Kim Matthews makes nonobjective sculpture and drawings in various media, emphasizing process and materiality as a vehicle for reflection. The recipient of a 2010–2011 Jerome Fiber Artist Project Grant, Ms. Matthews exhibits in nonprofit and commercial venues throughout the U.S. In 2017, she participated in her first international exhibition in Ukraine. Her work is featured in Lark Books’ 500 Paper Objects and Artistry in Fiber, Volume II: Sculpture, published by Schiffer. Ms. Matthews was born in Anchorage, Alaska, grew up and attended college in Maine, and has been living in Minneapolis, Minnesota since 1984. She is represented by Douglas Flanders & Associates in Minneapolis.
Published on March 2nd, 2026. Artist responses collected in months previous.
Was pursuing your creative work a calling for you? How do you define calling within your practice? Share a concise definition and a moment when this felt most true.
This might seem weird for someone whose work is so engaged with spirituality, but I'm not comfortable with terms like "calling." It just sounds so--I dunno--messianic or something. What I will say is that when I don't do my work, I feel unwell. And it's all I've ever wanted to do, ever since I was a little kid. I read an artist interview recently in which the interviewee said that any artist who says that they knew they wanted to be an artist when they were a kid is BS, but it's not. Kids know who they are; whether they choose to respect that knowing throughout their lives is the question.
What does a successful career in the arts look like to you today? Describe how you measure success now and note any shifts from earlier in your career.
Success at this point means being able to eat and pay my bills without completely compromising my values to do so. And to keep making my work steadily and get it to the people who will resonate with it and get something out of it.
When I first started exhibiting professionally, I used to sell--not a ton, but enough to believe that if I continued honing my craft, maturing, and growing, I could make it. Now there's no middle class to buy it and AI has pretty much made my other marketable skills obsolete. Like many people my age, I imagine, I'm in the wilderness. I have no idea how I'm going to make a life for myself to get through these next 40 years relatively comfortably. I would consider myself highly successful if I could solve this problem!
How are you kind to yourself in your art practice? (Include one or two concrete examples such as boundaries, rest, or studio routines.)
My life is held together by a long-term, solid routine that I don't deviate from too much. I meditate for half an hour twice each day and do yoga on weekday mornings. I swim three times a week and walk as much as possible. I try to eat as cleanly as possible and avoid consuming media that depresses or enrages me. That last bit is no mean feat these days if one wishes to be well-informed and an active, socially responsible citizen.
I haven't been able to work much for the past year or so because I've just been too freaked out about money and our future as a nation and a planet. I don't want to put that kind of energy into my work or into the world and have been focusing on shoring up the infrastructure of my life and trying somehow to future-proof it in the midst of all this craziness. In the meantime, I realized how deeply depressed I got because I wasn't working in the studio in any disciplined way and knew that absolutely had to change. I'm coming back and I have a new body of work coming...slowly.
What impact do you hope your work has on others? Name the response you hope to spark and who you most want to reach.
Well, I hope it's positive. My work has different purposes. The small works on paper are contemplative tools for myself but they are for others too. I try not to think about others when I'm making my sculpture. I'm thinking about formal elements but also really getting into the process and materials and just the sheer pleasure of conceiving and making objects. And for the past several years I've been poking at the edges of public or institutional sculpture, trying to figure out how to get my work in new places for new audiences. As for who I most want to reach--I want to reach people who get something positive out of what I'm doing. I don't think it's the artist's job to tell the viewer what kind of experience to have; it's up to the viewer to have their own experience. If they're motivated to look closely, ask questions, think about what they're seeing or just enjoy it, great. If not, fine. Like Jerry Saltz says: "Art is for anyone. Art is not for everyone."
Do you have any rituals or spiritual practices that you integrate into your daily life as an artist? If relevant, mention frequency, timing, or how the practice supports your work.
I described all that above. Again, the popular language of spirituality and religion makes me a little suspicious, so I don't frame things in terms of "rituals." That said, what I do in the studio is a spiritual practice. I try to live in such a way that my entire life is a spiritual practice, so it's hard to separate all these things. I hate to use this cliche too, but I think it's really important to be present as much as possible. I'm a committed monotasker.
Was pursuing your creative work a calling for you? How do you define calling within your practice? Share a concise definition and a moment when this felt most true.
This might seem weird for someone whose work is so engaged with spirituality, but I'm not comfortable with terms like "calling." It just sounds so--I dunno--messianic or something. What I will say is that when I don't do my work, I feel unwell. And it's all I've ever wanted to do, ever since I was a little kid. I read an artist interview recently in which the interviewee said that any artist who says that they knew they wanted to be an artist when they were a kid is BS, but it's not. Kids know who they are; whether they choose to respect that knowing throughout their lives is the question.
What does a successful career in the arts look like to you today? Describe how you measure success now and note any shifts from earlier in your career.
Success at this point means being able to eat and pay my bills without completely compromising my values to do so. And to keep making my work steadily and get it to the people who will resonate with it and get something out of it.
When I first started exhibiting professionally, I used to sell--not a ton, but enough to believe that if I continued honing my craft, maturing, and growing, I could make it. Now there's no middle class to buy it and AI has pretty much made my other marketable skills obsolete. Like many people my age, I imagine, I'm in the wilderness. I have no idea how I'm going to make a life for myself to get through these next 40 years relatively comfortably. I would consider myself highly successful if I could solve this problem!
How are you kind to yourself in your art practice? (Include one or two concrete examples such as boundaries, rest, or studio routines.)
My life is held together by a long-term, solid routine that I don't deviate from too much. I meditate for half an hour twice each day and do yoga on weekday mornings. I swim three times a week and walk as much as possible. I try to eat as cleanly as possible and avoid consuming media that depresses or enrages me. That last bit is no mean feat these days if one wishes to be well-informed and an active, socially responsible citizen.
I haven't been able to work much for the past year or so because I've just been too freaked out about money and our future as a nation and a planet. I don't want to put that kind of energy into my work or into the world and have been focusing on shoring up the infrastructure of my life and trying somehow to future-proof it in the midst of all this craziness. In the meantime, I realized how deeply depressed I got because I wasn't working in the studio in any disciplined way and knew that absolutely had to change. I'm coming back and I have a new body of work coming...slowly.
What impact do you hope your work has on others? Name the response you hope to spark and who you most want to reach.
Well, I hope it's positive. My work has different purposes. The small works on paper are contemplative tools for myself but they are for others too. I try not to think about others when I'm making my sculpture. I'm thinking about formal elements but also really getting into the process and materials and just the sheer pleasure of conceiving and making objects. And for the past several years I've been poking at the edges of public or institutional sculpture, trying to figure out how to get my work in new places for new audiences. As for who I most want to reach--I want to reach people who get something positive out of what I'm doing. I don't think it's the artist's job to tell the viewer what kind of experience to have; it's up to the viewer to have their own experience. If they're motivated to look closely, ask questions, think about what they're seeing or just enjoy it, great. If not, fine. Like Jerry Saltz says: "Art is for anyone. Art is not for everyone."
Do you have any rituals or spiritual practices that you integrate into your daily life as an artist? If relevant, mention frequency, timing, or how the practice supports your work.
I described all that above. Again, the popular language of spirituality and religion makes me a little suspicious, so I don't frame things in terms of "rituals." That said, what I do in the studio is a spiritual practice. I try to live in such a way that my entire life is a spiritual practice, so it's hard to separate all these things. I hate to use this cliche too, but I think it's really important to be present as much as possible. I'm a committed monotasker.
Find Kim Matthews on Instagram