The Queen of Reinvention

The Queen of Reinvention

Meshing Creativity, Art, and Technology,
Lynda Weinman Explores Her
Newest Frontiers as an Artist

By Roger Durling | Photos by Ingrid Bostrom
May 22, 2025

Lynda Weinman is an artist. That statement shouldn’t come as a surprise to anyone who knows this powerhouse early pioneer in computer and web graphics, or to the millions of people who have benefitted from her launching — with her husband, Bruce Heavin — the leading online learning platform originally known as Lynda.com. The latter — which was acquired by LinkedIn in April 2015— provides guidance to subscribers on how to develop critical skills to advance careers. Creativity and Lynda Weinman are one and the same, and her life has been forged by a stimulating and inimitable constant state of reinvention and curiosity.

In the latest chapter of her relentless evolution, Lynda is examining ceramics in a nontraditional format (3D clay printing), and today is one of its foremost innovators. Using 3D parametric design software, her work is characterized by shifts in color, shape, and style. It includes references to nature, to painterly and natural abstraction, and geometry. She also playfully mixes clay and plastics and other materials in some of her creations. Still, Lynda has been late to fully embrace her title of an artist. “Before I became an artist, I didn’t consider myself a creative artist,” she confides. “I have always been a creative person. I realized that the same process of being creative in art is the same process in being creative in business.”

There are three interests deeply ingrained into Lynda’s DNA that make her infallible: her deep commitment to the arts and to artists, her curiosity and experimentation with technology, and her unyielding devotion to teaching and mentorship. Indeed, Lynda has selflessly championed these three components for years — but the next chapter in her life is solely about her. And yet her move is, once again — and not surprisingly — enormously and uniquely inspiring. “I needed to find an art practice that fulfilled this need I had,” she tells me. “I feel activated when I’m learning something new. I enjoy learning, but I also like passing that knowledge to others.” 

Lynda has always pushed herself to learn new things, and a few years ago, she made a conscious effort to continue learning — to resume her personal development, adapt to change, and acquire new proficiencies.

“After we sold the company, I was producing movies, but it wasn’t satisfying to me,” she says. “Bruce was building our house, where he planned to have his art studio. I told him to build me a pottery studio as well. In high school, I was throwing pots, and I told myself that when I retire, I would do pottery.” 

In 2018, she enrolled in a pottery class at SBCC, but she didn’t feel challenged by it. “It wasn’t pushing my buttons,” she says.

Online, she stumbled onto a course on digital fabrication for ceramic molds at the Anderson Ranch in Colorado — which offers opportunities for established artists to further their work. “As part of the introduction to the class, you had to show your portfolio to the entire group of students,” Lynda acknowledges. “I had so much shame. I was an abject beginner in a class of committed artists.”

Because of her extensive computer graphics background and knowledge, Lynda felt confident about that aspect of the class, but it was the artistic facet of ceramics where she felt inadequate. “I was scared,” she divulges, but she persevered. “I gave myself permission to fail, to be vulnerable and insecure. Nobody gets to escape that.” 

The software that the class was using was a parametric modeling one that allows designers to create 3D models using parameters and constraints (a flexible way of making forms), and it happened to be the same software that was being used to build her state-of-the-art new home in Montecito at the time. Lynda was fueled by her
experience in Colorado. “I’ve always tried to follow what genuinely interests me,” she says, “especially things that challenge and stretch me. I like being in a state of seeking rather than settling. Satisfaction or comfort isn’t my goal; in fact, I tend to resist it. I’m energized by curiosity and by the process of pushing myself into new territory.”

Inspirational design is everywhere at the home of Lynda Weinman and Bruce Heavin. | Credit: Ingrid Bostrom

After her experience at Anderson Ranch, Lynda decided to pursue a master’s degree in pottery. But she questioned how to go about it. “Do I get a master’s degree, or do I make my own?” Lynda asks rhetorically. “Why don’t I study with all the people I want to study with? Why don’t I craft my own degree?”

