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The Oil City Art Syndicate: Are You a NW PA Creative Looking for Your People?

Hey, you. Yeah, you! The one with paint under your fingernails, a half-finished manuscript on your laptop, or a melody stuck in your head that you just have to get out. You know that feeling, right? That little hum that says, “I’m a creative, I’m a little weird, and where are all the other weirdos?”

We are starting something in our region as a project we can eventually share with others who may want to do the same thing in their own region. That is the big vision. But before we can hand out the map, we have to build the territory. Right now, we are wrangling all the brilliant, wild, and slightly unhinged creative energy bubbling up in our local area to see what happens when we stop working in isolation.

Welcome, friends, to the official (but still a work in progress) launch of the Oil City Art Syndicate!

Three people smiling at an art gallery, holding drinks, with colorful abstract paintings in the background.

What Even Is This Thing?

Think of the Syndicate as our attempt to wrangle all the brilliant, wild, and creative energy bubbling up in our region. We’re talking artists, writers, musicians, performers, designers, crafters… if you make things, if you love things, or if you just want to see more creative things, you’re in.

Our Big, Hairy, Audacious Goal

For too long, it feels like we’ve all been operating in our own little creative silos. You know, drawing amazing things alone in your studio, writing heart-wrenching poetry to an audience of dust bunnies, or composing a symphony that only your dog truly appreciates.

That’s where the Syndicate comes in. We’re attempting to connect the creators in our region so we can work together and build something that didn’t exist yesterday. Think of this as a pilot program. We are starting this in our region as a project we can eventually share with others who might want to do the same thing in their own towns. We’re building the blueprint as we go. This is by artists and for artists.

Three individuals posing together in front of colorful artwork in an art gallery.

What Can You Expect?

Right now, we’re building the foundation brick by beautiful, slightly askew brick. Here’s what we’ve got brewing:

  1. The Monthly Dispatch (aka, This Newsletter!): Your personal creative intel brief. We’ll be sending out monthly emails packed with local opportunities, grants, calls for shows, and updates on Syndicate business.
  2. The Discord Den (aka, Our Digital Hangout Spot): This is our virtual studio and brainstorming room. It’s where you can connect with other local artists in real-time.
  3. The Monthly Muster (aka, Real-Life Human Contact!): Yes, actual in-person meetings! We’re organizing a recurring space where we can sit down and discuss collaborative exhibitions and local events. Details on the first meeting are coming soon.

If you’re reading this, and you are located within driving distance of Oil City PA check it out.

A group of four people posing together in an art gallery, smiling and standing in front of paintings. They are wearing casual clothing and appear to be enjoying the event.

Is This Going to Work?

Honestly? Who knows! This whole thing could grow into an unstoppable creative force, or it could crash and burn in a spectacular blaze of glory. But here’s the unshakeable truth: When creative people gather, magic happens. It just does. We’ve seen it, we’ve felt it, and we are absolutely certain that this journey will be a magical one.

Let’s stop creating in isolation. Let’s find our people. Let’s make some serious magic.

Stay Rogue,

Rafi & Klee Founders, Oil City Art Syndicate

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Love, Jazz Hands, and the “Secret” to 16 Years of Magic

Valentine’s Day is coming up next month, and Klee and I are doing something we have never done before: we’re actually gearing up for it! Right now, both of us are hunkered down in the studio creating something truly special. The challenge we’ve set for ourselves is to create pieces that reflect our deepest values, art that is about loving someone else, practicing self-love, and honoring a love for the world around us. Although Valentine’s Day can often feel like a bit of a Hallmark holiday, I like to think of it more as an opportunity to reflect on love and gratitude. Honestly, with all the bullshit going on in the world right now, we could all use a moment to focus on the light.

A couple sharing a tender moment in front of art displayed on a wall, surrounded by vibrant paintings.

To be real with you, we usually drop the ball when it comes to February 14th. Every year, it sneaks up on us, and every year we say, “Oh yeah, that was today!” But I think I figured out why we always forget: when you’re living in a state of gratitude, every single day feels like Valentine’s Day.

