Katerina Husar Lazarova shared their story and experiences with us recently and you can find our conversation below.
Katerina, we’re thrilled to have you with us today. Before we jump into your intro and the heart of the interview, let’s start with a bit of an ice breaker: What do you think is misunderstood about your business?
I think what’s most misunderstood about my art business is the amount of unseen work that exists behind each finished piece hanging on a wall. From the outside, it can look simple—like I step into my studio, create something beautiful, and offer it to the world. What remains invisible is the vast landscape behind each work: the emotional risks, the uncertainty, and the many roles I hold at once.
I move through my days wearing overlapping identities. I am the artist, listening closely to intuition, material, and energy. At the same time, I am the organizer, planner, communicator—the one sending emails, making decisions, tracking details, and holding long-term visions together. These roles don’t take turns; they coexist, often asking to be carried simultaneously.
At the center of everything is the work itself. My art asks me to open inner spaces that are not always comfortable or easy to name. When someone connects with a piece, they’re not only responding to color, form, or texture—they’re meeting parts of my inner world. Each work carries reflection, vulnerability, and lived experience. Sharing that takes courage and trust.
There is also the constant presence of uncertainty. This isn’t a path where effort guarantees immediate reward. Some days are filled with devotion that has no visible return. What keeps me moving forward is not discipline alone, but belief—belief in the work, in its purpose, and in a larger intelligence at play. I’ve learned to cooperate with the universe rather than try to control every outcome. My responsibility is to show up fully and work with honesty. The rest unfolds in ways that can’t always be planned, often arriving as synchronicities —the meaningful way people, events, and opportunities seem to meet at exactly the right moment—and the subtle guidance that surrounds every choice.
Can you briefly introduce yourself and share what makes you or your brand unique?
I’m Katerina Husar Lazarova, a visual artist originally from the Czech Republic, now based in San Diego. Last year I’m working primarily with sculptural paintings that break free from the flat canvas. My work merges painting and form, creating layered, multidimensional pieces that invite viewers to look closer, feel more deeply, and discover new stories within each curve, color, and contour.
I’m drawn to organic forms that flow, overlap, and interact like emotions or the invisible connections between people and places. In this collection, wooden shapes, painted with bright acrylics and detailed with fine ink, play with light, shadow, and texture, creating scenes that feel both familiar and mysterious. Each shape has its own story, moving between bold and gentle, clear and dreamy, so new details emerge as you spend time with it, drawing you deeper into the work.
My art is meant to do more than decorate — it brings spaces to life and invites connection, reflection, and discovery. Every piece is a conversation, a story, a moment of presence that I hope resonates with those who experience it.
Great, so let’s dive into your journey a bit more. What’s a moment that really shaped how you see the world?
One moment that truly shaped how I see the world came when I realized that life isn’t just about effort or control. It’s also about presence, trust, and alignment—being in tune with myself, my values, and the direction my inner voice is guiding me toward. I began to understand that what we deeply desire often points us toward our true path. I learned that when we quiet our minds and listen, guidance, opportunities, and unexpected connections begin to appear in ways we can’t plan or force.
That understanding shifted the way I approach my art and my life. I’ve come to see creativity not only as a practice but as a conversation with something greater than ourselves — a flow that asks for discipline and dedication but also invites surrender, intuition, and openness to what is emerging. Moments of inspiration, chance encounters, and even challenges feel like signposts, teaching me to trust timing, synchronicity, and the subtle guidance that surrounds every choice.
This perspective transformed my relationship to my work, my process, and my life. It’s taught me that true growth comes when we balance intention with receptivity, when we commit fully to our path yet remain open to the magic and guidance that often arrives unexpectedly.
Was there ever a time you almost gave up?
Haha — honestly, I wanted to quit at the beginning of every single quarter during my bachelor’s studies. I started university when I was 38, and the moment a new syllabus appeared, with deadlines and expectations, my first thought was often, “Why did I think this was a good idea?”
