I walked into Alrik Yuill’s studio just off Monrovia Ave and instantly felt like I’d stepped into a different rhythm. The warm skylight poured in overhead, casting a calm, golden glow across a curated landscape of sculptures, surfboards, and quiet tools. The space felt more like a sanctuary than a workspace—one where movement, stillness, and creation all coexisted. “Nothing’s off the table,” Alrik said as we settled in, and from there, the conversation took on a flow of its own.
What struck me most about Alrik is how deeply personal his art is—not in a performative way, but in a way that feels like he’s mid-dialogue with the world. Whether he’s painting, sculpting, or shaping a surfboard, there’s an ongoing conversation between body, emotion, nature, and spirit. You can feel it in his words as much as his work.
He grew up surfing—taught by his dad, who passed down not just the mechanics of riding waves, but a reverence for them. “It was almost spiritual,” Alrik told me. “Like, being in harmony with a wave wasn’t just about movement—it was an interaction with gravity, light, energy. You become part of something bigger.”
That reverence for nature flows into his creative process. In his studio, time slows. He alternates between standing, sitting, reclining—anything to keep his body in tune as he works for hours on end. He laughs about forgetting himself while sculpting, ending up in awkward positions because he gets so absorbed. His work, he says, is like a sounding board—a place to process, express, and transform what he’s feeling.
Some pieces, like his large paintings, he returns to again and again—over months or years. Others, like the bronze sculptures formed through the ancient lost-wax casting method, require precision and planning. But even those follow a certain intuitive flow. He’s always experimenting with materials—playing with natural waxes, beeswax, oil clay, even trying out cacao butter and calendula to find the perfect texture for modeling by hand.
What I loved most was how Alrik described his art as orbiting around him—each piece part of a larger constellation, constantly shifting in meaning and form. “Even just putting a little green in that corner changed the whole energy,” he said of one painting. “But if I add to it, I lose what it is now. So sometimes, I just leave it—to reflect off the others.”
His relationship to his pieces is layered. Some he pours his heart into and keeps close for years. Others he lets go, not because he wants to, but because he has to make room for new work. He talks about releasing pieces with care—like sending them out into the world so someone else can feel the sanctuary he’s built into them.
When I asked him how he prices his work, he chuckled. “That’s hard,” he admitted. “They’re all kind of priceless to me.” But over time, he’s found a balance—trying to stay accessible while also acknowledging the time, materials, and soul that go into each piece.
And when I asked what he hopes people take away from his art, his answer reflected the subtlety of his work. He doesn’t want to tell people what to feel. “If you’re going to have something in your home for an extended period of time, it should be able to change with you,” he said. “The light is a little different that day, and it brings out a different part of the poem.”
Before I left, I asked him one last question:
“If you could go back and talk to your younger self, what would you say?”
Alrik smiled and said without hesitation, “Love you, little buddy. It’s gonna be alright.”
And honestly, I felt it. It was such a simple, human reminder—one that felt like the heart of everything he’d shared that day: presence, compassion, and the quiet belief that even in the unknown, there’s a path.
🎨 Follow & Contact Alrik Yuill
- Instagram: @alrikyuill
- Website: www.alrikyuill.com
- Email: info@alrikyuill.com
- Studio Location: Costa Mesa, CA
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