On any given morning, Katie Pumphrey can usually be found in the water before heading to her studio. This routine has become second nature: Swim. Paint. Repeat.
To an outsider, those might seem like two separate lives, that of an internationally recognized marathon swimmer and that of a professional painter whose monumental canvases hang in galleries. But to Pumphrey, the distance between the two is surprisingly short.
Both begin with a leap into uncertainty. Both require endurance more than speed. And both have taught her that the only way to accomplish something that seems impossible is to stop looking at the finish line and simply take the next stroke.
That lesson began long before she arrived at MICA.
Drawing the right card
As a child, Pumphrey knew she wanted to be an artist. She laughs now remembering the board game, Life, where she always hoped to draw the artist career card. Art was never a question. Swimming, however, nearly changed the course of her future.
Throughout middle and high school, she devoted herself to competitive swimming, eventually reaching the point where she faced a difficult choice: continue swimming in college or pursue painting. She chose painting and applied to MICA. Yet, giving up competitive swimming led her back to the sport in an entirely different way.
Without collegiate competition dictating her schedule, she discovered open-water swimming, a discipline that prizes patience over speed and resilience over medals. The sport would eventually carry her across the English Channel three times, through California’s Catalina Channel, and on a celebrated 24-mile swim from the Chesapeake Bay Bridge to Baltimore’s Inner Harbor. But before any of that happened, she learned how to solve impossible problems in the classroom.
“MICA was incredibly challenging,” she says. “But in the best way.”
Understanding the MICA Process
Like many art students, Pumphrey arrived at MICA believing talent alone might carry her forward. Instead, she encountered critiques that demanded clarity, professors who expected ambition, and assignments that often felt larger than her abilities. She was challenged with how to make a painting that communicates exactly what you want to say, and how to transform an intimidating blank canvas into something meaningful. Those questions became less frightening once she learned to break them into manageable pieces.
Years later, standing at the edge of the English Channel before a swim that would last more than 12 hours, she recognized the same challenge. If she thought about swimming across an ocean, the task felt overwhelming. If she focused on one stroke, she could keep moving. Painting and marathon swimming, she realized, were asking exactly the same thing of her.
Evolving and Constant
Since graduating in 2009, Pumphrey’s artwork has evolved dramatically, but water has remained a constant companion. Her early work moved toward abstraction as she dismantled familiar imagery and rebuilt her visual language from the ground up. More recently, swimmers, waves, lane lines, tiled pools, and references to historical paintings have become recurring elements in her work.
She has discovered what fascinates her isn’t simply water itself but its rhythms: The repetition of waves. The repetition of tides. The repetition of a swimmer’s arms reaching forward hour after hour. Those patterns have become visual metaphors for something deeper.
Riding the Wave
Life, she says, arrives in waves. We experience moments of confidence before being knocked off balance, then slowly work our way back again. The repetitions in her paintings echo not only physical movement but also the emotional cycles of fear, anxiety, resilience, and hope. Her paintings ask viewers to linger inside those rhythms. They also invite them inside the space itself.