I’ve been in plenty of relationships in my life, but I can honestly say that being with Klee is the first time I have ever experienced true love. We’ve been together for 16 years now, and somehow, it just keeps getting better and better. It’s a rare, beautiful thing to find a partner who makes you feel blessed just by waking up next to them, and I’m lucky enough to know that Klee feels the exact same way.

A colorful vehicle parked on the side of a road, decorated with various items and a website URL visible on the back.
This was our home for the first two years of our relationship as we traveled the country.

Because we’ve been feeling so much extra gratitude lately, we decided it was finally time to actually mark the calendar and celebrate that force with all of you!

You’re Invited To Our Open Studio Event!

LOVE AND JAZZ HANDS OPEN STUDIO JAN 30TH

On January 30th at 5:00 PM ET, we’re throwing a virtual party! We’re calling it Love and Jazz Hands, and it’s going to be a soulful, fun, and slightly chaotic celebration of the heart. We’ll be:

  • Showcasing New Art: We’ll be debuting those special Valentine’s-inspired jewelry and art pieces we’ve been working on in the studio.
  • Telling Our Story: Want to know the “how we met” saga? We’re finally spilling the beans on our 16-year journey together.
  • Playing Music: What’s a celebration without some tunes? We’ll be playing live to keep the vibes high.
  • Announcing the Winner! This is the big moment. We’ll be choosing the winner of our Koru Spiral Necklace giveaway! This solid, hammer-forged sterling silver piece represents growth and infinite expansion. The perfect symbol for a love that never stops evolving.

Haven’t entered the giveaway yet? Click on the link below If you want to celebrate the power of love, hear some music, and maybe snag a unique piece of art for yourself or a sweetheart, come hang out with us. Let’s make some jazz hands and celebrate the fact that love… real, messy, beautiful love, is the greatest force there is.

WIN JEWELRY BY KLEE ANGELIE!

See you on the 30th!

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Victory for the Artists! (But the War Isn’t Over)

I’m doing a literal happy dance in the studio today. If you’ve been following my recent (yesterday) saga with the “Tax Man,” I have some fantastic news: I got my tax exemption back with Blick Art Materials!

As it turns out, my gut instinct was right. A “pencil pusher” at the PA Department of Revenue interpreted the laws incorrectly during an audit. They tried to tell Blick that artists aren’t eligible for the resale exemption.

Spoiler alert: That was what we call an “erroneous opinion,” which is the fancy, polite way of saying they were flat-out wrong. Blick Art Materials were also not taking this lying down, and thus there was a battle on two fronts to support the PA artists!

A cartoon character with a bandana and cape, confidently holding a candle while facing a dark, shadowy creature.
My friend Cassie did this illustration of me, I like to get inspired by it when I go to battle.

You might be thinking, “Wait, you just told us about this yesterday! How did you win so quickly?” Well, let me pull back the curtain: I’ve actually been fighting this battle since the end of November. Anyone who knows me knows that when I set my mind on something, I’m like a dog with a bone. I’m incredibly persistent. My strategy is simple: Do at least one thing every single day.

  • Send an email. (A lot of unanswered emails.)
  • Make a phone call. (A lot of long wait times that ended in nothing.)
  • I may or may not have even “ambushed” our local Representative at a New Year’s Eve party. (Hey, if you’re in the neighborhood, you’re fair game!)

So no, this didn’t happen overnight. It was a slow, steady grind of refusing to take “no” for an answer.

A person with short hair is focused on a workbench, using tools and materials for a creative project, surrounded by various art supplies and equipment.
Would you look at that, looks like Klee is “Manufacturing” jewelry.

Upon further review, it was confirmed that artists and creative businesses absolutely can claim the Manufacturing Exemption. Because, hello? We take raw materials and physically transform them into something entirely new. That is the literal definition of manufacturing!

The problem? Our state tax laws are covered in about fifty years of dust. The current “lingo” was written for massive factories with smokestacks, not for the modern wave of small businesses, creatives, and gig workers.

