Through Darkness, Colors Do Emerge: How Nicole Ackerman’s Abstract Art Became a Radical Act of Self-Empowerment
Written by Daniel Fusch
No doubt, Nicole Ackerman’s abstract paintings are a feast of luminous color: bold pinks, searing oranges, and electric blues, dancing across deep, matte black canvases. But linger for a moment and one will see something deeper: a quiet defiance, a refusal to dim, and a celebration of light that insists on existing, even in the darkest spaces. For Ackerman, this is an aesthetic she chose. She shares, “I’ve tried painting on white backgrounds, but it just didn’t resonate with me. My work, for me, is about finding that light and letting it pop through darkness, through the black canvas.”
Ackerman’s career has never been straightforward. She graduated with dual bachelor’s degrees in cultural anthropology and fine art, after studying painting and photography at a renowned university in New York. Art had always been her first love; she was winning awards in school and exhibiting work by the early 2000s, but, like so many creatives, she took a detour. “The idea of being a starving artist terrified me,” she admits. “So I went into sales and told myself it was the safe choice.”
The ‘safe’ choice became a decade-long career selling everything from radio advertising to industrial chemicals, all while raising two children as a single mom, fostering others, and serving on a community sports board. But behind the professional polish, Ackerman felt a growing disconnect. “There’s only so much of me that can go around,” she says. “I do so much for others. Why couldn’t I carve out something just for me?”
That something was a return to her own creative voice. Ackerman had spent 20 years creating on commission for designers, making pieces to their specifications. But in 2023, she made a decision: to build something for herself from the ground up.
Her new work, lush, high-contrast abstracts on black, emerged as both an artistic signature and a metaphor for personal transformation. “This is the opposite of my sales life,” she says. “Sales is performing for someone else. This is purely for me. If I like it, I keep it. If I don’t, I rework it until I do.”
Her pieces are visceral reflections of what she calls ‘managing chaos,’ a concept rooted in survival and self-reconnection. It’s no accident that her artistic revival coincided with a deeper personal reckoning. She says, “I burned bridges in my sales career as I realized those relationships and environments weren’t serving me. The universe was telling me I wasn’t being authentic to myself. And I had a choice: keep betraying myself or take the plunge into who I really am.”
Abstract art, Ackerman notes, often defaults to a pale, airy palette. By rejecting that norm and working against a black field, she’s subverting expectations while creating work that vibrates with depth and intensity.
She’s also committed to community. A passionate collector of street art, Ackerman makes a point of buying from up-and-coming artists during her travels. “If something catches my eye, I want to contribute to that artist’s life,” she states. “Art needs people willing to invest in it at every stage.”
This ethos extends to her own career. She’s grown her following organically, one piece, one post, one conversation at a time, earning features in artist magazines, and preparing for a public speaking venture that intertwines her story with her art.
If Ackerman’s work is about light in darkness, her personal story carries the same current. She is clear that her art isn’t born solely from trauma, but from the need to reconnect with herself in a life overflowing with responsibilities.
“No one survives childhood unscathed,” she says. “I’m not claiming my life has been defined by trauma. But if I don’t create for myself, the depression sinks in, and the questioning of value starts. This is me giving myself grace.”
Her advice to others mirrors the arc of her own life: break the rules one has been told to live by. “We’re taught to choose the safe option, but that can go against your spiritual purpose,” she says. “It’s okay to do something purely for you. You can’t be everything to everyone.”
Now, Ackerman is all in, exploring international markets, expanding her exhibitions, and stepping fully into the role of ‘front page’ in her own life. “In my late teens, people loved my work and wanted more of me,” she says. “Now, I want that energy back, not to go backwards, but to move forward with that same fire. I want my art to be recognized for what it is.”
If Ackerman’s story resonates, her art is now available to collectors worldwide.
