Lisa Griest

The world is alive, has soul in it, and is full of gods.


A chip of bark found under a Juniper tree. A torn piece of cloth from a stranger’s old coat. My figures usually start with a found object—something that suggests a face or a story that cannot be put into words yet longs to be told.

Although many of my figures are constructed like the simple handcrafted toys of old—stiff appendages attached to doll-like torsos covered in wax—they are anything but childlike. And yet I hope they instill in you a sense of having lost something when you abandoned your own childhood toys.

I want you to break free from that slow fade of imagination that sees wood as wood, cloth as cloth, shell as shell. There really is a soul in things, and–like the children in Wim Wenders’ film Wings of Desire—if you look closely, it is even possible to see angels standing among us.

I live in Prescott, Arizona with my husband, three Basset Hounds, and an endless number of mule deer, javelina, hummingbirds and orb spiders. When I’m not working as a part-time librarian, I’m downstairs in my studio, aka “My Happy Place.”