UN-BE-LIEV-A-BLE.

13+ lessons from an art show.

Sep 14, 2024

*if you are reading this from your email inbox, make sure you head over to the substack page to read it in its entirety. apparently i had to much to say and too many illustrations to share for the bandwidth!

hey-yo!
after being active on substack for the past few months, i’m still trying to figure out where this road is heading. i’m going to be dabbling with one of those “newsletter type things” that people attempt to send out monthly (but inevitably turns into once every 7-8 weeks) with links to writing and new illustrations from the month prior because keeping it fresh is best! (that sounds like a slogan for baby powder).
staying true to my duality and contradictive nature, you’re getting this update in your inbox today because even though it’s not a newsletter, it’s something that i want to celebrate with you.
it’s a win upon win upon win (times infinity).
if i’ve learned anything in my short 38 years on this spinning globe sphere,
it’s that the wins often feel far and few between.
when you get them: you shout them out. throw a party. have an espresso and tiramisu because nothing goes better with coffee than a dessert that has coffee in it.
welcome to my party!
*insert party emoji and celebratory hashtag here*

“you have to visit the ArtWalk!”
was a pretty common phrase that was suggested to me when my family picked up and moved to the Okanagan a few years ago (by the way, just run a Google search on the area if you’re unfamiliar. i will die on the sword of defending it being one of the best beautiful places in north america.)

the ArtWalk is literally just that: a stroll to look at art.
more specifically, it’s a two day multi-arts festival that features over 200 artists and draws in thousands of people from neighboring cities to view- people will take 2 hour long road trips just to come check it out.
the walk starts (or ends) at a coffee shop and local art gallery, goes down the block to a high school with both gyms and hallways packed with artists, to an outdoor courtyard with artists and events, to a middle school with a similar setup.

for perspective- i was being told to go visit the ArtWalk before anyone (including myself) knew me as an artist.
year one: i checked it out. pretty neat.
year two: i had my work featured at the coffee shop on the walk.
year three: i summoned the courage to pay for a booth, share my illustrations, invest money into business cards, etc- and had a really great time.
year four: i just wrapped up my second year featured at the show.
i went bigger. built a custom wood display. invested in getting more of my work printed. went with better quality presentation and branding.
i’m making it sound a lot easier than it was.

my son brought my display vision to life with 3D rendering. Kid's 12 by the way 🤘😶

i don’t say this lightly:
being at the ArtWalk last week was one of the most formative and impactful experiences of my life. and i have an abundance to say and share.
stories to shock, amaze, and delight (that’s what we’re all about over here).
some might even say that this is unbelievable. but you best believe it!

1. Embracing the Craft.
(that title kind of sounds like a horror film).
the ArtWalk is geared towards visual artists: painters, potters, photographers, makers of jewelry, and ladies who craft stained glass butterflies. when i submitted my application last year as a digital illustrator, i was met with immediate pushback. they wanted artists who would create one-of-a-kind original pieces, whereas i would be selling prints of my digital work. i didn’t really see a way around it, as it’s tricky to display the digital for people to view and purchase on an easel.
i’m sure there’s some crypto way of doing it.
my rebuttal: “help me to understand the difference between a photographer sharing copies of their work and what i do. i draw on my iPad with a stylus in the same manner as a person would with ink and paper. help me to see the differences here.”
*crickets*
my application was approved.
in the first year at the show, i was hidden away in the smaller gym, with viewers shocked and delighted to see my work featured.
”this is unlike anything we’ve ever seen at the show before! it stands out! it’s different!”
i mostly interpreted “different” to have positive connotations.
location is everything. when i received my pdf map of placement for this year’s show, i was in the big gym! i must have done something right last year! and i was also on the left hand side of the entrance- everyone had to walk past my art at some point!
a few caveats: i learned quickly through observation that the human inclination is to begin a path by walking to the right, and not the left. and after viewing 100 other artists’ work, by the time they got to me, many would breeze by because they were tired and the food trucks were calling their name!
i also was treated like a greeter or host, consistently being asked where other specific artists were located and where the washrooms were.
but, every so often, someone was focused on exiting, and they caught a glimpse of my art from the corner of their eye and they would snap back and turn around to see what i was all about. that was worth every single time i had to show someone where the potty was.

