Meet Rachel Silva

We recently connected with Rachel Silva and have shared our conversation below.

Hi Rachel , appreciate you sitting with us today to share your wisdom with our readers. So, let’s start with resilience – where do you get your resilience from?

My resilience began long before I knew what to call it. I learned early how to stay soft through difficult seasons and lose myself in writing and reading, when everything else was harsh around me.
Losing my mother 7 years ago, shaped that more than anything. Grief cracked me open and reminded me how fragile and precious everything is.

Painting appeared then, quietly. I didn’t seek it out. It became a place to breathe when words failed. I learned that resilience is not always fierce. Sometimes it is simply sitting with your feelings and turning them into color.

My process is physical and emotional. I work with my hands, trusting the chaos before clarity arrives. Resilience feels the same. You let life move through you and rebuild as you go.

I hold to the idea that nothing is promised. That truth can hurt, but it also teaches us to begin again. To me, resilience is not about being unbreakable. It is the willingness to feel deeply and keep choosing growth.

So I think my resilience comes from loss, love, art, and the quiet belief that beauty can still grow in difficult places. Every time I paint, I am reminded that healing happens in layers. It asks you to keep showing up. And I do.

Thanks, so before we move on maybe you can share a bit more about yourself?

I am a self-taught abstract expressionist painter. My work lives in the space where emotion meets instinct. I paint mostly with my hands, palette knives, and catalyst wedges, building layers of texture that feel as alive as the feelings that shape them. I am drawn to intensity, vulnerability, and the quiet moments that live beneath the noise. Every piece I make is titled after a song. Music fuels the process and helps transform memory into movement.

What excites me most is the way art allows us to connect without having to explain ourselves. A single mark or color can carry grief, joy, or longing. It can say what language cannot. When someone stands in front of one of my pieces and feels seen, it reminds me why I create in the first place. Art is a bridge. It invites us to show up exactly as we are.

I am always thinking about impermanence, how everything is both fleeting and precious. That energy often finds its way into my textures, color fields, and layered compositions. Painting has never been about perfection for me. It is about honesty.
I am also getting back to my roots of writing more. Pairing short poetic pieces with my art to expand the conversation on vulnerability, healing, and identity.

At its heart, my practice is about transformation. Taking the intangible and giving it shape. Turning feeling into something you can touch.

There is so much advice out there about all the different skills and qualities folks need to develop in order to succeed in today’s highly competitive environment and often it can feel overwhelming. So, if we had to break it down to just the three that matter most, which three skills or qualities would you focus on?

Looking back, the three qualities that shaped my journey the most are curiosity, emotional honesty, and patience.

Curiosity kept me moving even when I did not know where I was going. I am self-taught, so my entire practice grew from a willingness to experiment. I learned by making a mess, trying things that felt strange, and following instinct instead of rules. I encourage anyone starting out to stay open. Explore. Follow the spark. The answers often appear after your hands are already moving.

Emotional honesty is the heart of my work. I paint what I feel. There is no mask in it. Learning to hold space for my own story and translate it through texture and color changed everything. For new artists, this means trusting your inner world. Let your truth lead. The more sincere you are, the more your work will speak to others.

Patience taught me to honor growth without rushing it. Art is layered. Life is layered. Some pieces take hours. Some take months. Learning to trust the timeline gave me permission to return, revise, and let the work evolve. If you are just beginning, give yourself grace. There is no finish line. The process is the point.

These qualities shaped not only the way I create but the way I live. Stay curious. Stay honest. Keep showing up.

Any advice for folks feeling overwhelmed?

When I feel overwhelmed, I try to return to my body first. I slow my breathing, put my feet on the ground, and let myself settle. It sounds simple, but presence is powerful. The mind can travel in a thousand directions at once, while the body is always here. Coming back to it gives me a place to start.

Art is my anchor. Sometimes I go to the canvas with no plan at all. I just move paint around with my hands and let whatever is inside come out without judgment. The act of creating reminds me that chaos can transform into something meaningful. Even if the piece never sees daylight, the process helps me release the pressure I am carrying.

Music also plays a big role. I choose a song that mirrors my mood or shifts it. Letting sound wash through me helps clear emotional space so I can think more gently.

I am learning that overwhelm is often a signal, not a failure. It asks for rest, attention, or a change in pace. So I give myself permission to pause. I take a walk, breathe fresh air, or sit in silence until I feel my center again.

My advice is to approach yourself with compassion. You do not have to solve everything at once. Pay attention to what your body is asking for. Let your feelings move instead of holding them tight. And remember that even small steps are still movement.

Overwhelm is a visitor. It does not stay forever.

Contact Info:

• Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/rs_artstuff

Image Credits

Studio picture: Whispering Willow Photography