ELY—The first thing you notice about Dafne Caruso’s work isn’t the subject matter — it’s the colors. Electric purples dance across a familiar Ely storefront. A pink elephant trumpets. A purple moose stands proudly.
“If it’s realistic, then I might as well take a picture,” Caruso explains from her shop, The Art Corner, which is inside what used to be exclusively her husband’s custom theater installation business. “I paint based on feeling, I guess.”
That feeling, it turns out, has deep roots stretching back to 1960s Colombia and a childhood shaped by immigration, family tradition, and the vivid palette of South American culture.
A heritage in color
Born in New York City to Colombian parents who had migrated just three years earlier, Caruso grew up in a household where Spanish was the first language and Colombian culture painted everything in bold strokes. Her grandmother, who had supported 10 children after her husband’s murder by rolling cigars and sewing clothes, kept dress patterns tucked under sofa cushions. Her father, a dentist, treated denture-making as an art form, crafting each piece by hand.
“Everything about my upbringing was around the Colombian culture,” she reflects. “We didn’t speak English. My parents didn’t speak English. Everything was just the colors, and I think you kind of absorbed that.”
The artistic gene seemed to run strong in the family. Her older brother, Warren Arcila, became an accomplished artist, and Caruso suspects they might even be distantly related to Fernando Botero, Colombia’s most famous artist known for his distinctive rotund figures.
But for decades, Caruso believed art was something other people did.
Finding home in Ely
Caruso’s path to Ely began with a 2002 family vacation to visit her brother Warren, who was already established in the community. Living in Lawrence, Mass. —a city she describes as crime-ridden and restrictive for her young daughters—she was immediately struck by something precious: freedom.
“What got me was the freedom for my children to be kids,” she said. The contrast was stark. In Massachusetts, she couldn’t walk 15 blocks to the library without hearing gunshots. In Ely, her daughters could simply be children.
Within two weeks of returning home, Caruso knew. Despite her husband’s successful theater installation business and the financial uncertainty of starting over, the family packed up and moved to Ely.
The 40-Year awakening
“I’d see my brother painting and just never thought I could do it,” she said. “But it wasn’t until 2013, when I’m in my mid-40s, that I thought, okay, I’m 40-whatever — if I’m not gonna do it now, I’m not gonna do it at all.”
What followed was a revelation that would reshape not just her own life, but Ely’s entire arts community.
“I found out that really the reason why my brother was so good was because he did it every day. I never did. I just thought it was a gift he had.”
The discovery that artistic skill was learned, not inherited, later became the foundation of her teaching philosophy. As someone who had struggled with the same fears and frustrations as her future students, she could offer something formal art education often couldn’t: genuine empathy.
The accidental art gallery
For years, Caruso worked in her husband’s electronics store, feeling increasingly restless.
“By the seventh year, I was done,” she said with a laugh. “I was twiddling my thumbs. I don’t care about electronic stuff. That’s why I don’t care to know about all the special electronics. It doesn’t interest me.”
The transformation began with a conversation. A friend asked a simple question: “Have you ever thought about opening an art store?”
The timing was perfect. The electronics business didn’t rely on foot traffic any longer, the space was available, and Caruso was ready for something entirely her own. What started as a small art corner gradually expanded.
“Eventually it turned into what it is now,” she says, gesturing toward shelves lined with paints, brushes, fabric and much more.
Teaching through understanding
Today, Caruso’s approach to teaching reflects her own journey as a self-taught artist. Unlike instructors who have students follow every brushstroke, she focuses on techniques and confidence-building.
“I see people get very emotional when we start talking about art,” she said. “Because they remember that one teacher, that one critic who said, ‘You stink and you can’t do it.’”
Her solution is to give permission to create imperfectly.
“Who cares if it’s bad? Who cares if it’s wrong?” she said. “You’re setting yourself up for failure if you think you’re going to come in here, never having done it before, and expect your work to look like somebody who’s done it longer than you.”
When students protest “I can’t,” Caruso gently challenges them.
“With all due respect, that’s your problem right there. What are the consequences? Are you going to die? Is anyone going to get hurt? Nothing can happen if you don’t do this right,” she said.
A living history
Among Caruso’s current projects is a series of Ely buildings rendered in her signature unexpected colors such as a purple Ely Mercantile and other familiar storefronts transformed by her vibrant imagination. She said she’s drawn to the buildings because of their history.
“I think the more I think about it, there’s no history for me,” she said. “I grew up … my parents are from South America. I don’t know their history. I don’t know my grandmother’s history. Every place else, we moved every three years. The longest we spent in one place was six years before I moved here.”
The building portraits have become her way of connecting with place and permanence.
“I love the idea that there’s history here. I love that some of these buildings are old, and there’s something behind them,” she said.
A creative legacy
Perhaps the most rewarding aspect of Caruso’s artistic journey has been watching it ripple through generations. Her eldest daughter became a graphic designer and brings her own children to art shows. Her youngest daughter creates elaborate decorated cake pops. The grandchildren, surrounded by art supplies and creativity, are already making their own clothes and things for projects.
“It just brought it home. What we do as parents, as grandparents, what we open up our kids to and our grandkids to, can definitely change the trajectory of their lives,” she said.
Warren, who first brought the family to Ely, established a significant influence on the local arts community through his own teaching. Now, artists who once knew Caruso as “Warren’s sister” introduce Warren as “Dafne’s brother,” a shift that speaks to her own growing impact on the community.
The art of becoming
Caruso represents something powerful: Proof that creative callings don’t expire, that artistic communities can flourish in unexpected places, and that sometimes the most authentic teachers are those who remember what it felt like to believe they couldn’t.
Her art — whether it’s a purple moose, a series of Ely storefronts, or African animals rendered in impossible colors — carries forward the vibrant spirit of her Colombian heritage while creating something entirely new and distinctly her own.
“Anyone can do it,” she said. In The Art Corner in Ely, surrounded by the tools and encouragement she provides, that statement feels less like optimism and more like fact.