An artist painting a black crow on a colorful canvas while holding a palette with various paint colors in a studio.
Can it be? Am I “actually” creating something new from the materials I buy?

Why I’m Still Fighting

While I won this specific battle, I’m not hanging up my boxing gloves just yet. It shouldn’t take a “war room” corkboard and three months of hounding officials for a creative business to avoid being double-taxed.

I’m going to continue pushing our Representative so that the laws actually reflect the modern market. We need clear guidelines so the next time a pencil pusher feels like making a flippant decision, the law is there to stop them.

Before I go back to making art, I have to say: Thank you to everyone that sent us a comment of support! Seriously, you guys are incredible.

I’ll keep you guys updated. The battle for the “little guy” continues!

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The “Art Isn’t Real” Tax Fiasco: A Love Letter to the PA Dept. of Revenue

I recently received a piece of mail that made me laugh, then get angry, then consider moving my entire studio to a different planet. It was a letter from Blick Art Materials informing me that the Pennsylvania Department of Revenue has decided that the production of artwork (you know, the thing we do with our lives) does not qualify as “exempt manufacturing” under some dusty statute called 72 P.S. 7201 (c).

UPDATE: WE WON! Read About It Here: https://rafiandklee.com/victory-for-the-artists-but-the-war-isnt-over/

Basically, some pencil-pusher in a cubicle somewhere has decided that when we take raw materials and transform them into something entirely new, we aren’t actually making anything. We’re apparently just… having an expensive hobby? This may have just happened to us, but at this point I’m assuming we are not the only ones dealing with this.

An artist working in a colorful studio filled with art supplies and tools.

How Does The Sales Tax Exemption Work (The Boring-but-Vital Part)

In case you’re unaware of how the grown-up business world is supposed to work: when you are a registered business that manufactures goods, you get a tax break. It’s called a Sales Tax Exemption.

Here’s the deal: If I buy a hunk of clay, paint, canvas, or a gallon of resin to make a sculpture that I then sell, I’m not supposed to pay sales tax on those materials. Why? Because the state gets its cut when the final customer buys the finished piece. If I pay tax on the materials, and the customer pays tax on the statue, the state is double-dipping.

To get this, you usually fill out a form (the REV-1220) and give it to your suppliers (like Blick). It’s a standard system designed to help small businesses actually, you know, stay in business.

An artist sitting at a cluttered studio workspace filled with art supplies, painted canvases, and boxes labeled 'BEADS' and other crafting materials.

Apparently, Art Supplies Are Not “Raw Material”

We’ve been in business for a while, and I’ve never run into this issue. According to Pennsylvania Department of Revenue, the state doesn’t think art is “manufacturing.” Apparently, they think we just wave a magic wand and the artwork appears. They don’t see the process of creation, or the physical labor of turning a blank canvas into a product. To them, we aren’t “producing goods.”

The core of the problem is that this statute is fundamentally outdated. The lingo used in the current law is written to benefit specific large-scale industries while leaving the door open for interpretations that exclude small businesses and independent makers.

This decision is, to use a technical term, dumb. It directly impacts how I order my materials and how much it costs to keep the lights on in my studio.

A woman stands in an art gallery, looking thoughtfully at the artwork displayed on the walls. She wears a red shirt and beige pants, with a backpack slung over her shoulder.

Standing Up to the Pencil-Pushers

I’m not taking this lying down. I am currently in the process of fighting this at the state level. As artists who run small businesses, we’re often treated like we’re playing pretend. We have to fight twice as hard just to get established systems to recognize our rights as legitimate businesses.

I’m now in communication with my local state representative to make them aware that the Department of Revenue is effectively penalizing the creative economy of Pennsylvania.

Here is my “Rogue Challenge” for you: Whether you use this tax exemption or not, this is about the principle. If the state decides our work isn’t “manufacturing,” they are deciding our work doesn’t have value.

  1. Check your orders. If you’re a registered business, see if you’re being charged tax on your raw supplies.
  2. Contact your State Rep. Seriously. Send a polite but firm email. Tell them that art is manufacturing, that we are businesses, and that this ruling is a blow to local makers.

