Rafi is an award winning contemporary artist who creates emotionally charged works. He is best known for his use of texture and bold color palates in striking pieces that each has a story to tell.
Rafi is a self taught artist who spent years refining his own techniques and creating a style that is all his own. He has a unique ability to absorb colors and emotions in a very abstract way and is somehow able to translate it into the high energy fine art for which he is known.
"He is driven to communicate visual qualities of perhaps the external environment which offers us freedom and inspiration as we cope with awesome focal points in the vast open space surrounding our existence. He attempts to show the internal passion of human sensuality that brings quality to our senses stimulating and extending our consciousness elevating life as individuals or sharing space with others around us. Ultimately Rafi seems to convey simple sophistication and intellectual freedom as he uses the visual language to express the human potential." - Spiros Zachos (PO10TIAL Magazine)
Right now, Klee and I should be in the studio. I should be wrestling with a canvas and she should be making something shiny and ancient-looking. Instead, we are currently buried under a mountain of receipts, spreadsheets, and what I like to call “other stuff.” You know the that vague, soul-sucking category of adult responsibilities and uninvited paperwork that seems to multiply in the dark like evil gremlins.
It is tax season, the time of year when the government asks, “So, exactly how many tubes of paint did you buy in July, and was that a ‘business expense’ or a cry for help?”
Just remember, even when you are stuck doing paperwork, you are still an artist. You don’t stop being a creator just because you’ve traded your paintbrush for a calculator. I’ve realized that it is entirely possible to have fun even when you are doing things that have absolutely nothing to do with your art. In fact, if you can make it fun, then it is not as much of a drag. Of course, the smart thing to do is just hire someone… but if you are anything like Klee and I, you will be tackling it yourselves because…
I don’t know why. Either way, here is what we do to make it fun.
1. Turn It Into A Game!
Listen, the first time we did our own taxes over 15 years ago, we cried. There was no fun and games. However, we have learned a lot over the years and are at a point where we can make the process fun. When Klee and I are tackling our taxes, we turn it into a weird sort of performance art. We make it a challenge. Who can find the best deduction? If you treat the mundane tasks like a scavenger hunt for your own life, the “boredom” starts to lose its power over you.
2. Put on the Financial Cape
As I’ve said before, you have to wear the financial hat to keep the art hat. But nobody said the financial hat has to be boring. I like to imagine I’m a high-stakes accountant for a rebel alliance. I’m not just “paying bills”, I’m funding a creative revolution. Keeping our overhead low and our budget strict is the only reason we get to keep doing the fun stuff. When you look at your taxes as the price of admission for your dream life, they get a little easier to stomach.
3. Staying True Through the Drama
Then there’s the “other stuff” that isn’t paperwork. The drama, the life surprises, the things that try to knock you off your North Star. It’s easy to get grumpy when you feel like your time is being stolen. But even in the middle of a “bad Tuesday,” you can choose your energy. I’ve found that if I approach the “other stuff” with the same curiosity I bring to a new painting, the drama doesn’t stick as much. I’m just an artist observing a very strange, very bureaucratic world. It’s all material to be shared one way or another.
4. The Celebration of the Small Wins
When we finally finish a batch of numbers, we take a break and celebrate. We high-five over the fact that we survived another round of being “responsible adults” before we dive into the next batch.
The secret to living the artist life isn’t about avoiding the mundane, it’s about refusing to let the mundane turn you into a drag of a person. You can bring beauty, love, and joy to just about anything. Okay, maybe not “everything” but you can definitely bring some self joy and a healthy dose of sarcasm.
If you’re stuck doing something today that feels like the opposite of creative, remember this: you are still the one holding the pen. Whether you’re signing a painting or a tax form, do it with your own flair. Don’t let the “shoulds” and the “must-dos” drain your battery.
Focus on who you are and keep your sense of humor intact. The studio will still be there when the paperwork is done, and you’ll be a lot more focused when you get there because you didn’t let the “other stuff” steal your spark.
Now, I’m going back to this spreadsheet. wish me luck!
I can’t even tell you how many times throughout my creative life I’ve heard this gem. We’ve all heard it. That one sentence that lands in your gut like a wet sandwich. It’s usually preceded by the deadliest three words in the English language: “No offense, but…”
During a recent meeting of the Organization that shall not be named, the person that is supposed to be in charge looked at the only two artists at the meeting and dropped this absolute gem:
“No offense, but as artists, you have more time than the other people here who have jobs.”
Cue the record scratch.
Now, I wasn’t at this specific meeting. To be honest, after the recent tsunami of high-school drama with these people, I needed some space for my own peace of mind. If I had been there, you can bet I would have had a few choice words about that statement. Luckily, we have several friends who go to these meetings who are creative advocates, and they told us the story.
