Artist Series 014 - Avia Rose Ramm
A Conversation with Avia Rose Ramm
Tell us a bit about where you’re from, where you’ve been, and how you began working in the arts?
I was born and raised in San Diego and earned my BA in Studio Arts from San Diego State University in 2020. I had been living in Los Angeles for a few years, but returned to San Diego to pursue my tattoo career. I’ve had the opportunity to showcase my work from coast to coast, from Los Angeles all the way to New York.
I’ve been actively contributing to the arts since 2017—across DIY spaces and museum settings alike. While painting is my foundation, I am an artist spread across many mediums such as ceramics, sculpture, music illustration, animation, murals, and am currently work as a full-time tattoo artist.
I owe it to spaces such as Burn all Books, Teros Gallery, Good Faith, Swish Projects, Weird Hues, Art Produce, the Front, Deixis, SDSU school of Art + Design, ICA San Diego, the Athenaeum, Bread and Salt, and more who have supported my art and career over the years.
What inspired the body of work you’ve put into this show?
Girlhood, eggs, backyard birds, working animals, myth, the grind, burnout, the man-made pigment quinacridone red, and earth-made dirt have been the inspiration for this body of work.
Tell us about your creative process? What inspires you?
I created this body of work over the course of about five months, which is much faster than I’m used to. Normally, I like to sit with ideas for a while and let them evolve. This time, I sketched out a series of concepts and trusted that a natural flow of imagery I resonated with would emerge.
In many ways, it felt similar to tattooing. You're constantly creating designs on the spot, trusting they’re strong enough to live outside of your sketchbook forever. That same instinct guided this process. I’m grateful for the creative muscle I’ve built over the years—it made the flow feel surprisingly seamless.
The real challenge wasn’t the creative process itself, but to find the time to make them.
My inspiration remains the same: the backyard bird singing, the horse prancing, the dog at the park doing exactly what it was evolved to do. These animals live outside of the man-made world, yet continue to exist with purpose and clarity. Making this series gave me an excuse to dive deeper into a quiet beauty of beings who simply pursue existence.
What do you hope people take away from your work?
I don’t expect people to take away anything specific from my work. If it happens to align with my intentions, that’s wonderful—but that part is just for me. I am simply grateful people take the time to look.
If there’s one thing I do hope for, it’s that this can encourage others to spend time on their own creative projects. This body of work was made in the margins—between jobs, responsibilities, and the demands of adulthood, which for me revolved around making rent and paying bills.
Making art, of any kind and level, feels like an act of quiet resistance. In a culture that values work over all, creativity offers a space to reclaim time for ourselves. It is nourishing. Long before there was rent, taxes, or written language, humans were making art. Creativity is a muscle we should flex often whatever that looks like for someone. If the house finch in my backyard finds time to sing and dance between survival, I too want to be creative.
