Stacy Isenbarger’s artworks highlight perceived boundaries built from one’s environment or their perception of it. Through explorations of unexpected material collisions, poetic narratives, shared iconography, or collective engagement, Isenbarger continuously seeks ways to express complex negotiations of place and the desire to feel whole within it.

Isenbarger’s creative pursuits include sculpture, installation, mixed-media drawings, student mentorship, and supporting community exchange through art. As an Associate Professor of Art + Design at the University of Idaho, she celebrates her opportunities to explore creative communication and empowerment. When she’s not teaching or making—and sometimes when she is—she’s usually dancing since the act continuously validates her joy of community acceptance and shaking up space. She currently splits her time between Moscow, Idaho, and Cardiff, Wales.

There has been so much worth letting go of in recent years, yet I still feel an atmospheric pull to try and tie the air back together and hold on to something grounding where I am. Consumed by various fears, distractions, and environmental losses, we are not only missing the subtle, comforting details around us but are left not knowing how to savor them. This work attempts to hold space for desired change.

As we redefine our sense of shared space and what it means to feel “at home”, I continue to consider how the shadows of thresholds we’ve passed through still shape our newly felt experience. Through constructed, mixed-media tensions, this work considers our allusive, shifting boundaries—both physical and personal.

In my studio space, I surround myself with gathered piles of found remnants of home (mostly upholstery fabric, pieces of furniture, rope & velvet) and elements of nature I’ve found on hikes. Texture fuels me, but also my need to tidy & dignify. As I work to find interesting material collisions to elicit touch, I aim to create forms that have their own persona or suggestive stance. I sketch with my materials—folding, colliding, stitching, rotating, etc. until I find a finish. Sometimes this feels spontaneous, sometimes not, but I’ve come to fondly refer to my process as “tetris-ing.”