Creating Art And Jewelry Doesn’t Just Magically Happen
Unfortunately, the comment wasn’t challenged by a single person there. Not one. Apparently, that kind of behavior is so normalized that no one really noticed it. It just hung there in the air like a bad smell that everyone decided to ignore. That being said, one of the artists at the meeting resigned the day after. That seems to be a common theme from the overwhelming amount of messages I have received from creative people in our area after reading about my own struggles. I think it is ignorant to tell ANY creative that their professional lives don’t actually exist.
Now, I know what you might be thinking, “Rafi, it’s not a big deal, is it?” to which I respond, “Oh yes it is, and here is why.”
Even When Klee Was Sick In The Hospital We Had A Business To Run
Making a statement like this is just as ignorant as an artist looking at a person with a “real” job and saying:
“No offense, but you have a 9-5, which means you have way more time than I do. You get weekends off, your workday ends early, and you get vacation and holidays off. Not to mention, you have a guaranteed paycheck, so you clearly have a lot more free time.”
See how ridiculous that sounds? It’s absurd to generalize what someone else has going on, especially when you are completely ignorant of what their day-to-day reality actually looks like. Whether you’re in a studio or an office, everyone is juggling a life, a career, and a set of responsibilities that a “no offense” comment can’t begin to cover. Honestly, I love my career and what I do and put out there. Just because I don’t hate my job, doesn’t make it any less of a time commitment.
We Have Several Meetings A Month (at least one a week) With Several Boards And Committees Where We Are Helping Revitalize Our Area
This problem isn’t just isolated to the one organization or a person. It is a problem you see just about everywhere you look. Apparently, there is a widespread belief that being a professional artist is basically just frolicking through meadows, waiting for a “muse” to whisper sweet nothings into your ear while you wait for your sourdough starter to peak. I don’t think many people can actually conceptualize what we really do.
We Teach Artist Workshops
We Organize And Teach A Monthly Create And Sip
We Teach Kids Art Every Week
We curate and organize a monthly art exhibition for local artists
Here is why that comment is the Olympic Gold Medalist of Ignorance:
1. The “Job” is the Business
Being a professional artist isn’t just “making stuff.” It’s being a CEO, a Marketing Director, a Logistics Manager, and a Tax Accountant all at once. If an artist isn’t at their “desk,” they are probably:
Negotiating contracts.
Wrangling shipping logistics.
Promoting their business.
responding to emails.
planning projects, shows, and exhibitions.
Managing a social media presence.
And figuring out how to balance a creative career with all their other responsibilities.
There is a lot that happens behind the scenes. Websites, accounting, inventory, logistics, and much much more.
2. We Don’t Have “Off” Hours
When you have a “job,” you typically get to clock out. You go home, you watch Netflix, and you stop thinking about the quarterly spreadsheets. An artist? We are always on. Our “free time” is spent figuring out how to pay our bills and responding to client DMs at 11:00 PM because that’s when opportunity strikes.
Apply For And Develop Relationships With Galleries And Local Arts Organizations
3. The Lack of a Safety Net
“People with jobs” often have things like… oh, I don’t know… guaranteed salaries. Artists are the ultimate grinders. We don’t have “more time” we have more stakes. If we aren’t working, we aren’t eating. Every hour is a billable hour. Our bills don’t magically get paid because we are artists, we have to make things happen to pay our bills.
The funniest part of this whole saga from the beginning? Creative organizations literally cannot function without creative people. When you insult the creative people who are there to help, you’re essentially trying to fly a plane while insulting the engines. Good luck with the landing!
Home Repairs, Bills, And All The Other Life Stuff We Are Responsible For
To my fellow “jobless” creators who may have run into the same comment:
Your time is sacred.
Your business is valid.
Your “free time” is actually “unpaid labor that makes the world beautiful.”
If someone tries to pull the “no offense” card on you, just remember: they are projecting their own lack of imagination. Keep building your own foundation, keep charging what you’re worth, and keep “frolicking” your way to success.
We Write, Edit, Format, Record, Publish, And Distribute Our Artist Books
We write, Record, Edit, And Distribute Our Own Music
To Everyone Who Reached Out About My Recent Experience
I want to thank you for reaching out with your experience in dealing with the same drama I dealt with recently. Whether it was online, or the many members of our community who showed their support. Thank you. I had recently pulled back from saying anything about the individuals in question on our public forum, because honestly, I was over it. And I still am. However, they don’t seem to be done with me. I think they are under the impression that no one tells us what is happening behind closed doors and what they are saying. It’s kind of stupid honestly. So, as far as I’m concerned, I’m done with it, and I am moving on. But if they come at me, I’ll be filling you in on the drama. The truth is, I just don’t care enough about them, but I won’t stay quiet when attacked. So, as long as they back off, we are good.