on saturday afternoon, i had a woman approach me (maybe early 30s? i suck at figuring out ages. i’m beginning to feel like 18 year olds look like they’re 35 and vice versa).
she was in tears! she literally walked over to my art setup, crying.
she thanked me for being there.
she shared that seeing digital work printed and on display in this setting helped her feel represented and gave her hope that others would see that there is so much value in seeing creative mediums on the same level.
leading up to the show, i told myself that if i could make a single positive impact on someone’s life over the 2 days, that it was worth it.
i could have packed up and went home at that point.
mission accomplished- on a completely different level than i expected.

an elderly woman introduced herself on the sunday and mentioned that she bought an iPad a year ago for the sole purpose of creating artwork, and placed it in a drawer because it overwhelmed her to even try. i told her that if i could do it that i had full confidence that she could too- and gave her a few resources to check out like Skillshare to build that confidence. she felt inspired to dig out the iPad that night and give it another go.

and then came the naysayers. three of them over the course of the weekend.
the first two were pretty chill. they voiced that they felt my work didn’t fit the atmosphere and spirit of the show, nor its history.
the third one lost his mind and was very aggressive.
he claimed that my work was essentially AI and was putting real artists out of business.
that it was corrupt and embarrassing for me to be represented at all.
(every generation seems to have a corrupt variant of the antichrist that gets pointed to as the demise of the world. i’m beginning to wonder if AI is that demon for people).
that i was a disgrace to the art community. i think he went on, but i tuned him out and smiled, nodded, and told him that i was sorry he felt that way.
sometimes, people just want to fight. they build up angst, need to get in an argument, and it pisses them off even more when the other doesn’t engage. he stormed off and carried his black cloud with him.
normally, these interactions would derail me.
they say that for every one negative thought or statement, you need ten positive ones to balance them out.
fortunately, i had over thirty spoken to me and banked at that point.
and let’s not hate on the naysayers. if they disagree, that’s okay. i hold space for disagreements. it’s natural. maybe we could go about the conversation differently.
but as kelly clarkson (and friedrich nietzsche) tell us:
what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.
(and now you have that song in your head. you’re welcome.)

2. Strike a Pose.
can we just talk about vulnerability for a second?
i set up shop in a digital world. and create art that is transferred from my iPad to your screen.
printing it off and standing in front of it for 16 hours while people judge you and what you do is terrifying.
the rules of “don’t judge a book by a cover” do not apply here.
your art is the book. and the cover. and you are standing in front of it awkwardly, doing your best to be proud of what you’ve created, all the while thinking:
where do my hands go? should i put them in my pockets? that’s too casual.
should i clasp them behind my back? that feels too formal.
should i stand in front of the display and welcome people in? i hate when other people do that to me.
should i be walking around? maybe give the element of surprise and approach people once they enter and now they’re trapped in the space and have to view it.
and, oh my god- what do i do with my hands?! pockets, no pockets, behind my back!?

i read this incredible article recently by

Tim Denning

.
(he’s one of the few writers whose work that i save and reread again and again because he has a unique way of viewing the world around us.)
he shares the importance of taking photos. how life is fleeting more quickly than we realize. and we should document the journey.
it’s funny- a camera has never been so easily accessible to human beings, and yet many of us forget to use it for its intended purpose.
i loathe having my picture taken. maybe you can relate. i hope you don’t.
i swear to god, the me that i see in the mirror before i leave the house is an entirely different person than the one i see in photographs. did i grow a hunchback and have an eye pop out of my socket between the space of traveling from the bathroom mirror and the front door? the camera seems to think so.
and the person taking the photo never captures the right angle. i need photographer friends.
after i launched “steve can draw” i successfully didn’t post a single photo of myself online for the first year. i used to say it was because “i wanted people to focus more on the art than the artist!”
that was sort of true. but, mostly bullshit.
i didn’t want you to see what i see in the photographs.
i took

Tim Denning

’s advice and went a step further:
a woman was taking a photo of my art and asked if i would be in it as well.
my inclination was to flee.
but, i remained. asked her to take two, just in case one turned out better than the other- and to email me the photos.
as much as i hate my photo taken, i never want to forget september 7-8, 2024. i won’t frame it. but, i’m keeping it as visual proof of the sacred words i’ve been reciting for the past two years: “you can do hard things”.

