About – Vesela Art

About Vesela Baker

Art has always been a big part of my life. In fact, I don’t know life without art. My parents told me that I was painting before I was walking. I remember being a kid and losing track of time because I was making something from paper, cloth, or some leftover materials that I found.

The whole process of creating objects: planning, working, the touch and feel, and I keep doing it over and over until it’s done. This process gives me satisfaction and a sense of truth and accomplishment like nothing else. I crave this experience and literally don’t know how I would be able to live without it.

My life has been an interesting journey. Sometimes, I feel like I have lived many lives because of my travels and the many places I’ve lived. Who we are is a combination of all the places we’ve been, the people we’ve met, and the experiences we’ve had. We go through life, and life leaves traces on us, molds us constantly, and we evolve into an individual. My paintings reflect my story, my past or present stories, or the ones I create in my dreams. They all flip in my mind in a stream of images, and it’s a constant race to try to record them. Some paintings will only get painted in my mind. The possibilities of how a painting will end up are endless, and I just can’t wait to see the finished outcome.

Acrylic and watercolor are the media of choice for me because of the fast drying process. I continue to learn every day, and my work constantly evolves, as I always have the desire to see things a bit differently and in a new way. I like switching between wood and paper, watercolor and acrylic and because I spend so much time in the studio, that helps me to not get stuck. It forces me to see things from a different perspective and breaks my thought process so I can take a fresh approach.

I am a full-time artist working from my studio in Chattanooga, TN.

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When people ask me, “What inspires you?” I find it hard to answer. I know everything around me influences my work, but pinpointing exactly what shapes the direction I take feels impossible. What I’ve noticed, though, is that my best work happens when I’m happy, rested, and positive.

For me, It’s about showing up every day, stepping into the studio, and starting. The work itself becomes my inspiration.

Painting is just part of who I am—I can’t imagine life without it. My process is intuitive and constantly evolving. Sometimes I notice small shifts, something that accidentally happens, a technique or detail I hadn’t used before, and if it resonates with me. I try to explore it further. These little moments often become intriguing to me and lead to bigger changes in my work.

When I start a new piece, I like to create a kind of “problem” for myself—a chaotic mix of colors, textures, layers—and then work to solve it. It’s like piecing together a puzzle. Over the years, I’ve learned to trust my instincts, to tap into this subconscious place where my decisions feel natural and authentic. In the end, my only real measure of success is whether I feel satisfied with what I’ve created. That satisfaction is rare, though. I almost always think, “It could be better,” but instead of getting stuck on one piece to try to improve it, I move on to the next. I paint a lot. There’s always more to explore and the possibilities are endless.

There is so much beyond color pallet and technique, It’s about the movement and behavior of the paint—the contrast between soft, watery areas and thick, textured layers, or the interplay of transparency and solidity. I’m always looking for dynamic contrasts that feel alive but also peaceful and relatable.

When I paint, I don’t plan much. The process feels automatic, almost like muscle memory from years of practice. My brain races when I’m excited by how something is coming together, and my hands can barely keep up. I work fast, making quick decisions, rarely stopping until I’m either finished or completely physically drained.

But, I wasn’t always this connected to my art. When I moved to the U.S. in 2000, I lived in small-town America for 12 years. During that time, I lost a sense of who I was. I tried so hard to fit in. It wasn’t until I moved to Chattanooga that I stopped trying to be someone I was not. I realized I need to find my way back to my true self. That shift changed everything. My art became more personal, more authentic. I’m not looking to being radical or edgy. What I want is to connect with people. I want my work to feel familiar, but like a reflection of me, something real and true.

This journey has brought me peace. I’m no longer searching frantically for who I am; now, I search peacefully, knowing there’s always something more to discover—something better, stronger, more beautiful.