Listen up, creative weirdos. It’s that time of year again and we have some helpful tax tips to help you save some money. Every year, artists, writers, musicians, and independent creators unintentionally hand the IRS more money than they need to. Why? Because they overlook deductions they are completely entitled to claim.
When you’re running a creative business, your brain is usually focused on the canvas, the manuscript, or the melody…not the ever-shifting complexities of the tax code. But missing out on these deductions is literally leaving money on the table. Money that could be funding your next project, buying better gear, or just keeping the lights on.
This is your Rogue Guide to the key business deductions to look out for before you file. (And as always, work with a tax professional who actually understands the freelance landscape to make sure you get every penny you deserve.)
Here are the key deductions to keep your hard-earned money where it belongs.
We try and make tax time a game, so that we spend the day enjoying ourselves
Check these yearly because some rates change (such as mileage and food). This is not legal advice, it is just a helpful guide to writing off expenses for your creative business. Just about every expense you have to keep your business running is something you don’t have to pay taxes on. I know it’s a drag to keep track of, but it will save you a lot of money at the end of the year.
1. Materials & Supplies (Line 22)
Consumables: Paint, canvas, clay, ink, fabric, paper, and film. Materials you use to create your craft.
Tools: Brushes, palette knives, carving tools, and small hand tools. All your tools.
Safety Gear: Respirators, filters, gloves, aprons, and specialized footwear.
Finishing: Framing, glass, matting, and display hardware.
Shipping Materials: Crating, bubble wrap, tape, and boxes for artwork delivery.
2. Vehicle & Mileage (Line 9)
Business Mileage:72.5 cents per mile (2026 IRS Rate).
Includes: Trips to art supply stores, galleries, framing shops, art shows, and client meetings.
Incidental Auto: Parking fees and tolls for business-related travel.
3. Studio & Workspace (Line 20b or 30)
Choose either offsite, home office, or both if you rent a space and have a studio in your home.
Off-site Rent: Monthly rent for a commercial studio or storage unit.
Off-site Utilities: Electricity, water, and heat for a non-home studio.
Home Office Deduction:
Simplified: $5 per square foot (up to 300 sq. ft.).
Actual: Percentage of mortgage interest/rent, insurance, and utilities based on studio square footage.
4. Marketing & Advertising (Line 8)
Web Presence: Website hosting (your website), domain renewals, and SEO services. plugins for your website.
Digital Marketing: Social media ads (Instagram/Facebook) and email newsletter subscriptions.
Print: Business cards, portfolios, postcards, and printed catalogs.
Entry Fees: Application fees for juried shows, art fairs, and competitions.
5. Labor & Professional Services (Lines 10, 11, & 17)
Gallery Commissions: Fees kept by a gallery upon the sale of your work.
Contract Labor: Fees for studio assistants, models, or professional photographers.
Professional Fees: Payments to CPAs, tax preparers, bookkeepers, or legal counsel.
Filing Taxes Fee: What you paid last year to file your business taxes.
6. Office & Administrative (Line 18)
Software: Adobe Creative Cloud, QuickBooks, cloud storage, and office suites.
Office Supplies: Stationery, printer ink, stamps, and administrative folders.
Small Tech: Computers, tablets, or printers costing $2,500 or less (De Minimis Safe Harbor).
Shipping Costs: All business related shipping costs (including art).
7. Travel & Meals (Line 24a & 24b)
Travel: Airfare, lodging, and Uber/Lyft/Train for residencies, art fairs, or gallery openings.
Business Meals: 50% deductible for meetings with curators, collectors, or collaborators.
8. Professional Development (Line 27a)
Education: Workshops, masterclasses, and seminars.
Research: Museum memberships and gallery admission fees.
Subscriptions: Art magazines, trade journals, and professional organization dues.
Important Record-Keeping Note: The IRS requires documentation for all deductions. Always keep a digital or physical copy of your receipts and a detailed mileage log (including date, destination, and business purpose). We recommend you have one checking account dedicated to your business.
Non-Deductible Artist Expenses (The “No” List) You Cannot Write These Off.
1. Personal Clothing & Grooming
Everyday Clothes: You cannot deduct “work clothes” like jeans, shirts, or even a nice suit for an opening, as they are suitable for everyday wear.
Grooming: Haircuts, makeup, or manicures, even if you are attending your own gallery opening or doing a video interview, These are considered personal expenses.
Exception: Only specialized protective gear (welding masks) or theatrical costumes (performance clothing) not wearable on the street are deductible.