“During the lockdowns caused by the global health crisis, I decided to make a change. I took multiple photos (even ones with masks) to remind myself of one of the most difficult times in human history. Now I have photos to show my future post-apocalypse children.”
-Tim Denning

3. The Locals Walk Among Us.
no matter where you live, there are people in your community that absolutely eat up local, handmade things that are in the shape of your state or province.
you might even be one of them.
here’s where i get a little bit… shady(?) as an artist.
i’ve played to the masses before. last year, i created this 2x3’ illustration of british columbia in a very appealing style. it was a bit of a ploy to get draw in people to my booth. full transparency.
in the past year, however, i have come to embrace this theme in a new way:
i love where i live. there’s no secret there.
i love having mountains behind my house and the lake view from my living room.
i love the seasons and how i can have days where the dry heat of summer is hotter than nashville, and the winters have the perfect amount of snow enveloping the region. this year, i learned to embrace representing where i live through my own lens.
last october, while particpating in inktober, one of the prompts was “map”.
the result was my province illustrated in the style of super mario world.
in bringing this piece to the event, i thought it might sell a print or two. but it was the top seller.
the print sold out on day one, but still had people returning on day two to purchase… and turned away some sad faces (but, gave the link to my website).
one guy came back three times because he was pleading with his girlfriend to let him purchase it even though she felt like he had too many “nerd culture” items at home. (funny story, his mom came back and bought it on his behalf).
another local asked if i could do a custom 2’x3’ print of it to put in his kids’ gaming room because he enjoyed the combination of local and nostalgia.
sweet.
(i tried to take into consideration what i already sell online with my art prints and which illustrations are the most popular. in my shop, it’s my iPod illustration. out of the twelve designs, it’s literally the only one that i didn’t sell a single print of. if you’re looking to celebrate some iPod love in your life- hit me up, i have a few left).

and then came another photo op:
the social media manager of the event loved it so much, she asked to take my photo beside it to post on instagram next august for BC day. she didn’t catch my good angle either. but, i was still proud to be asked.
i’m not sure what the lesson here is…
if you aren’t proud of where you live, maybe ask yourself why that is.
and if you don’t feel like your location is accurately depicted… then do something about it. this is why 90% of the world thinks that i live in an igloo!
but, honestly- living in an igloo and pouring maple syrup on every meal would be the most baller thing.

4. Illustrator. Coward. Coffee Addict.
my tagline for steve can draw is “illustrator. WRITER. coffee addict.”
it’s on all of my branding.
(branding is a weird word. i forever associate it with a cow getting a heat pressed tattoo).
but, when it came to the writing confidence… not this time, my friends.
on the saturday, i debated bringing a few copies of the book that i had written to sell.
but, chickened out. threw the books back in the box and onto a shelf in the closet.
the end of day one gave me a big confidence boost.
truth be told, i’m incredibly proud of myself for having written a book.
it’s empowering to have a checkmark on a portion of your bucket list.
as i prepped for sunday morning, i stuffed eight copies in my bag.
and then i took them out.
and then put them back in again.
i got to the show an hour early to set up.
i took out a sharpie and wrote on a sheet of cardstock: “thin spaces $15” in the worst chicken scratch writing of my life! my hands were violently shaking with anxiety. i rewrote the sign. even shakier this time. the first one would have to do.
i put a few copies out on a table in front of my signage- hidden where i wouldn’t have to see it. i wouldn’t have to see the rejection as people walked by and didn’t look down.
but, i had to sneak a peek. the feedback i received was: “this is unlike any book i have ever seen! i feel so drawn to reading it! do you take cash or card?”
before the doors opened, a fellow artist approached me with my book in hand and asked, “what is this?”
you know that feeling where an invisible foot wearing doc martens kicks you square in the stomach (abs if you got ‘em). yeah. that was the feeling.
she flipped through it, didn’t even ask what it was about and purchased it.
at lunchtime, she swung by to let me know that she had already read 1/3 of it and was purchasing a copy for each of her kids from amazon because they lived out of province.
guys… i sold out of all eight copies in 45 mins.
it was a true WTF moment if i’ve ever had one.
and why? why the shaky hands and unnecessary anxiety?
i rocked it! i wish that i brought triple the amount.
and know what? next year, i’m going to. i’m going to believe in myself even that much harder.
and know what? you should too.