We have a bit of a road ahead of us to get the “powers that be” to see us as the economic engine we actually are. Sometimes, the only way to get a seat at the table is to stand up and start making some noise.

Banner promoting a local project for artists in Northwest Pennsylvania, featuring playful graphics and the text "ARE YOU A NORTHWEST PA ARTIST? JOIN OUR NEW LOCAL PROJECT FOR ARTISTS IN OUR REGION."

If you live in PA, here is an example letter you can copy, paste and rewrite to suit you:

Subject: URGENT: PA Dept. of Revenue Ruling on Sales Tax Exemption for Artists (Statute 72 P.S. 7201 (c))

Dear Representative [Name],

I am writing to you as a constituent and a small business owner in our region to bring a concerning matter to your attention regarding a recent shift in the Pennsylvania Department of Revenue’s interpretation of tax law.

Recently, the Department has been contacting major art supply vendors (such as Blick Art Materials) to state that the production of artwork no longer qualifies as “exempt manufacturing” under Statute 72 P.S. 7201 (c).

The manufacturing exemption is a standard business practice designed to prevent “double-taxation” by allowing businesses to purchase raw materials—which are then transformed into a new, finished product—without paying sales tax at the point of purchase.

The core of the problem is that this statute is fundamentally outdated. The lingo used in the current law is written to benefit specific large-scale industries while leaving the door open for interpretations that exclude small businesses and independent makers. By ruling that artists are not “manufacturers,” the Department of Revenue is effectively:

  • Invalidating our status as legitimate businesses: It suggests that the physical transformation of raw materials into a finished good only “counts” if it happens in a traditional factory setting.
  • Creating a Double Standard: It allows large corporations to enjoy tax breaks on production while penalizing the small, local studios that make up the backbone of the creative economy in regions like ours in PA.
  • Increasing Overhead Costs: This interpretation forces double-taxation on our materials, making it even harder for local makers to remain competitive.

The process of creating a sculpture, a piece of jewelry, or a painting is a physical transformation of raw materials into a manufactured good. I ask for your support in advocating for a modernized interpretation of this statute—one that recognizes the reality of 21st-century small business and ensures that “manufacturing” isn’t a term reserved only for big industry.

We are taxpayers, business owners, and vital contributors to the economic and cultural vitality of this district. I look forward to hearing your thoughts on how we can resolve this issue.

Sincerely,

[Your Name] [Your Business Name] [Your Address] [Your Phone Number]

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The Guide to Realizing You’re Already Perfect

Early 2025 decided to take a giant swing at us when Klee got sick, and for a while there, I just couldn’t handle sharing my thoughts anymore. Luckily, she’s feeling much better, not quite at 100% yet, but enough for me to bore you all with what I think are life lessons. Honestly, taking that forced break was a blessing in disguise because it helped us get our priorities straight as artists and as humans. It made me realize that, without even noticing it, I’d fallen back into the trap of perfectionism.

I’m not talking about having high personal standards, I’m talking about that sneaky need to stay “impressive” for other people. Somewhere along the way, as our popularity grew, I became an uptight stick in the mud trying to keep up. I was jumping through invisible hoops, worried that if I wasn’t constantly “upping my game,” people would see what a miserable impostor I am. I think it happens to all of us at some point. You have more eyes on you and you think, “things were simpler when no one was paying attention”.

An artist painting on a canvas in a workshop, wearing a red bandana and glasses, with colorful bracelets on one wrist.

The funniest thing about trying to be perfect for the world is that people will still find something weird to say. We’ve had hecklers in every area of creation. They will say your art, jewelry, books, videos, or podcasts suck and no one likes you. No matter what you do, someone out there will hate it. At some point you realize how futile it is to try and control their perceptions. You have zero control over whether someone is “astonished” by your work or think it is a pile of garbage. The only thing you can actually control is whether or not you like what you’re creating.

If I’ve learned anything from this year, it’s that perfection is a total lie. You are inherently perfect just doing your personal best with whatever bandwidth you have today. Some days your best is a masterpiece, and other days your best is just putting on pants.

