold simultaneously.
Why did you choose to work primarily in shades of blue? What emotional or symbolic significance does that color hold for you?
Blue has always felt contemplative and expansive to me. It evokes a
sense of stillness while also suggesting depth, distance, and
introspection. There’s an ambiguity to the space the figures
inhabit—it could be underwater, suspended in air, or somewhere more
liminal and undefined. In this painting, the monochromatic palette
helps unify the various figures and forms while reinforcing the
dreamlike atmosphere. Looking back, I wonder if I was also
subconsciously influenced by two aura photographs I had taken a year
apart that appeared almost identical. At the time, I was struggling
with reclaiming my identity and confronting feelings of personal
stagnation, so the persistent blue feels meaningful in retrospect.
The central figure appears to contain multiple identities or
perspectives at once. Is this a commentary on the self, community, consciousness, or something else entirely?
The figure primarily reflects my interest in the multiplicity of the
self. Rather than viewing identity as singular or fixed, I’m
interested in how it can contain many perspectives, memories, and
emotional states simultaneously. At the same time, I think that
multiplicity can also extend outward and speak to our connections with
others.
Nature and humanity appear intertwined throughout the piece. How do you see the relationship between the natural world and personal growth?
I see nature as a mirror for internal transformation. Growth, decay,
emergence, and renewal are processes that occur both in nature and
within ourselves. By intertwining human and botanical forms, I’m
exploring how personal change often follows rhythms and cycles similar
to those found in the natural world.
If this artwork had a soundtrack, what would be playing?
Hmm, this is a tough one because I feel like it could go in so many
directions based on how the viewer is feeling, but definitely
something with an ethereal quality, suspended between stillness and
movement. I could envision an animated version of the painting set to
an instrumental version of Air’s playground love. Or maybe something
more ambient/atmospheric like bremer/mccoy’s alpha & omega? Would need
to give this one more thought for sure.
What emotions or realizations do you hope viewers take away after spending time with this piece?
Rather than arriving at a specific conclusion, I hope viewers feel
invited into a space of reflection and curiosity. I want people to
form their own personal connection to the work and discover meanings
that resonate with their own experiences. Above all, I hope they find
themselves drawn into the imagery and enjoy spending time with it.
Do you see this work as depicting an altered reality, an inner
landscape, or an extension of everyday life?
I see my inner landscape as an extension of my daily life, and my
daily life as an extension of that inner space. So, for me, the work
exists across all of those layers simultaneously.
Have altered states, meditation, dreams, or other expanded states of consciousness influenced your creative process?
Yes, definitely! I think altered states often encourage your mind to
explore different possibilities and perceptions. My first experience
with bufo actually brought me out of a 10-year creative block and back
to painting. A lot of my dreams blur the line between reality and
imagination; I’m particularly interested in the moments where
perception becomes unstable and familiar realities begin to shift,
revealing alternative ways of understanding ourselves and the world
around us.
Did this composition emerge intuitively, or was it carefully planned from the start?
A bit of both. I often begin with an intuitive image or feeling and
allow the painting to develop organically. As the work evolves,
relationships between figures, forms, and symbols become clearer, and
the composition gradually finds its structure.
What part of the piece evolved the most from your original vision?
I don’t think I ever really have an original vision. There’s always
some initial form of inspiration – usually a color or shape that I
feel drawn to – and it all just evolves from there. I definitely have
some trouble deciding when pieces are finished. I actually had
sketched out a double headed snake winding through the painting but in
the end decided to proceed without it.
What are you currently exploring in your artistic practice that excites you?
I’m continuing to explore similar themes in my work but through
different mediums. Right now, I’m having a lot of fun bridging art and
fashion, creating sculptural, wearable pieces. Looking forward to
collaborating with friends in NYC and LA, and excited to see where
this process takes me!
