Paulina Ree was born in Quito, Ecuador in 1981. She moved to New Jersey, United States at the age of fifteen, and then went on to graduate with a degree in Economics from Boston College in 2006. Upon moving to London, United Kingdom, she worked as a paralegal and studied to earn a Law degree from the College of Law in 2012.
In 2011 she moved to Oslo, Norway where she currently resides with her husband and three daughters. Paulina participated in an artist Critique Group with the Artist Mother Podcast program in 2020, which she is still involved in. Additionally, she is continually developing her art practice and trains under Carl-Martin Sandvold at the Oslo Malerklubb.
Paulina is a member of Artist Mums United, Spilt Milk, Thrive Together Network, Art She Says, and The Curator’s Salon.
Paulina is the founder of Female Artists Oslo and Female Artists Nordic.
My work revolves around themes of memory, rumination, mental health, and human experience, with a particular focus on the emotions of raising children in the absence of a “village.” My work expresses the longing I have for the life I knew growing up. It also explores the ways I am learning to love myself through cultivating mindfulness and practicing regular self-love, as well as nourishing my soul through being involved in art communities. It is introspection as much as it is a story of the life I have lived and of those who have been a part of it.
Art has always been an integral part of who I am. Since 2021 I have been regularly working in my art practice.
I use music and old photographs as my main inspiration. I find comfort in the music that was with me during my upbringing. Mostly boleros and pasillos, music styles popular in my native Ecuador. The songs are mostly romantic, with slow tempos, and many talks about treachery and broken hearts. These songs convey deep feelings of nostalgia and melancholy. I am currently working on a series titled after well-known boleros.
Growing up surrounded by music, my grandfather is a musician and my memories from childhood are filled with singing at family gatherings. I see my life as a rokola, an old-style jukebox, music always in the background for the highs and lows of life. For the joyous days dancing on the beach as a child with my aunts, great memories filled with laughter, and the darker times when I was diagnosed with cancer and the shock and fear took over me.