So, go out there and do your best today, no matter what that entails. It will be perfect.

Watch The Video We Made On This Subject

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What No One Tells You About Becoming an Artist

Welcome to the “I wish I knew” club. Population: Every artist ever.

When we first pick up a microphone, torch, stylus, or a brush, we all have this vision of ourselves: sitting in a sun-drenched loft, effortlessly sweeping a charcoal stick across a canvas while wearing an oversized sweater that stays inexplicably clean.

The reality? You’re hunched over a desk like a gargoyle, your neck is making sounds like a gravel driveway, and you’ve just spent three hours drawing a single left hand that still looks like a bunch of overcooked sausages.

Since I can’t go back in time to save past us, here is the survival guide for every baby artist just starting their journey.

A painting of a woman cradling a sleeping baby, set against a bright yellow background, displayed in an artist's workspace.

1. The “Ugly Phase” is Mandatory

Every piece of art goes through a middle stage where it looks like it was cursed by a swamp hag. In the beginning, we think this means we’re failing. It doesn’t. It’s just the awkward teenage years of your painting.

The Lesson: Just keep pushing until the swamp hag leaves.

2. Failure is a Myth (But Giving Up is a Nap)

Here is the big secret: There is no such thing as failure. There are only “learning sketches” and “incidents where the paint won.” The only way to actually fail is to stop entirely.

And even then? Giving up is usually just temporary. You might throw your sketchbook in a drawer and vow to become a goat farmer, but three weeks later, you’ll see a cool sunset or a well-drawn elbow, and bam you’re back at the desk. You can’t escape the “Art Itch.” It’s a lifelong condition. Accept the breaks, but know that creative inspiration always has your house keys.

An artist in a creative workspace, wearing a bandana and glasses, concentrating on notes while surrounded by art supplies and colorful walls.

3. You Will Become a Hand-Hiding Ninja

At some point, you will realize hands are the final boss of art. You will become an expert at drawing:

  • Characters with their hands in their pockets.
  • Characters standing behind large bushes.
  • Characters who mysteriously had their hands replaced by hooks.

The Pro Tip: Just bite the bullet and draw the hands. Draw them all the time. Trust me, you’ll get really good at it. Use your own hand as a reference. Yes, you will look weird taking 40 photos of your left hand in a “holding an energy ball” pose. Do it anyway. You’ll thank me later.

4. Reference is Not Cheating

There is this weird myth that “real” artists pull everything from their brains. Unless your brain is a high-definition 8K camera with 100% recall, use a reference. Using a photo of a toaster to draw a toaster isn’t cheating, it’s just making sure your toaster doesn’t look like a mailbox.

An artist carefully uses a torch to heat a metal ring on a workbench, surrounded by various tools and materials for crafting.

5. Your Workspace Needs Hazard Signs

You will eventually:

  • Dip your paintbrush into your coffee and drink it. Recently, a friend said it happened with their tea.
  • Wonder why your lower back feels like it’s on fire after being hunched over a painting all day.
  • Realize you have a streak of Cobalt Blue on your forehead that has been there since Tuesday.
  • Gas yourself with Flex Seal in an enclosed area until you lose your voice… oh, just me?

Just be careful. Yes, you cam probably withstand a lot when you are younger, but form better habits now, so you don’t regret it later. And, Buy a better chair. Your spine will thank you in ten years.

6. The Most Important Rule: Comparison is a Liar

You’re going to scroll through social media and see a 14-year-old who paints like Rembrandt. Your heart will sink. Stop that. That person’s Chapter 20 has nothing to do with your Chapter 1. The only person you need to be better than is the version of you that didn’t draw anything yesterday.

These are the six I’m sharing today, but there are many, many more. Have an awesome and creatively beautiful year!

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Our Ritual for Not Imploding in January

Every year on January 1st, Klee and I go through this weird, collective limbo. It’s like we wake up and suddenly forget how to be human. We just meander around the house, staring at walls, wondering if anything we’re doing actually matters or if we should be, I don’t know, learning to farm alpacas or something.