5. Making Friends is Easy. (haha, nope).
remember that time i wrote about this?
one of the goals that i gave myself at the show was to be 10% more outgoing than i normally am. basic math: 10% + my typical baseline = …basically just 10% period haha.
on the second day of the show, i had someone remember my work from the prior ArtWalk come by to say “hi”. he purchased some prints at previous show, and informed of where he hung them in his home. after a good conversation, he moved on to see the rest of the show. but, i noticed that he was looking at one of my smaller prints- “the anatomy of beard”- and no joke- he looked nearly identical to the character i had illustrated. on the way out, i handed him the print as he exited. i told him that it was a gift that belonged with him because it basically was him. he was blown away, gave me a fist bump, grabbed my business card to connect, and said, “we should hang out sometime- let’s make it happen!”
my takeaway here isn’t that you should give people things for free so that they want to hang out with you.
the takeaway is: notice people. make it special. everyone could use some more kindness in their lives.

6. Steve Brightened My Day!
while i was standing at the ArtWalk, i got an email from a customer (named Steve as well) who was so excited to show me where he hung my art in his kitchen!

and while i was editing this post, i was sent this email:

7. How Much Money Did I Make?
well, well, wouldn’t we all like to know. *sending out some Mr. Burns from The Simpsons vibes*
that’s tacky. i’m not telling.
my kids messaged me all day wanting an update as to which prints i sold and how many left the building. i could barely keep track. my mind was only focused on the quantity that i had left so i could get ready to sell the display if i had to. they know the amount. i think it’s very important to include children in financial conversations as much as possible (it makes for less of a rude awakening for when they graduate).
i’ll say this much: i sold enough to cover the costs that i invested in it (the materials to build the display, the prints, the cover fee to be there, the professional packaging, branding materials, etc- which was my goal: to breakeven).
at the end of the day, i sold triple the amount i did last year.
it’s not about the money. but, seeing the email with the total from Square Space at the end of the day as it was deposited into my bank account…
i was speechless. and still am.
(the following quote is not an accurate depiction of these statements. but it’s still funny.

Presents are the best way to show someone how much you care. It's like this tangible thing that you can point to and say, "Hey, man, I love you this many dollars worth." -Michael Scott

8. Therapists Are Awesome.
a child trauma therapist embraced my self-care print.
she wanted to place it on the office wall behind her so that children could see a positive reminder during their sessions.
another woman brought the same print 10 minutes later for her daughter.
her daughter had just started a small flower business as a way of working through the PTSD of her dad abandoning her recently and was learning to embrace personal growth. “self-care” literally was the mantra she was repeating. and there was the tie-in with the plants on the illustration.

9. Is Manifesting a Thing?
i had empathy for a neighboring artist. she was so defeated at the end of day one. it was her first time showing her paintings and didn’t sell a single one.
discouragement radiated from her. defeated.
on sunday morning, i told her that i was going to send good vibes and energy her way and told her to manifest what success would look like for her. how great it would feel to sell something and have her art in someone’s home.
i also gave her the insider secret: day one is for browsing. day two is for buying. that’s when the serious people show up.
she sold three paintings that day and was glowing brighter than the vibrant acrylics she used!

