BY SUZY STUMP for WEEKLY VOLCANO 7/4/25 |
Veronica Sauer didn’t need a passport or pedigree to become an artist. What she needed was a spark—and a large sheet of poster paper. One day, driven by a need to create, she layered colored wax, painted over it, added texture medium, and carved in abstract shapes inspired by 1930s architecture. She hadn’t taken a single formal art class. She hadn’t traveled to the European museums she now reveres. But when she looked at that finished piece, something shifted.

“It was a portal,” she says. “From childhood on, art and creating have always fascinated me.”
Today, Veronica is known for bold compositions that blur the lines between abstract and realism. Her work vibrates with expressive color, movement, and emotional depth—whether she’s capturing the glint of mischief in a portrait’s eye or the shimmer of morning light across a wet street. The process, though, remains intuitive.
“I usually start with a photo,” she explains, “but it’s not about copying. It’s about what I feel—what I want the viewer to feel. I use color to capture energy, emotion, light.”
Acrylic paint is her medium of choice, fast-drying enough to keep pace with her urgency. She applies it with big brushes or palette knives, often starting with a vibrant underpainting. Layer by layer, the image takes shape, until one final stroke draws everything together. In portraiture, that last pass often brings a kind of spark—“like they’re about to blink or speak,” she says.
This connection to the unseen—this felt experience—might be what makes Veronica’s work linger. One reviewer captured the sensation this way: “Her art drops into your soul and you can’t stop hugging it with your brain.” It’s a compliment she treasures, along with the many emotional reactions she’s witnessed. “People cry sometimes when they see a piece of their pet or someone they’ve lost,” she says. “They tell me I captured something essential.”
Veronica didn’t always paint full time. Her background includes years in the corporate world, but a sports injury brought that chapter to a halt. Recovery created a pause—and in that space, art rushed in. Her godmother gave her a simple suggestion: paint a self-portrait. Veronica did. And she hasn’t stopped since.
A Tacoma native with German and American roots, Veronica’s influences stretch far and wide. Fauvism, European Expressionism, the bold palette of Der Blaue Reiter, even classical sculpture and ancient Greek art all show up in her visual vocabulary. During university and through visits to the Henry Art Gallery in Seattle, she immersed herself in the history of image-making. But her real education, she says, came from experimentation.
“I call it Abstract Realism or Abstract Fusion,” she says. “It’s informed by history but filtered through the now.”
Still, her roots matter. Veronica credits Tacoma—and one particular teacher—for awakening her artistic eye. “Miss Bev Brown at Annie Wright School taught art history in the most cinematic way,” she says. “We’d sit in the dark watching slides and learning how each piece reflected its time. That stayed with me.”
So did the landscape. The Pacific Northwest—with its mountain backdrops, shifting seasons, and saltwater moods—seeps into her canvases. “There’s so much beauty here,” she says. “Even when I’m working from a photo, I’m painting with that memory of light, that feeling of home.”
Like many artists, the pandemic brought unexpected pivots. For Veronica, that shift came via pet portraits. “I started posting my work more online and suddenly I was painting everyone’s animals,” she laughs. “Nearly a hundred so far!” That chapter launched new gallery partnerships, media interviews, and even international commissions.
But perhaps no piece holds more resonance than Rider on the Storm, painted during a time when the world felt choked with uncertainty. “It was wildfire smoke, curfews, murder hornets—the chaos was surreal,” she recalls. “I painted this faceless rider on horseback, moving through smoke and disorientation. It was all of us—looking back at what we’d endured, but still moving forward.”

That kind of emotional storytelling is central to Veronica’s work. Whether it’s the subtle curve of a shoulder or the way colors collide in a stormy sky, each element invites the viewer to feel something—not just observe. “I want people to feel embraced, engaged, intrigued,” she says. “Like they’ve stumbled into something familiar but slightly reimagined.”
That vision continues to unfold. Veronica is currently showing work at Catalyst Fine Art Gallery, where new pieces rotate monthly. She’s preparing for her fifth year at Seattle’s Madison Park Art Walk and is working with businesses to integrate her art into their spaces. A new abstract series is also set to debut in a Seattle gallery later this year.
Wherever her art appears—be it on canvas, in a storefront window, or at a live Artist in Action event—it carries the same intent: to connect. “Color is a language,” she says. “It speaks directly to the spirit.”
And in Veronica Sauer’s hands, that spirit is bold, luminous, colorful and alive.


