BIOGRAPHY
Christina Moralez King is a multidisciplinary artist based in Sacramento, California. Working across painting, photography, mixed media, installation, light, and translucent materials, her practice explores memory, perception, time, and the unseen forces that shape lived experience.
Her work often moves between abstraction and recognizable imagery, bringing together fragments of bodies, landscapes, architecture, religious iconography, and natural forms. Light appears throughout her practice not simply as illumination, but as a material—something that passes through, obscures, reveals, and leaves a trace.
Drawing from personal memory while resisting literal autobiography, Moralez King creates spaces where multiple realities seem to exist at once. Her work is concerned with thresholds: between presence and absence, the physical and the spiritual, memory and invention, what can be seen and what can only be felt.
Across mediums, she returns to the possibility that nothing disappears completely—that places, bodies, and objects retain something of what has passed through them.
ARTIST STATEMENT
I am interested in what remains.
My work begins with the sense that the world contains more than what is immediately visible—that places, objects, and bodies hold traces of what has passed through them. I work across painting, photography, mixed media, installation, light, and translucent materials to explore those traces.
Images often come to me as fragments: a window, a body, a power line, a halo, a patch of sky, an opening in the trees. I am drawn to moments when something ordinary becomes briefly unfamiliar, when the physical world seems to open onto another one.
Light is central to this process. It passes through fabric, glass, atmosphere, and the camera lens. It obscures as much as it reveals. Sometimes it becomes an image itself. I think of light as a kind of witness—a carrier of time and information, touching things and continuing beyond them.
My work also draws from memory, ritual, religious imagery, and experiences that resist easy explanation. I am less interested in illustrating those experiences than in recreating their sensation: the feeling of standing at a threshold, of recognizing something without knowing why, or sensing that something has been present before you arrived.
I return again and again to translucency, repetition, fragmentation, geometry, and the body because they allow different realities to occupy the same space.
The work does not ask the viewer to solve these images.
It asks them to stay with them.
To notice what passes through.
And what remains.