With a long former career as a graphic designer in fashion and book publishing, the Miami artist has been an acolyte to color. To this day, “I have a Pantone chart in my head,” she says with a laugh. But only abstract painting allowed her to play with the full spectrum. “As a designer, everything had to be perfectly communicated,” explains Pasman, who began pursuing art full time in 2017. “Through painting, I could break away from that demanding side of myself.”

A collection of her paintings rests in a corner of her white- box studio at Collective 62, a close-knit community of female artists in Liberty City.

A collection of her paintings rests in a corner of her white- box studio at Collective 62, a close-knit community of female artists in Liberty City.

Pasman's desk is a wealth of inspiration.

Pasman's desk is a wealth of inspiration.

Pasman paints vibrantly abstract works.

Pasman paints vibrantly abstract works.

Some of her pieces incorporate materials such as textiles.

Some of her pieces incorporate materials such as textiles.

Others feature personal mementos, including Argentinian vintage stamps that belonged to the artist's late father-in-law.

Others feature personal mementos, including Argentinian vintage stamps that belonged to the artist's late father-in-law.

Though abstract in its final form, her work often begins with figurative drawings or written words referencing snapshots of her life, such as old photos of loved ones passed and candid clips of her children. The artist writes or loosely outlines forms on paper or canvas, only to then cover everything in free-flowing abstraction. “They all come from personal narratives,” she says, “but you would never know they’re there.”

These hidden emotional undercurrents seep through her carefully planned palettes, like the marine blues and greens running across her “Agua de Mar” series, mostly inspired by photographs of locations that have marked her life from Buenos Aires to Miami. Pasman rotates the surface as she paints, imbuing her lush drips, strokes and washes of layered acrylics and oils with unbridled movement. “I want to be fluid in my painting,” she explains. The only element the artist preplans is the color scheme, otherwise forgoing sketches or research. This approach allows for an intuitive, free- form process of living in the moment, which ultimately leads to the final creation.

Her hues reached new heights in her paintings rendered on spools of paper. The artist suspends them from the ceiling in waterfalls of color and gently folds them, without creasing, into open, wavy forms to create visual movement. First used as a practical space-saving measure, she soon found painting on unfurled rolls to be an uncharted horizon she could tap into. “It gave me space to think,” Pasman notes. “And when I was hanging them, I discovered they could be sculptures.”

She plays with these newfound forms, experimenting with collaging photographs and stitching textile elements in her pieces. A varying soundtrack of podcasts and audiobooks sets the tone in her white- box studio at Collective 62, a close-knit community of female artists in Liberty City. Here, fortified with abundant natural light and endless potential hues, anything feels possible. “I consider my art to be in its childhood stage,” the artist says with a smile. “I am discovering myself, playing a lot, enjoying the movement—and I know good things will come.”

PHOTOS: MARY BETH KOETH