Born in the Philippines and now based in Central Florida, Gleeva Straughn’s creative practice bridges cultures and disciplines, shaped by a dual foundation in civil engineering and editorial design. Quiet and observant by nature, she approaches art-making as her primary dialect—a way of listening to stories, noticing what might otherwise be overlooked, and assembling those observations into physical form.

After earning a degree in Civil Engineering at St. Mary’s College, Straughn developed her visual design discipline through magazine and publication design, later expanding her studies in visual communications. Operating between these fields cultivated both a spatial, analytical rigor—an understanding of proportion, balance, and structural integrity—and an acute sensitivity to narrative framing. In editorial layout, her role was never to overshadow a story, but to organize images, typography, and space to give it clarity and resonance.

Translating those principles from the printed page into a tactile studio practice, she began cutting, repurposing, and rebuilding discarded local publications by hand—a labor-intensive process she describes as “manual Photoshop.” Reluctant to discard print materials that held months of human effort and community storytelling, she began transforming those fragments into physical compositions.

This approach became the foundation for MERGE, an evolving body of work that bridges regional history, place, people, and the institutions that shape community identity. Her zero-paint paper compositions draw from local archives, historic newsprint, and contemporary publications, bringing fragments of different eras together into unified visual narratives.

While MERGE is deeply connected to Central Florida, Straughn’s broader practice extends beyond a single material, subject, or place. Her work continually investigates material memory, structural balance, human resilience, and the relationship between a finished surface and the hidden layers beneath it.

Viewed from a distance, her compositions appear clean and intentional. Up close, they unfold into intricate layers of discarded print, typography, imagery, and historical fragments—inviting viewers to consider the stories held within ordinary materials.