THE FRAGILE BEAUTY: STEVEN KENWORTHY
"We are only here for a short time so we should absolutely be present, but always ready to move on. "
On the one hand, the story of Steven Kenworthy is one of constant motion, yet on the other, it is the story of a man who truly appreciates the power of the moment. This is the journey of a painter, a poet, a fintech aficionado, a former interrogator, and a believer – a man who doesn’t wait for the right time, but creates the opportunity.
In this conversation, Steven shares about who gave him the final push that led him to the canvas, his unique philosophy on existence, and his beloved France. I welcome you to take a step into Steven’s world.
Day One by Steven Kenworthy, 2026
Your painting journey started a little over a year ago, sparked by an exhibition of a French artist you admire. Who is that artist, and what specifically about their work clicked for you?
That artist is Simon Buret. Having not paid attention to any living painter thus far in my life, I bumped into his work on accident, but became infatuated with his ability to mesh surrealist imagery with, to me, very real emotions. Viewing his work always felt like I had been given access to some sort of beautiful dream, but with very tangible characters. His whimsical technique, color palette and themes were almost too similar to how I often saw the world. So, for those reasons - I guess it was perfectly reasonable that I genuinely obsessed over his work. In a sense, it felt like he was painting through a lens I’d known for years.
While you only picked up a brush recently, I was wondering whether the impulse to paint is something that had been sitting in the background since childhood, or did it arrive out of nowhere?
I’ve always been a creative at heart. I wrote and performed poetry for a decade. I loved drawing as a kid. I have always had a passion for photography and sold my content in a number of format. In my middle years though, I began framing antiques and fell in love with visual art again and again on a daily basis. Selling that small art business left a giant hole in me, which I think became the perfect void for painting. I’m not sure I’ve always had it in me to paint, but that missing creative thing paired with a serendipitous trip to France - eventually became my golden moment to just go and do it. The precise instance will never escape me when my wife and I were in NIL Gallery (in Le Marais, Paris) and I just stopped and plainly said to her , “When we get home, I’m going to paint.” And that’s exactly what I did.
“Faith is a lifehack to optimism.”
Poetry was your primary creative outlet for years. Do you view your paintings as a visual continuation of your written work? Also, would you be open to sharing a few lines of your poetry?
I want to say yes, but I’m not sure. I would say they’re both a bit of a wander through a dream-laced reality. Even then I wrote with one foot in my actual, physical world and the other in a place where my mind would constantly wander. In that sense, I am a textbook dreamer so the visions are always there. It’s slowing down, and gathering my infinitely-frayed attention long enough to put them to canvas. I look back some 900+ poems later and joke that only 4 or 5 are “any good”.
Here is a snippet from one of those few from “NEGATIVE CAPABILITY” - a lengthy work about the phantasmic presence of the one who may or may not have gotten away.
your cotton spun piano hands teeth and skeleton keys unlock me back to life
is not fair i’ve missed you i’ve overslept
i woke up at the shore of your hips and headboard
cuban missile orange blossom crisis
explosions
floating next to your Havana sky drifting across my chest.
the clouds as wet as the ocean on your neck.
quiet freckles whisper porcelain over your shoulders. they shhh so soft
the constellation of goosebumps from here to there. slowly
where am i have you gone wrong right
the ship the sinking planets. i am beside myself next to you
we are dancing bronze in the rain’s collapse
into
your bony limbs feel good against mine.
i am drowning in a sea of your facial expressions
i walk like a spider behind your knees.
Her Perfect Warmth by Steven Kenworthy, 2026
France seems to be a recurring favorite in your travels. Beyond the museums and the art history, what is it about the vibe or lifestyle there that resonates with you?
I’d say just about everything and not be too far off. Strangely enough, my dad is from France and I sometimes joke that the only thing he gave me was his “Frenchness”. I do sometimes wonder if there’s a deeper connection there, but I’m not sure that’s it. If anything, what jumps out the most is that feeling in the air that people just genuinely care about the cultural things that have real value Certainly, it doesn’t apply to all, but when I’m back in France, it feels like a soft trip to the past where you scrape away all of the stuff that doesn’t matter and soak in art and appreciation for old things. That sentiment hangs in the air. You don’t have to look for it. It is all around you. Sure, technology is omnipresent and you can’t dodge modernity, but the passion for what was, and the ghosts of her rich history are everywhere you go.
In one of your social media posts, you once said that "Faith is a lifehack to optimism." Can you expand on that? And can you share how your relationship with God has helped you navigate throughout your life?
For me, if you’re truly dialed into your Christian faith, it is hard to let negativity, bad news, tragedy, etc. soak in much further than the surface. It goes less than skin deep. My faith allows me to go through life knowing that no matter how bad it gets - this problem, that issue, this world event - that in the end, it will wash out for the better. When you have an eternal perspective with one eye on heaven and the other on the ground, it is hard to get too upset about any material event. This life is so temporary. We’re not designed for this broken planet, so my faith is just a constant reminder that I’m in a complex stopover with a lot of problems that thankfully aren’t mine to solve. I am just a passenger on my way to the next (best) place.
