Message in a bottle: Multimedia artist Sara Shepherd Edgar explores connection and narrative

Photo: Neighbors of the Wasatch Back // Deb Dekoff.

Rainbows and bunny rabbits. Poolside wiener dogs in party hats. Circus elephants balancing precariously on colorful stools. At first glance, Sara Shepherd Edgar’s paintings, ceramics, and sculptural papier-mâché forms are whimsical and quirky. “I use bright colors, pastels, and recognizable imagery that might be described as lighthearted or cheerful,” she says. “But once you’re drawn into the work, you can see the deeper themes of a shared human experience and personal relationships. Once these elements draw you in, then you can unpack the layers.”

Sara was born and raised in the Seattle, Washington, area, and her artistic career began in metal. Her mom was an artist who worked in clay and had a kiln in the garage, so art was in her DNA. She earned a fine art degree from the University of Washington in Metal Design and made jewelry-sized sculptures. “I think of them as little narrative jewelry pieces,” she notes. “But not jewelry in the traditional sense.” She showed at a gallery in Seattle, and her work was featured in Jewelry: Fundamentals of Metalsmithing (1997) and Country Living Magazine (2011). Her life shifted after having her daughter Ivy and her son Reilly, which is when parenting took the forefront. “I had a studio with a torch and an enamel kiln, but it got cumbersome with two small children,” she explains. “So, I put metalsmithing on hold.”

The family moved to New Hampshire, where they lived for two-and-a-half years. Her sister-in-law was a painter at the time. “I needed to express myself creatively,” Sara shares. “So, I asked her how to get started. I was intimidated to make the move from three-dimensional to two-dimensional work. But it was much easier to work on canvas at home with kids.” And it stuck: “Once I started painting,” she adds, “I didn’t return to jewelry.”

Sara moved to Park City for her husband’s job in 2005 and started building a body of work. “Eventually, I felt confident enough to approach a gallery here, and that’s when I started showing,” she says. She was represented by Terzian Galleries until 2020 and currently shows at Gallery MAR. While her paintings have primarily been acrylic, she’s recently added oil sticks and collage.

Sara’s unique style is a combination of recognizable imagery (like houses, bowling pins, rotten bananas, or orange traffic cones) arranged into layered visual narratives. “I just did a collage of old to-do lists and grocery lists that I had saved,” she says. “I painted with acrylic and oil over it. Some of the lists peek out, so it’s voyeuristic in some sense. You can see a life underneath.”

Playful imagery belies deeper themes of nostalgia and resilience. For example, her recent postcard series, Postcards from Home, shows lighthearted scenes. “With postcards, you’re on vacation, so you’re having fun,” she says. “You’re sending a postcard because you wish a loved one was with you. Conceptually, an underlying theme of presence runs through the series—the longing for a loved one to be present, physically or emotionally, who may not be.”

Some images, such as tally marks, recur throughout her work. “Tally marks are so much in my zeitgeist right now, even my ceramics,” she remarks. “It’s a counting—all the things in your life that you count, including keeping score in personal relationships. Mentally, you’re tallying, and you don’t even know it.” It’s that universality that draws viewers in. “Those symbols may be obvious, or not,” she says. “But they let the viewer interpret the narrative through their own experiences.”

Most recently, Sara has returned to three-dimensional work with ceramics and sculptural papier-mâché. “It’s a quirky kind of medium,” she says. “I was inspired by an artist I ran across on Instagram. He was elevating papier-mâché into an artform, and a lot of the imagery I use in my paintings can be translated into 3D.” Her papier-mâché forms led to ceramic sculptures, many of which, in Gallery MAR, have house shapes and bowling pins. “My current work includes bowling pins,” says Sara. “So, I’m super attached to them. They are part of a game, an analogy. From the perspective of a bowling pin, the game is violent; they get knocked down, and they get back up again. It resonates with me.”

Of course, not everything has to mean something. Sometimes pools are just pools, and dogs are just funny. “You don’t need to understand the deeper meaning to enjoy a wiener dog in a party hat,” she says, laughing. “I give myself permission to choose work that makes people smile as well. It’s personal and layered, yes. But it’s also simply fun.”

Sara is also building her art business on an Etsy account, where she sells smaller ceramic artwork. Her wise, curious, and contemplative work captivates and intrigues. One of her circus pieces has been transformed into an album cover for the Austin-based band Far From Saints, and used in the music video for one of their songs, “Take It Through the Night.” Her circus series features elephants, giraffes, snake charmers, and more. For Sara, circus elephants represent the elephant in the room, as well as a sense of performing various roles within relationships.

She earned an Award of Merit in the 88th Annual Spring Salon 2012 Springville Museum of Art, and her work was shown as recently as 2025. Her artist statement for the 2025 Springville Museum of Art entry, Seeking Buoyancy, reads: “There’s a deep joy I feel as an artist simply in having my work out in the world—knowing someone might pause to engage with the imagery, to find their own meaning in the narrative. That connection is why I create. Art has been my therapy—a way to channel my stories, my struggles, and my experiences into something visual and honest. Through sharing those moments, I hope to resonate with others, to spark understanding, and to remind both myself and the viewer that we’re not alone. It’s been a vital outlet of expression. It’s my message in a bottle.”

Those of us lucky enough to interact with Sara’s work are grateful for the vibrant colors and the invitation to connect, to relate with and immerse ourselves in her unique, sometimes profound perspective. And for wiener dogs, of course.