I think we get so geared up for “The New Year” and all those shiny opportunities that when we actually arrive, we just stand there like, “Now what?”

A woman with a playful smile wearing a turquoise shirt with a ruler graphic and the text 'YOU ROCK' stands next to a man with glasses and a red bandana, wearing a black t-shirt that reads 'ARTROVERTS.' They are in an artistic environment with colorful paintings in the background.

Luckily, the “what” usually involves a massive amount of brain-vomit.

To get our bearings back, we sit down and do a total brain dump. Every idea, every project we’re already doing, and every “maybe one day” dream gets written down until it’s tangible. Then, we spend about ten minutes feeling completely overwhelmed by how long the list is before we start the glorious process of cutting things out.

We only keep the stuff that actually makes us feel excited.

A lot of people set financial goals in the beginning of the year, we set FEELING goals. I think setting strictly financial goals for the year is kind of silly. Sure, you can say you want to make $X amount, but if you aren’t having fun and you’re bored out of your mind, it’s not sustainable. You’ll quit by March. We gravitate toward what gets us fired up. If the excitement is there, the work happens, and the money usually follows the work. At least, that’s what we believe.

A person kneeling on a carpet, organizing a variety of index cards spread out in rows on the floor, while surrounded by furniture.

Once the list is pruned, we tackle the physical disaster area. Everyone knows that when you’re in the middle of a project, the studio (and the house) looks like a creative tornado hit it. Cleaning up the clutter isn’t just about finding the floor again; it’s about making space for new opportunities. You can’t look forward if you’re tripping over a half-baked project from last July.

But the biggest thing we do is a “Superman Check.”

It’s easy to plan for the future and pretend you’re a superhero who doesn’t need sleep. But are you giving yourself breaks? Are you giving yourself time to actually enjoy the journey? Are you giving yourself time to just… think?

A cozy indoor setting featuring two individuals engaged in discussion. One person is seated on a stool, while the other sits on a chair, holding a book. The room is decorated with musical instruments, a calendar, and various notes on the walls, creating an artistic and creative atmosphere.

Here are a few other things we’ve added to the ritual to keep us from burning out:

  • The “Let It Die” List: This is the opposite of a to-do list. We identify the projects or habits that are draining us and officially give ourselves permission to kill them off. If it doesn’t serve the soul, it’s gotta go.
  • The Energy Audit: Instead of a schedule, we look at our energy. When are we most creative? When are we most “introvert-fried”? We try to build our days around how we actually function, not some corporate 9-to-5 dream.
  • Small Wins First: We pick one tiny, easy thing to finish in the first week. It breaks the “limbo” spell and reminds us that we actually know how to get stuff done.
A person playing a xylophone in a music studio filled with various instruments, including guitars and puppets in the background.

Our New Year ritual might sound a bit touchy-feely. It’s all about emotions and how we feel. But let’s be honest: your feelings are the driving force of your business. If you don’t care for them, you’re going to burn out, and a burned-out artist doesn’t make much art.

So, here’s to being awkward, clearing the clutter, and only doing the stuff that makes us feel alive.

Stay brave, stay weird, and let’s make some cool stuff this year.

Rafi

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Happy New Year, Amazing Humans!

As the calendar turns, we wanted to pause for a moment and simply say: Happy New Year. Not the rushed, confetti-filled kind of happy new year, but the deep breath kind. The kind where you look back, acknowledge what you overcame, and gently turn your face toward to what’s next.

If we’re being honest (and we usually are), 2025 was not an easy year.

One of the biggest challenges we faced was Klee getting sick. Watching someone you love struggle with their health changes everything. The pace of life shifts. Priorities rearrange themselves whether you’re ready or not. There were moments of worry, frustration, exhaustion, and uncertainty that tested us in ways we didn’t expect.

A woman sitting in a hospital bed, wearing a hospital gown, focused on her smartphone while surrounded by medical equipment.

The good news is that Klee is doing much better. Recovery is happening. Energy is returning. Laughter feels lighter again. That said, she’s not fully out of the woods yet, and we’re still taking things day by day. Healing isn’t a straight line. But we ended the year stronger than we started it, more grounded, and feeling hopeful in a way that feels real instead of forced.