“I never did anything conventional in my life,” Lynda proudly affirms. During COVID, she met Alexander (Sandy) Curth, who was in his late twenties at the time, a designer and computational researcher — and a forerunner in the field of 3D printing. They started to meet once a week, and a fruitful symbiotic educational experience began. He taught her how to do 3D modeling, and she reciprocated by sponsoring his PhD research in the Design and Computation Group at MIT. “Merging art and technology opened doors to possibilities I hadn’t imagined,” she says. “It wasn’t just about mastering new tools — it was about expanding my creative reach. Every new software, every technical skill, became a new way to express ideas and solve problems in fresh and unexpected ways.”

After her home was completed and she successfully launched her practice as ceramic artist, Lynda continued surrounding herself with other young artists she could learn from and whom she would also mentor. She and Bruce acquired an adjacent property to their home that they use as a guest house. Lynda carefully selects young up-and-coming talent to do a residency and work with her. She doesn’t accept applicants, she is careful to clarify. She not only provides housing, but the artists also have access to her studio and work at times side-by-side with her. 

One of these artists is Vietnamese American designer Jolie Ngo. “My relationship with Lynda is unlike any other relationship I have in my life,” Jolie voices. “I often say it lands somewhere between friend, mentor, sister, mother, and patron. She inspires me as well, not just in my creative practice, but both in my personal and professional life as well.”

The Los Angeles County Museum of Art recently acquired one of Jolie’s bright cyborgian pottery pieces that explore the tension between past and futuristic techniques. “It has been really inspiring seeing Lynda work in the studio,” Jolie tells me. “She is so prolific and moves fearlessly in her practice. I’ve seen such tremendous growth in her own work since meeting her almost three years ago. I love the sort of ‘parallel play’ that happens in the studio, not just with her, but also with the other artists she has surrounded herself with. She has exceptional taste in people, and it’s so cool to see the influence we all have on each other’s practice.” 

Five years ago, with artist Patrick Hall, Lynda founded Maker House (originally known as Clay Studio S.B.), a nonprofit ceramic studio on 10 acres in the Goleta hills. The organization, which provides services for more than 500 students in wheel throwing, hand-building, and other clay arts, is noted regionally and nationally for its exhibitions, lectures, and visiting artist residencies.

As an artist, Lynda Weinman has had two, two-person shows; one small solo presentation, and four thematic exhibitions at Sullivan Goss. One of those shows was appropriately called Left Brain/Right Brain: The Marriage of Art & Technology. Jeremy Tessmer, Sullivan Goss’s gallery director, who curated the show, says about Lynda: “She is at the forefront of a technological revolution in art but works in a material that is ancient and which feels entirely resistant to the encroachment of digital design and fabrication. Computers and clay don’t seem to go together. In our conversations, she is modest about her place in the field, but her willingness to confront the steep learning curves for 3D and parametric design software puts her in a very rarefied group at the moment.”

Lynda also created a line of jewelry and sexy yet practical purses made out of plastic that were featured this past Christmas at the Santa Barbara Museum of Art. “Lynda’s designs belong on an international stage,” says Amy Davidson, a former buyer for the museum store who is now its travel coordinator. “Artists use technology to push creative limits, while technologists use artistic thinking to solve problems in novel ways. This synergy leads to groundbreaking products, experiences, and ideas. Lynda is a creative visionary at heart, and she brings that to everything she does.”

I have known Lynda since 2009, and she has been a force in my life ever since. The way that Jolie describes her multifaceted and complex relationship with Lynda is like mine. She joined the Santa Barbara International Film Festival (SBIFF) board (where Roger Durling serves as executive director) and not only provided generous donations to the organization, but she also became the president of the board and steered the festival steadfastly through a turbulent period. The festival is in great financial and artistic shape because of her nurturing.

