Michelle Atkinson is the kind of artist who doesn’t just make beautiful things—she makes you feel things. Based in Calgary, she translates environmental data into sculptural, glimmering forms that lure you in, only to reveal deeper stories about climate, consumption, and connection. Her work is bold, intentional, and unafraid to ask hard questions—kind of like her.
She used to be a full-time designer with a “safe” career path, but burnout and her insatiable curiosity pushed her to make the leap into full-time art. It wasn’t easy—she gutted it out with grit, research, and a relentless vision. Now, she’s landing exhibitions, corporate commissions, and artist residencies that merge science, sustainability, and emotion in ways most people can’t even imagine.
Michelle doesn’t just talk about environmental impact—she lives it. She’s constantly experimenting with reclaimed materials, circular design, and storytelling that brings people in, rather than shutting them out. Whether she’s leading sustainable art workshops, biking in the Rockies, or obsessing over 16th-century weather records, Michelle is always chasing something deeper.
She’s not here to decorate the world. She’s here to change it—and make it luminous in the process.
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Which ’hood are you in?
I live in West Hillhurst, Calgary. It’s one of those rare neighbourhoods that strikes a perfect balance—close enough to downtown to stay connected, but still quiet, green, and close to the river. I love being able to walk or bike pretty much everywhere. My studio is in Bowness, which is a short ride along the river path in the summer. My studio is a bit grittier and more industrial, which I actually love—it gives me space to experiment (and smash things when needed).
What do you do?
I tell visual stories about humanity’s impact on the environment. My background in design and glass laid the foundation, but now I work across mediums—mixing data visualization, reclaimed materials, and sculpture to create these abstract “cloud forms.” They’re beautiful at first glance, but underneath, they’re built from historical weather data, records of extreme storms, and climate shifts.
In simple terms, I redraw weather charts as organic, amorphous shapes that become layered compositions—sculptural wall works, installations, and screen prints. In future work, I’m pushing this concept further with large hanging clouds made from reclaimed plastics and fabrics—turning waste into wonder.
What are you currently working on?
I’m currently in residence at AUArts, where I’m translating my sculptural wildfire series into 2D works. It’s a chance to explore how the same dataset—historic wildfire records—can shift in meaning and impact when rendered through different materials and formats. The goal is to create a direct comparison between the tactile, layered sculptures and the flatter, print-based versions, while experimenting with silkscreening, recycled paper, and etched plastics to maintain that environmental thread.
The residency also gives me space to push my material research further, testing how digital printing, layering, and embossing can still carry the emotional weight and complexity of the data, even without the cutout “cloud form” physicality.
At the same time, I’m testing sustainability workshops with Saje, where we focus on circular design and low-waste making practices. Everything I’m working on right now is connected by a throughline: how can data, material, and beauty converge to shift how we relate to the climate story?
Where can we find your work?
You can see a selection of my work on my website, and I share process, experiments, and studio life on Instagram. A selection of work is also currently on view at Shag Salon on 17th Ave. I’m represented by the Kostuik Gallery in Vancouver – the team is fantastic, and they have a good selection of my work focused on Canadian climate events. For commissions or collaborations, I’m always open to a good conversation—especially if you’re into sustainability, storytelling, or strange-but-beautiful materials.