Despite everything, we kept smiling.
We kept showing up for life.
We kept finding beauty in the middle of the mess.

That alone feels like a win.

A group of people gathered in a cozy indoor space, with two individuals smiling in the foreground. The atmosphere feels warm and inviting, likely during a meeting or workshop.

There’s something powerful about finishing a hard year with clarity instead of bitterness, gratitude instead of resentment, and hope instead of burnout. That’s where we landed, and we don’t take that lightly.

We know so many of you faced illness, loss, financial stress, burnout, heartbreak, creative blocks, and moments where it felt like you were barely holding things together. If 2025 knocked the wind out of you, please know this: you are not weak for being tired. You are human. We’re sending you all the love.

We are looking forward to 2026. Not because everything will magically be easy. Not because problems disappear overnight. But because something has shifted.

As we step into this new year, our intention is simple:
to keep creating, keep healing, keep showing up honestly, and keep making space for the things that matter most.

A man and a woman standing by a calm river, looking out at the water with green hills in the background and a partly cloudy sky.

Thank you for being here. Thank you for your support, your kindness, your messages, and your patience as we navigated a tough season. We’re so grateful to be walking into this next chapter with you.

Here’s to 2026 and to growth, healing, creativity, and a whole lot more light in the world.

With love,
Rafi & Klee

Watch Our Year End Video Where We Discuss Our Struggles And Wins Of 2025

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Merry Christmas, You Beautiful Humans

Merry Christmas from our little corner of creative chaos, paint splatters, work in progress ideas, warm mugs, and a whole lot of gratitude.

Christmas has a funny way of slowing things down, even when everything else in life feels loud. The world takes a breath. The inbox quiets. The noise fades just enough for us to hear ourselves think. And sometimes, that’s when the good stuff sneaks in.

I want to tell you a short story.

Last winter, this season didn’t feel magical. It felt heavy. Plans fell apart. Energy was low. Klee got sick, and we knew the year was going to be rough. The kind of year where you’re just trying to get through. The lights still went up, but they felt more like a reminder of what should be than what actually was.

Two people sitting on a couch in a cozy living room, wearing festive hats. The room features colorful artwork on the walls and a warm lamp, creating a welcoming atmosphere.

On Christmas morning, instead of rushing or pretending holiday joy, we do something simple. We sit. No big expectations. No grand gestures. Just quiet, coffee or tea, and the contemplation that even though the year had been hard, we were still here. Still creating. Still choosing each other. Still choosing hope. Still choosing joy, even if it is small and a little shaky.

Joy doesn’t always arrive wrapped and perfect. Sometimes it shows up as overcoming. Sometimes it looks like rest. Sometimes it’s just the decision to keep going when stopping would be easier.

This year feels a little different. Not perfect. Not easy. But rooted. There’s a deeper appreciation for the small things. A deeper respect for how resilient we as humans really are. For how many times we’ve been knocked sideways and still found a way to make something meaningful out of the mess.

If this year was joyful for you, soak it in. Let it fill your pockets for colder days.

If this year was hard, remember that making it to today is an accomplishment. You don’t need to sparkle on command. You don’t need to have it figured out. You are allowed to rest. You are allowed to begin again.

Two people playfully posing in cutouts shaped like Christmas trees, with a star on top, smiling against a festive street background.

Christmas doesn’t have to be about presents, it can be about presence. It’s about choosing love, creativity, kindness, and curiosity even when life doesn’t cooperate. It’s about lighting a small candle and trusting that it’s enough to push back the dark.

So wherever you are today, however you’re celebrating, or not celebrating at all, know this:

You matter.
Your creative heart matters.
Your story is just beginning.
And today is always your day.

From our hearts to yours, Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays.
Thank you for being here. Thank you for walking this strange, beautiful, creative path with us.

We’ll see you on the other side of the holidays.