10. Class is in Session.

11. There’s Always Time for Coffee.
around noon on sunday, there was a man hanging around the display with his daughter (maybe 10-12 years old?). he stared at my fox art print (also known as “pumpkin spice spice baby”-the same one that Steve had sent the photo of) for a few minutes and his daughter told him that he should buy it.
as we were exchanging the monies, i asked if he had a special spot in mind to hang it.
he said, ”it’s interesting that you should ask that. someday it’s going to hang up in a coffee shop that i want to open. it’s my dream. there have been too many bumps in the road with my partners and trying to open one. but, i do have the perfect building selected, and need to come up with a new plan for how to make the dream happen. someday, i’m going to hang this print in my coffee shop. until then, i’m going to keep it in my office and look at it as motivation to make it happen”.

guys… i seriously can’t make this stuff up.

12. It Wasn’t All Rainbows.
as i sit here and recall each of these events, i am in complete awe and disbelief that all of this transpired. (it’s unbelievable to even me!)
but, this weekend almost didn’t happen.
for the better part of the past month, i debated pulling out and cancelling.
my anxiety had me willing to give up the non-refundable $100 fee.
there would have sat an empty 10’x10’ space with a paper that said “steve veasey” taped to a chair. i would carry that humiliation.
that’s how thick the anxiety was.
why be anxious? everything was set up for success.
i couldn’t sleep for the week leading up to the show. i gained 5 pounds from stress-eating. i spent all of this money on prints and built a custom display- but, what if it was all a waste? what if no one showed up? what if i was a joke? what if that one hater was right and i wasn’t a real artist?
truth be told, i don’t get out of the house much since going on long-term disability and becoming a stay-at-home dad.
my face to face social interactions have plummeted: previously interacting daily with the majority of my 250 employees. life is quieter now.
and somehow i felt ballsy enough to have thousands of people walk past me and attempt to interact with as many of them as possible…

on the friday night, after my family helped me set up and went home to have pizza, my anxiety was at its peak. sweaty palms and labored breathing.
my wife helped me laugh it away and be goofy that evening and it helped me to sleep through the night.
on saturday morning, she could see my anxiety bubbling up again and encouraged me to go for a walk, get some fresh air and come back after having some deep breaths.
the crazy thing is that the people closest to me believed in me more than i did.
and yet, i was the one crazy enough to sign up for this whole thing.
i think this was a reminder that i was exactly where i needed to be in the exact moment that i needed to be there. and maybe it wasn’t for me or about me.
maybe it was for them.
who knows?

13. The Marathon was Over… Now it’s Time for a Sprint.
two days after the ArtWalk, i recovered from the big art hangover that was the weekend and then received yet another email: a request from someone i may at the event to do a custom illustration of his son and his sports journey.
my thoughts: very cool! it would be fun to draw someone’s kid for them! that would be swell! (can we please normalize the use of the word ‘swell’ again? thank you).
i opened the dropbox of attached photos… his son is a canadian olympic athlete. the dude literally just got back from paris. seriously?!
i can’t decide if i feel more pressure or relieved that he’s an olympic athlete?
either way, as long as i draw him in the right country’s jersey, i should be fine, right?

time to wrap up this experience with a pretty bow on top, with some powerful feedback from the weekend:
”your art makes me so happy. i smile on the inside and the outside when i see it. you find a way to take the heavy things of life and add an element of whimsy. thank you for bringing joy into the world with your art.”

this is a space in this article where i could leave a very poignant mic drop about the whole experience.
but, as you’ve gathered by now, the entire experience felt like an open mic event where each presenter dropped the mic as they exited the stage.
i don’t need another mic drop. they did it all for me.

and as you read this, i want to thank you for showing up to my celebration!
hope you enjoyed your tiramisu and espresso!
let’s do this again. we’ll hang out at your place next time- because i want to know what you’re celebrating in life too. (even if it’s warm tea that you’re serving- i won’t complain.)