About

HI THERE, NICE TO MEET YOU!

I’m Danielle Nelisse. Born in Detroit, Michigan, now living in Hawaii, I essentially migrated from Motor City grit to tropical jungle bliss. A logical progression, obviously.

Growing up in a working-class neighborhood as the oldest of seven children meant zero space for art—physically or mentally. No art museums, no fancy outings, no “let’s explore our creative side.” I also assumed all artists were men, which tells you a lot. My father worked in an auto plant; my mother was a nurse—so dedicated that police once had to escort her to work during the Detroit race riots of the 1960s. You could say my childhood was… eventful.

We eventually moved to Southern California, where the official family plan was for me to become either a nurse or a bank teller. Plot twist: I got expelled from high school for being pregnant. So I became a teen mom, got married, and learned that women at the time weren’t even allowed their own bank accounts or in some cases, to wear pants to work. Still, I dreamed of a life that involved art supplies. Political protests helped, and so did discovering the magical world of student loans. A degree in Women’s Studies showed me that not only did women artists exist, but so did women lawyers… and—who knew?—female private detectives.

Life delivered its share of heartbreak: the loss of one of my sisters, one of my children, and my father. Those losses shape how I see the world and pour themselves into my paintings whether I invite them or not.

Every place I’ve ever lived had a makeshift art studio — be it a kitchen, garage, shed, or carport. After a long and winding road, I now live in a jungle house on Maui with my best friend/husband Bjorn and our two delightfully mismatched dogs. It’s peaceful here, unless you count geckos, roosters, or unexpected tropical weather.

These days I’ve hung up the business suits, legal briefs, and undercover disguises. Instead, I’m translating my past into a visual journal—one messy, glorious oil painting at a time. My art has shifted from representational work to expressive abstraction, and now it’s basically all my emotions yelling in color. But, you know, poetically.