Alea Bone: The Artist and My Friend

Artist Alea Bone with her giant butterfly art

My intention with this specific essay is to highlight not just Alea Bone as an amazing artist, but Alea as a beautiful human and dear friend.

But first, my bigger intention.

With the rise of AI and its impact on the world, one of the impacts it’s had is a rapid devaluation of artists. I am pushing back against this short-sighted and dumb trend by sharing something human, about someone human. Art is expression and connection. And without artists, who are we connecting to? What makes art most meaningful are the people who create it and our connection to them through their work. I love artists, whether they’re friends, acquaintances, or the many artists I only know from their work and whose work has had an impact on my life.

I didn’t want to write a dry description of Alea’s artwork. This isn’t an artist statement. My aim is for something more personal. It’s a reflection from my personal point of view. A celebration and an ode to a beautiful, living human artist, Alea Bone.

Left: Alea and I, Right: One of Alea’s bottle cap pieces

Our origin story

I met Alea in Portland, Oregon around 2011. We ran in the same artist circles. It’s hard to pinpoint the exact first time, most likely at an art opening. Maybe we were introduced by Chris Haberman, a major Portland artist/curator in the Portland Low Brow art scene. That year, I had curated my first group art show as a way to make deeper connections with the artist community. It was soon after that I met Alea. I had noticed her artwork first, of course. It’s hard not to notice butterflies and luchadoras made from bottle caps and beer cans.

We became fast friends. She’s the kind of person people want to be friends with. She’s a woman who’s always up for an adventure. She’s smart, funny, fun, sensitive, fierce, and beautiful. She’s got a certain gentle charisma, which I don’t think she’s fully aware of. Maybe she is? Whenever I went to an art opening, she was one of the people I would gravitate towards. Sometimes we’d talk about the art, but we’d also have a check-in about our lives and maybe some low-key gossip. My father had passed away around the time we met. I was going through a lot, and it had become essential to occupy myself with my art and the artists around me. Most of them probably don’t know how much they helped by just being there.

The Carnival Group Art Show: Alea showing her piece which is right under mine. It was a hoot!

Over the years, we’ve shown art together in tons of group shows in Portland. One year, we showed work in a Carnival-themed group show. Her artwork happened to be hung right under mine. I had painted a Brazilian carnival dancer and she had made a dancer from beer can tins and the dancer’s legs moved. You could spread them all the way open! It was very cheeky and fun. We had a laugh together at the opening.

We also showed artwork in the Big 500, a huge group show curated by Chris Haberman with over 2000 small artworks. It was a pre-Christmas show where all the 8” x 8” pieces were $40 each. There was a line of people outside the venue waiting to be let in to the show right as it opened. Swarms of people rushed to get specific artists’ work. You had to hunt and move quickly. It was both fun and frustrating. I remember one year seeing one of Alea’s pieces from her Luchadora series and I had to have it. At the opening, I rushed around trying to find it until one of my other artist friends told me someone else bought it. I was so disappointed. But then Alea appeared with the piece in her hand. She had saved it for me. I think I might have cried.

The Luchador art piece that I bought from Alea.

Portland still has several of the same art shows and fairs each month: First Thursday, Last Thursday, and First Friday. Every month, I would try to meet up with Alea and other artist friends for one or two of these events, especially if friends were showing art somewhere. These outings were just as much about supporting each other as seeing the art.

And all the time an artist is making art, curating shows, trying to figure out how to make a living, and everything else, there’s still the person, a human being at the center of it all. There are always personal life challenges to deal with. Sometimes I’d see Alea at an opening, and we’d both be going through our own struggles. One of the things I really love about Alea is her willingness to be vulnerable and show up even when it’s hard. She has a way of bringing grace to things, even when they’re challenging.

Alea curated an amazing show called, Fire On The Water, with artwork inspired by the Portland Dragon Boat Races. It was such a unique idea. The venue was the Portland Center For The Performing Arts, in the main lobby. I’ve seen so many dance performances there. I made two paintings for the show: one that was straightforward and one that was silly.

Me and Alea at the opening of one of the Fire on The Water: Dragon Boat shows. Artwork to the right is another from the Lucha series for a different show.

The Dragon Boat Show had seven seasons. I remember going to it in 2017, my final year in Portland. It had been another hard year for me, and everything was about to change. There was a lot of uncertainty, but I showed up and when I saw Alea at the opening we hugged. We were both in different transitions. Mine was taking me away from Portland and guiding me to Europe. Five months after that art opening, I left Portland to live life as a nomad. Alea left Portland six years after me, relocating to the California desert. Both our lives have changed dramatically as a result of those moves. We both started over, establishing new art communities and friends. She is building her forever home. While I continue to explore what home means as a nomad. For both of us, it hasn’t been easy, but it’s been worth it. We both continue to make art. And even though we are separated by an ocean and a bunch of time zones, we continue to be good friends.

Alea’s art from her series based on butterflies

This essay is a companion to the podcast interview I recently recorded with her. Alea was the very first podcast interview that I shared with the public. There were many technical challenges during the making of the podcast: sound and video issues, she dropped out at one point. It was edited in multiple parts with several takes. But through all the challenges, we approached each other with patience, kindness, humor and respect for one another. And in the end, I created something with her that I am extremely proud of. I am so grateful that Alea was my first interview.

You can see more of Alea’s artwork on Facebook at Bonewerx or Alea Bone on Instagram.

You can watch the podcast here. Or listen to the audio version on Apple Podcasts or Spotify.

You can also visit my website travelcreaterepeat.com where you can subscribe to my newsletter, check out my travel blog and art shop, and link to the podcasts.

Support is always appreciated via my Patreon.

This essay was written by Roxanne Patruznick, a real life human artist who also travels!