La petite mort (the little death), a 19th century French phrase, originally meant le frisson, or the shiver. From there it became known as a euphemism for the orgasm, described as a momentary loss of self or a weakening of consciousness. It is the moment one’s heart metaphorically stops. A gasp of air.

A little death.

Philosophers and art historians have adopted the phrase to describe the experience of art— la petite mort as the moment one loses oneself in a good book, staring into a painting at a museum, or stumbling upon an old photo in an antique store that you just can’t shake. To experience a little death is to feel time stop, to be consumed by, and lost in a work of art.

Little Death officially opened in 2025, though dreams of its existence began years earlier. After a trip to Santa Fe, New Mexico left founders, Katia Dermott and Micah Sanders, feeling inspired to bring together their visions for an alternative gallery space, the wheels began turning. They set out to create a space to showcase quiet, lesser-known artists— a space to both support artists in making sales and to support working people in being able to afford art. 

Little Death is a dream space, a stumble into the woods, a loss of self. Here you will find a place where strange fires burn and wild animals have secrets. Here, shadows roam freely, carnival cats lurk in the canopy, and past selves stare back at you from puddles and bubbling brooks. In the clearings are sweet respites of home and memories of things you can’t quite put your finger on. In these woods you will find our artists.