My husband knew the pattern very well. He would laugh and say, “Here we go again,” and then patiently talk me through it. He always reminded me that the feeling of wanting to quit shows up before growth does — not because you can’t do it, but because you’re stretching into something unfamiliar.
What that experience taught me is that the urge to give up doesn’t mean you’re on the wrong path. Often, it means you’re exactly where you need to be. There’s no point in counting how many times you want to quit — what matters is what you do the next morning. You wake up, you show up, and you take the next small step.
And that’s how I made it through — quarter by quarter — finishing my studies with great grades. It became one of my strongest lessons in resilience: discomfort is temporary, growth is earned, and persistence quietly changes who you believe you are capable of becoming.
Sure, so let’s go deeper into your values and how you think. What’s a belief or project you’re committed to, no matter how long it takes?
I’m deeply committed to my art and to the belief that creativity is not just something I do, but something I am. I believe, no matter how long it takes, that I can build a life where my work exists fully in the world. I see my work living in both intimate spaces of private homes, as well as integrated into public environments like restaurants, cafés, and cultural spaces, where sculptural paintings can fill entire rooms that people can walk into, feel surrounded by, and experience collectively.
There have been moments when supporting this dream has been financially difficult, and times when the path felt uncertain. But stopping has never felt like a real option. Creating is too deeply woven into who I am. Even when progress is slow, even when doubt appears, the vision remains steady.
Even if, for some reason, I could no longer paint, creativity would still guide me. It’s my way of thinking, of problem-solving, of seeing connections where others might not. I would bring it into anything I do. This belief—that creativity has value, that it can shape spaces, touch people, and create shared experiences—is something I’m committed to for a lifetime, no matter how long the journey takes.
Thank you so much for all of your openness so far. Maybe we can close with a future oriented question. Could you give everything your best, even if no one ever praised you for it?
Yes—absolutely. And honestly, that’s what being an artist trains you to do every single day.
Most days, it’s just me in the studio, layers drying, music humming softly, no audience, no applause. Still, I show up and give everything my best. Not because someone is watching, but because creating is how I listen to myself. Each brushstroke feels like a small conversation—sometimes clear, sometimes confusing—revealing something I didn’t know I was carrying until it appeared on the surface.
There are times I step back, exhausted, wondering, Why am I doing this? Does anyone even care? I’ve thought that more times than I can count. As I already mentioned, during my studies I wanted to quit every semester, but that feeling never really disappeared; it just changed form. Art has its rhythm: doubt, frustration, the urge to walk away. Still, the next morning, I return.
I’ve learned that those quiet, unseen moments are not failures—they’re lessons. They teach patience, humility, and resilience. They remind me that commitment isn’t loud or glamorous; it’s steady. It’s showing up even when no one is clapping, when the work feels invisible, when progress is slow.
Recognition is beautiful when it arrives, but it can’t be the reason I create. The real magic lies in the process—in experimenting, in getting lost, in making mistakes, and discovering unexpected beauty through those moments. That dedication shapes the work, but it also shapes me. It changes how I see, how I feel, how I move through the world.
So yes, I give everything my best—every day. Because in the end, knowing you gave your best—seen or unseen—creates something unshakable inside you. And giving yourself fully to something you believe in, even in silence, is always worth it.
Contact Info:
- Website: https://www.lazarova.art
- Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/artkaterinalazarova/
- Linkedin: https://www.linkedin.com/in/katerina-husar-lazarova-24b88553/
- Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/katuliart/
- Yelp: https://www.yelp.com/biz/fine-art-of-katerina-husar-lazarova-san-diego
- Other: Studio at Liberty Station Arts District:
https://libertystation.com/go/katerina-1
I’d love to welcome you to my First Friday Open Studio from 4 to 8 PM at Liberty Station Arts District, 2730 Historic Decatur Rd, San Diego. Many other studios will be open too—come explore and connect