There is tremendous freedom in this thinking, in this faith.
Stepping into the social media game is a major shift from a private career and can be a bit nerve-wracking. How have you found the process of opening up your creative journey to an internet audience?
Yes and no. I say yes because I don’t love being photographed, sharing selfies or even being on video, but I say no because I’m comfortable in front of any audience. For me it’s always that strange balance of, look I’m doing something and I want to share it with you and - this isn’t about me, I’m not unique or special, I’m just sharing my paintings. I’m always excited to share new work, but never at the cost of it feeling egocentric. Like the question above. This life isn’t even about me. If something I create moves someone in an emotional way or gives them a certain feeling, I’m just thankful for that.
July 25th, 2025, was the day your first exhibition took place. Now that the dust has settled, what is the biggest lesson you took away from that experience, and how did it impact your creative vision?
The biggest takeaway I’d say is that you cannot let weather, venue and audience size own your emotional response. It was a wild day for a storm. My venue was far from ideal and I had no social following. That said, the few folks who turned up, spent time with my work and those that purchased - wow, I was just in such a state of gratitude. The conversations I had about my paintings, and some of the people I was able to interact with made every moment meaningful. To be honest, it didn’t impact my creative vision whatsoever. I walked away from that the same. Just more grateful maybe.
Twice Shy by Steven Kenworthy, 2025
Themes of the afterlife, ghosts, and death are frequent in your work. Why do you think you're drawn to finding beauty in subjects that others might find unsettling?
There is tremendous beauty in the fragility of death. A life well-lived is a beautiful story from beginning to end. Couple that with an eternal resting place that is infinitely more kind and loving than earth is an easy destination for my mind to wander. The ghosts are often representative of the people who’ve come and gone, or will go soon. Our physical bodies are so temporary and limited.
Too, I’ve always kind of embraced an adversarial outlook, especially when it comes to finding light in the dark. Since death is in many cultures and conversations a taboo or unsettling topic, I can’t help but see the underlying beauty hidden beneath. Besides, anything that is delicate or fragile, anything that is fleeting has these subtle built-in layers of romance. Death is kind of the apex representation of that.
In your piece Field of Stars, there’s a balance between the cosmic and the mythological. Can you walk us through the creative process of that work – what was the inspiration behind it?
I’ve always had a deep heart for animals, often to borderline full-on personification. I don’t openly share that because people would laugh, but animals have giant souls.
Too, I often reflect on the stars as a giant canvas of God’s work. Anything can happen up there. It’s foreign and broad, romantic and too distant to fully know. I love knowing that I can’t even begin to understand their grandeur and complexity.
When I marry these two worlds in my mind, I can envision the limitless beauty of His creation. I know that mythological creatures exist from Greek, Roman, Norse ages, etc., but why would the Heavens be limited to a simple horse, or woman? How far could creation go?
That said, without giving an explicit play-by-play about the painting’s meaning, it could just as well be a melancholic woman trapped in a deer’s body. It could be a constellation waiting for her love to return home. It could be a future state where nothing is what it seems, but everything makes perfect sense. It is ultimately up to the viewer to decide.
Courtesy of Steven Kenworthy
As a final thought, when someone walks away from your work with just one new perspective or feeling, what would you want that to be?
I would hope that they have an emotional response that questions not just the love and loss in their lives, but what happens next. Every feeling, every thought, every relationship has a next wave, but if you zoom out far enough, everything is fleeting as well. There is a romantic confusion in that juxtaposition.
Without getting lost in the future, we are only here for a short time so we should absolutely be present, but always ready to move on. That fragile beauty is so real. It’s living on the edge of a breath.
“Without getting lost in the future, we are only here for a short time so we should absolutely be present, but always ready to move on.”
The conclusions here are obvious: through this conversation, there is a distinct sense of uplift. Steven’s journey reminds us to appreciate the place we are currently in, the possibilities we hold, and to simply go.
There is an incredible combination of ideas at play in Steven’s world, he understands that our time here is temporary, yet instead of anxiety, that realization fills him with determination. It is a rare skill – to tame the unique beauty of death and use it as a tool to create. As we leave this conversation, only one word keeps ringing in my head, and that is: Live!
See more of Steven’s work on Instagram.
Article by Vasya Kavka
Based in Ukraine, Vasya Kavka is a writer working at the intersection of contemporary art and digital culture. Through his platform @ambient.delusion, he researches emerging and underground artists, publishing interviews and editorial features that move beyond aesthetics to examine context, creative process and cultural relevance. His work is driven by curiosity and a commitment to thoughtful, accessible storytelling that situates artistic practices within the broader currents shaping contemporary culture.
