Brooke Alisz
/brʊk ɑːˈliːs/ · brook ah-LEESE
noun · adj.
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(n.) an artist; painter and maker working under Brooke Alisz Studio.
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(adj.) of, relating to, or characteristic her work: acrylic on mirror, oil on canvas, found-object and material collage. “A Brooke Alisz approach to surface and reflection.”
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(n.) a body of work concerned with the individual vs. the whole, identity, portraits of everyday life, and the humanity of creation.
see also: reflection (lit. & fig.); the beauty of ordinary things; making as a human act
usage: best experienced in person, ideally while catching your own reflection mid-painting
The journey to now
In May 2024, I made the decision to step away from corporate America and set out on my own as a freelancer. After about two years of working in the UX/UI and design world post-grad school, I found myself questioning whether I was on the right path. I often felt like an impostor, as though I was trying to build a life that didn’t quite feel like mine. The work wasn’t without meaning, but I struggled to see myself in it and to feel connected to what I was creating. Leaving the security of a 9-5 wasn’t easy, but it was the first step toward regaining my agency: choosing the clients I wanted to work with, the values I wanted to stand behind, and the kind of creative practice that truly fulfilled me.
So I took some time to travel, to let myself explore internally, and experience new things. I had the time to be with my art fo the first time in years, and I began a few new paintings, and I volunteered at an art non-profit to get comfortable with the idea of art being at the center of my "workday" again.
By the fall of 2024, my freelance work in graphic and web design had really started to pick up. I felt accomplished watching my calendar fill up and my skills put to use, but it was a mixed bag of emotions. I said yes to every opportunity that came my way, eager to prove myself and keep momentum, but I often felt like I was treading water rather than growing as a designer. I was busy, and sometimes overwhelmingly so, but struggled to feel deeply connected to the work. That rush of projects was followed by my first quiet season: winter hit, and with it came the reality of an empty inbox during the holiday season. It was a tough adjustment, but it gave me space to reflect.
During this time in my journey, I created work I was proud of, collaborating with marketing agencies, supporting small local businesses, and even contributing to projects for international brands. But as I focused on client work, my personal art quietly took a back seat.
Starting in January 2025, design work was slow to pick up. The quiet stretched longer than I expected, and although things eventually gained momentum again by March, I found myself caught in the cycle of feast and famine that so many freelancers know well. But beyond the ebb and flow of projects, I was struggling with something deeper: an increasing loss of my sense of self. I kept telling myself I was happy to be in my graphic design era, but that just wasn't true. I was trying to make peace with focusing on client work, but I felt a pang of guilt every day I didn’t pick up my paintbrush. And when I did make space for art, I felt guilty for not doing more conventional work, i.e. the kind that paid the bills.
The artist in me was asking, quietly but insistently, for attention. I wrestled with the tension between the career I truly wanted to build and the one society had taught me I was supposed to pursue. Choosing to allow this creative awakening influence my decision-making was terrifying, but served as a reminder of what had prompted me to step away from corporate life less than a year earlier. I felt a pull back toward the parts of myself I’d been neglecting.
Over time, I began to practice balance. I am learning to regulate my nervous system so I can make decisions with clarity and agency, rather than from the frozen, overwhelmed state that long-term stress had created. I realized I didn’t have to choose between design or art; the best thing I can do for myself is honor the artist in me, fully and without apology, while taking on the right design projects. I’m embracing the title of artist now, and no longer feel the need to shrink from that identity in a crowded room of business-minded folks. Somewhere along the way, I let the noise get too deep into my head about what a career is supposed to look like, so I decided to build my own, in my own way.
Today, I create art (mostly paintings and collages) and I take on mission-aligned design clients, often small businesses and entrepreneurs who deserve good design and good people. I create websites and graphic design collateral for clients doing meaningful work, supported by teams who care about what they’re building.
