Stormie Steele didn’t train in art schools or follow a prescribed route. She arrived by way of life itself—through a process of learning, healing, and observing. A self-taught artist, author, and healing arts practitioner, Steele’s work flows from the same place as her spiritual journey. Her art doesn’t ask to be understood in a conventional way. Instead, it asks to be felt. Every brushstroke is part of a larger conversation between soul and surface. Imperfection isn’t a flaw here—it’s a doorway. Through abstract expression and personal reflection, Steele explores the beauty of surrender, the mystery of faith, and the growth that comes from letting go. For her, the act of creating is also the act of becoming.
Her paintings are not so much answers as they are invitations—to pause, to breathe, to lean into what isn’t easily defined.
A Collection of Original Abstract Series
By Stormie Steele
Stormie Steele’s abstract work doesn’t push for clarity. It holds space for mystery. In her large-scale canvases, words and shapes act like whispers rather than declarations. These are not linear stories. They’re emotional topographies.

Take Abstracts by Storm (48 x 36). It speaks of what can’t be pinned down—those moments when life refuses to make sense, and yet, somehow, we still move forward. Steele calls this process “graceful nonresistance,” and the canvas reflects that. Tones rise and fall without sharp edges. Movement feels like breath. She writes that the soul is “lured into spontaneous movements.” You can feel that here. Nothing is staged. Nothing screams for attention. The work feels like it’s unfolding in real time, like a dance between the seen and unseen.
This is less about making a painting and more about trusting a process. As Steele puts it, it’s “the exchanging from familiar to unfamiliar” that allows truth to surface. These paintings aren’t decorative—they’re lived moments.

In Abstracts by Storm (36 x 48), the work turns inward again. Here, Steele touches on faith. Not the kind that’s loud or performative, but the kind that sits quietly in the background, holding everything together. The palette is restrained, the gestures sure but open. She writes: “Faith compels us to believe in the unseen…to grow with the uninterpretable.” These paintings feel like that—like growth without direction, movement without a map.
Steele believes surrender isn’t defeat. It’s awakening. She uses abstraction to explore this inner terrain. The work isn’t trying to tell you what to think. It’s asking you to listen.

The painting Resurrection (49 x 40) shifts the tone. There’s more weight here, more tension. It reflects that space between endings and beginnings. “Where there seems to be no life,” she writes, “glimmers of possibility emerge.” The texture changes. Shapes seem to rise from beneath the surface. The suggestion of ash, of something once broken, is there. But so is renewal. This piece doesn’t shout resurrection. It glows with it.
This idea—that renewal is quiet, slow, and rooted in vulnerability—runs throughout Steele’s work. Her painting process, like her words, is reflective. She creates through contemplation, through stillness. But the result isn’t static. It pulses.
All of her work, in some way, leans into a single question: what does it mean to move with the unknown? And how do we change when we do?
What’s striking is that none of her pieces ask you to figure them out. There’s no pressure to “get it.” Steele’s abstracts offer space rather than conclusions. They suggest that you already know what you need—you just have to be still long enough to notice it.
Stormie Steele paints like someone listening. Her brush follows a quieter rhythm, one that doesn’t conform to expectations but trusts its own pace. That trust, that surrender, is the real material of her work. The canvas is just where it lands.