Lurve, Rafi and Klee

A smiling couple wearing winter scarves and hats, standing in front of a decorated Christmas tree at night.
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A CREATIVE PSA: Don’t Be Dumb Like Me

I wanted to share a little warning with all of you today.
A friendly, heartfelt, “learn from my mistakes” kind of post.

Or, more accurately…

A don’t be dumb like me post.

A couple of days ago, Klee and I were deep in the mad holiday rush. Orders were flying out the door, the studio looked like a creative tornado had touched down, and we were prepping for our last winter show, the Holiday Makers Market at Clifford’s.

The show itself? Amazing.
The community showed up, we got to hang out with incredible local artists, and it reminded us (again) why we love doing what we do.

A smiling couple stands at their booth filled with handmade jewelry and colorful artwork at a craft fair.

The problem happened before the show.

The day before, while juggling a million things, my brain did that thing it does sometimes. You know the thing. I’m fully focused on one task, and then suddenly my brain goes:

“HEY. YOU SHOULD FIX THAT RANDOM THING RIGHT NOW.”

This time, it was a crack in our studio utility sink.

Perfect timing, right?

So naturally, instead of saying “maybe after the holidays” or “this can wait,” I decided this would be a great thing to squeeze into an already packed schedule.

Brilliant.

A cluttered artist studio sink area with various paintbrushes hanging on a rack, a utility sink showing signs of use, and a yellow painted base.

I caulked the cracks in the sink and then thought, “You know what would really seal this up? Flex Seal.”
I had a spray can left from when I worked on our gutters. Easy. Quick. Done in five minutes.

Except… not really.

It’s winter.
The studio has limited ventilation this time of year.
And even though I own masks and wear them regularly when I spray paint…

I decided (in the heat of the moment) that I didn’t need one.

“It’ll be quick,” I said to myself.
“It’s fine,” I said to myself.
“Future Rafi can deal with it,” I implied.

So I sprayed the sink.

Then another layer.

Then another.

Then… I emptied the entire can.

A close-up view of a utility sink with fresh white flex seal coating applied, showing uneven patches and a drain at the bottom.

If you’ve ever sprayed something inside a basin, you already know where this is going.
That spray doesn’t politely stay where you put it.
It bounces.
It comes back out.
And it hits you directly in the face.

Since I wasn’t wearing a mask, I basically inhaled those vapors like they were fresh mountain air.

Then (because apparently I hadn’t learned anything yet) I just went on with my day.

That night and into the next day, my lungs were not happy.
I was coughing up stuff, felt that deep chest irritation, and realized something was very wrong.

At the show, I couldn’t stay the whole time. I had to step out and go home a few times just to breathe and recover a bit. Klee just looked at me with a serious look and said, I’m worried about you. Never do that again. I nodded.

That evening, I did some steaming, focused on clearing my breathing, and thankfully things improved.

This morning, I woke up feeling better overall…
but with absolutely no voice.

None.
Gone.
Vanished.

Which brings me to the point of this whole post.

A cluttered studio space filled with art supplies, boxes, and unfinished artwork, showcasing a creative environment in disarray.

The PSA Part

Do not be dumb like me.

Seriously.

Here’s why this was a bad idea (in case my missing voice wasn’t convincing enough):

  • Cold weather + poor ventilation = bad combo
  • Spray sealants are not harmless
  • If you’re spraying inside a confined space, it will come back at you
  • “It’ll be quick” is a lie your brain tells you
  • Masks exist for a reason
  • Rushing + repairs = mistakes
A snowy backyard scene featuring a house, steps leading up to it, and a firepit, with snowfall creating a serene winter atmosphere.

What You Should Always Have on Hand

  • A proper mask or respirator for fumes
  • Ventilation (fans, open windows when possible)
  • Gloves and basic safety gear
  • The ability to say “this can wait”

So there it is.
My public service announcement for the day.

For anyone wondering, I’m feeling much better. Other than not being able to speak, I actually feel pretty good. Lungs are calming down, breathing is easier, and lesson very much learned.

If this post saves even one of you from doing something similar while rushing around your studio, garage, or workspace…

Then at least my poor decision wasn’t completely wasted.

Stay safe out there.
And wear the damn mask.