Tell us a little about you! Where you live, what you like to do for fun, etc etc.
Hi, I’m Wyatt! I live in Echo Park, Los Angeles, in a little one-bedroom house that doubles as my painting studio. I share it with my dog Pippa—mother to ten pups, queen of the roost, warrior. For the past decade, I’ve ended most nights with a walk around Echo Park Lake. I like seeing the lights on the water, watching the ducks sleep, and walking past unique people. There’s something different every night.
Can you describe the themes you find yourself returning to in your work?
My work explores the humor and tenderness of everyday life. I’m drawn to warped interiors, surreal details, pulsing colors, and figures in exaggerated postures. Early cartoons and nostalgia seep in. I want objects to misbehave, rooms to stretch, and quiet feelings to hum beneath the surface. Ideally, the paintings feel familiar yet slightly uncanny, like they’re whispering stories that spill beyond the edges of the canvas. More than anything, I want them to be joyful.
Your paintings often balance figuration with a sense of narrative ambiguity. How does that sensibility carry into this project?
I came from creative writing and studied literature in school. I think that’s why my paintings have a narrative focus. Tulip shades are a great chance to tell a visual story. Whether it’s through a little guy climbing the shade seam like it’s a rope, or a man tightrope walking the center crossbar, I wanted to use the elements of the shade’s construction as functional props for characters.
What was the starting point for your Tulip series?
It started with the idea of a tightrope walker. That central seam in the Tulip shade—the one with the crossbar—felt like a high wire waiting for a character to balance on.
Do you think of these pieces as part of your painting practice, or as something new entirely?
They’re very much part of my practice. Recently, I’ve painted sinks, toilets, bathtubs… everyday objects that carry stories in their form. The lampshades are a continuation of taking an object and turning it playful.
How does the idea of light - literal or metaphorical - inform your work?
I want my work to encourage a lightness of being. I want my paintings to speak to the lighter parts of existence. I like light colors. I’m after joy!
Who or what are you looking at most closely right now for inspiration?
I think I’m most influenced by comedy and comedians. There’s an absurdist sensibility that I’m really attracted to. I’m thinking about Monty Python, Tim and Eric, Spinal Tap, etc. I do my best work when I remember that my work isn’t all that important. That invites a sense of play and abandon and coaxes out my true voice.
I’m always inspired by David Hockney, too. He inspired me to paint.
What does it mean to you to create work that people live with in their homes?
I’m sensitive to how the objects and colors in my house affect my mood. Every object in a home holds the potential to uplift. I keep that in mind when I’m painting for a home. I want the piece to be a positive force. Maybe it evokes a story.
If someone acquires one of these pieces, what do you hope they feel when they turn on the light?
Delighted!
What inspired your design? What materials did you use? What was your process?
The design was inspired by the idea of looking up. Just as you look up at a Tulip shade on the ceiling, I thought about things that naturally draw our gaze upward: a tightrope walker, clouds, stars, a dancer on a stage, someone climbing a rope.
I used fabric paint, layering it until the opacity created sharp silhouettes. That way, when the light shines through, the shapes are like shadows.
Get to Know Wyatt Bunce
Tell us a little about you! Where you live, what you like to do for fun, etc etc.
Hi, I’m Wyatt! I live in Echo Park, Los Angeles, in a little one-bedroom house that doubles as my painting studio. I share it with my dog Pippa—mother to ten pups, queen of the roost, warrior. For the past decade, I’ve ended most nights with a walk around Echo Park Lake. I like seeing the lights on the water, watching the ducks sleep, and walking past unique people. There’s something different every night.
Can you describe the themes you find yourself returning to in your work?
My work explores the humor and tenderness of everyday life. I’m drawn to warped interiors, surreal details, pulsing colors, and figures in exaggerated postures. Early cartoons and nostalgia seep in. I want objects to misbehave, rooms to stretch, and quiet feelings to hum beneath the surface. Ideally, the paintings feel familiar yet slightly uncanny, like they’re whispering stories that spill beyond the edges of the canvas. More than anything, I want them to be joyful.
Your paintings often balance figuration with a sense of narrative ambiguity. How does that sensibility carry into this project?
I came from creative writing and studied literature in school. I think that’s why my paintings have a narrative focus. Tulip shades are a great chance to tell a visual story. Whether it’s through a little guy climbing the shade seam like it’s a rope, or a man tightrope walking the center crossbar, I wanted to use the elements of the shade’s construction as functional props for characters.
What was the starting point for your Tulip series?
It started with the idea of a tightrope walker. That central seam in the Tulip shade—the one with the crossbar—felt like a high wire waiting for a character to balance on.
Do you think of these pieces as part of your painting practice, or as something new entirely?
They’re very much part of my practice. Recently, I’ve painted sinks, toilets, bathtubs… everyday objects that carry stories in their form. The lampshades are a continuation of taking an object and turning it playful.
How does the idea of light - literal or metaphorical - inform your work?
I want my work to encourage a lightness of being. I want my paintings to speak to the lighter parts of existence. I like light colors. I’m after joy!
Who or what are you looking at most closely right now for inspiration?
I think I’m most influenced by comedy and comedians. There’s an absurdist sensibility that I’m really attracted to. I’m thinking about Monty Python, Tim and Eric, Spinal Tap, etc. I do my best work when I remember that my work isn’t all that important. That invites a sense of play and abandon and coaxes out my true voice.
I’m always inspired by David Hockney, too. He inspired me to paint.
What does it mean to you to create work that people live with in their homes?
I’m sensitive to how the objects and colors in my house affect my mood. Every object in a home holds the potential to uplift. I keep that in mind when I’m painting for a home. I want the piece to be a positive force. Maybe it evokes a story.
If someone acquires one of these pieces, what do you hope they feel when they turn on the light?
Delighted!
What inspired your design? What materials did you use? What was your process?
The design was inspired by the idea of looking up. Just as you look up at a Tulip shade on the ceiling, I thought about things that naturally draw our gaze upward: a tightrope walker, clouds, stars, a dancer on a stage, someone climbing a rope.
I used fabric paint, layering it until the opacity created sharp silhouettes. That way, when the light shines through, the shapes are like shadows.