She has taken a personal investment in my development as an executive director, and it has signified a deep commitment to my growth and well-being, both personally and professionally. She has also imparted her wisdom and support generously to other local vital nonprofits such as UCSB Arts & Lectures and Lotusland, among others. 

As area artist Baret Boisson says about Lynda, “I’m in awe of the way that Lynda supports artists and organizations, because she does so without a need for recognition; I think that these are artists, creatives, and people who don’t fit into traditional boxes are those whose language Lynda speaks.”

“Creativity applies to so many other facets in life,” Lynda avows. She was born in Hollywood, California, on January 24, 1955. Lynda says “she was raised by wolves,” and she grew up in the hippie era with her parents self-absorbed with their own lives. She read a book about alternative schools and attended Sherwood Oaks Experimental High School. The philosophy was that if you allow students their agency, they will find their internal motivation.

“I was a strong-willed person,” she explains. “I was very self-directed.”

Art by Lynda Weinman | Credit: Ingrid Bostrom

She went to Evergreen State College in Olympia, Washington, which she calls “a hippie college.” There she met Matt Groening, creator of The Simpsons, through their common love for music and both being drawn to Frank Zappa. They dated for seven years. To this day, he calls her “The Queen of Reinvention.” She also met cartoonist Lynda Barry during that time period. They all gravitated toward each other. She points out that all her friends were artists. Lynda majored in humanities and studied history and philosophy. She got an internship and ran the art gallery at the school, where she curated all the shows. It was like having her own business unit, she says. She graduated in 1976.

After graduation, she and Matt moved back to L.A. She wanted to be a gallery curator. She ran a store in Westwood called Tomnoddy Faire for a year. “I was in a big hurry,” she says. She talked her grandfather into loaning her money to open her own store, Vertigo on Sunset, which expanded to Vertigo on Melrose. It sold clothing, accessories, magazines, and gifts. The stores closed in 1982. “I was young and had no business running a store,” Lynda confesses. “I was so humiliated by this failure. It was my biggest accomplishment and my biggest failure.”

But this failure led her to her work in animation. Her boyfriend at the time, Chris Casady — a super pivotal person in her life — had a specialty in rotoscoping: an animation technique where animators trace over live-action footage frame by frame to create animated sequences. She helped him build his business, Rotoscope of America. She pivoted to special effects and became an animation director for Dream Quest. Casady brought back an Apple computer knockoff from Hong Kong, and she became obsessed with it. One day she had to get paper at the store, saw an Apple II+, and had to have it. She used her May Company credit card to purchase it.

Soon, she mastered using the computer to generate graphics. While she was at Dream Quest, she was asked to build a database for the billing department of a company that was doing graphics at ABC. She didn’t know how to build a database, but she figured it out. Playing with the computer was Lynda’s hobby, and now she was getting paid to do her hobby. Then she was asked to do the very first animatic (animated storyboard) for the film Star Trek V: The Final Frontier. She had never done this before, and this turned out to be her first introduction to 3D modeling. She bought software and taught herself how to do it. 

While Lynda was transferring digital images into 35mm slides at the Service Bureau, a teacher from the Art Center College of Design in Pasadena asked her to come speak at his class. This led to a whole career teaching digital arts from 1989 to 1996. This is also where she met Bruce Heavin. “Bruce has been both my collaborator and partner in pursuing my passions and goals,” she tells me. “We’re very different — he’s logical, methodical, and calculated, while I’m more intuitive and impulsive. But that contrast works. Together, we function like one well-rounded person. I balance him out as much as he does me.” They founded Lynda.com in 1995.

This inspiring lifelong learner tells me about her latest pursuit: mastering the game of bridge. “I’ve been at it for a few years,” she says. “It started as a desire to spend more quality time with my mother but soon became a personal passion. It’s the hardest thing I’ve ever learned, and I’m not sure I will ever feel finished, which is part of the beauty of it. There is something about the process of solving this riddle with cards that is like dental floss for my mind. It feels really good to think and learn.”