2. Commuting Costs
Home to Office: You cannot deduct the mileage or cost of traveling from your home to a regular, permanent studio or office. This is considered a “commute,” which the IRS deems a personal expense.
Exception: You can deduct travel between your first business stop (e.g., the art supply store) and your studio, or from your studio to a client.
3. Personal Meals & Groceries
Solo Meals: You cannot write off your lunch just because you worked through it at the studio.
Groceries: Standard groceries for your home are never deductible, even if you eat them while working.
Exception: Only meals shared with a business contact (client, curator, collaborator) for a clear business purpose are 50% deductible.
4. “Hobby” Expenses
Non-Profit Activities: If your art has not made a profit in at least 3 of the last 5 years, the IRS may classify it as a “hobby.” In this case, you cannot deduct any expenses that exceed your art income.
5. Fines & Penalties
Traffic Tickets: Parking tickets or speeding fines received while driving for business are not deductible.
Tax Penalties: Late filing fees or interest charged by the IRS/state.
6. Portions of “Dual-Use” Items
Personal Phone/Internet Use: You can only deduct the percentage of your cell phone or internet bill that is used specifically for business.
Unexclusive Home Office: You cannot deduct a home office if the space is also used as a guest bedroom, a TV room, or for any other personal purpose. It must be 100% exclusive to your art.
7. Health Insurance (on Schedule C)
Note: While self-employed health insurance is deductible, it usually goes on Form 1040 (Adjustments to Income) rather than Schedule C. It does not reduce your self-employment tax, only your income tax.
The Golden Rule: If you would have bought it or done it even if you weren’t an artist, it’s probably a personal expense. When in doubt, keep the receipt but flag it for your tax professional to make the final call! Download my notes below.
Recently, I had written a private blog about a bad experience I had with a local arts organization. That blog shot up to the top of google search when you looked up our town. Some folks felt concerned, because they felt that my blog made the town look bad. I decided at that moment, to let go and forget the issue. I took down the blog and carried on with my life. However, it has recently come to my attention that the people involved are still using my name in a derogatory way.
So, the updated story is going back up and I’m not keeping it private. I’ve changed some names so it wouldn’t pop up to the top of the search engines, but here’s the full story in all of it’s glory.
To all those people out there who are concerned about bad publicity, I’m sorry, but I’m simply sharing my experience and if you don’t want bad publicity, don’t let people who represent you act like a bunch of mean girls in high school.
How We Support Artists: Organized The First Of Many Exhibitions In Town
So, recently, I started A Local Art Syndicate, a collective of artists in our area. Our intent was to bridge the gap between artists, galleries, open calls, and arts organizations, and share resources. Simple. We wanted to build bridges and give artists a voice. Lately, I’ve discovered that some people prefer sitting on a pile of rocks in the middle of a river, screaming at anyone who tries to bring a shovel and build a bridge.
We reached out to our local arts organizations and received a warm embrace and excitement about what we were doing… except one. I should say, three people who head an organization (who all happen to be related) were the problem. Unfortunately for the other people in that organization (who are actually pretty awesome) my interactions have been with these three. It all started with a “stupid form” for an event that exposed a deep-seated culture of gatekeeping and high-school drama within the organization that we will call the “Boil Kitty Farts Council.”
Buckle up. It gets weird.
Our First Art Syndicate Meeting
It started with me trying to be helpful. (Mistake #1).
I added their upcoming event to our Art Syndicate calendar to promote it. Then, a friend and artist mentioned they were getting major pushback for questioning the application form and that no one had signed up because the form didn’t make sense. Then, more artists from the Syndicate started emailing me, asking, “Rafi, what is this form even for?”
Because we want to support local “Farts” organizations, we decided we would do the event and decided to look at it. I was like, WTF is this? It was a “Vendor Form” for an “Exhibition” where you couldn’t actually “Vend.” It was like being invited to a “Cooking Competition” where you aren’t allowed to turn on the stove. They wanted you to become a partner, but the benefits were vague and confusing. It was all over the place.
We’ve organized Many Art Festivals, Events, And Shows and thought our input could help.
I sent an email to get some clarity and ask if we could make some changes to the form. The response? A bunch of justifications, a vocabulary lesson on what the word EXPO meant, a weird reminder that the sender had a business degree, and a note that they were “born and raised here.”
Cool story. But… is there any plan to fix the form at some point?
I responded and thank them for their clarity (I was being polite) and told them that many of my concerns were not addressed. So, I mentioned that I would come to the meeting and address the board with my questions. No big deal, I just want to help.
The person in charge then emailed me and said I couldn’t address the board because I wasn’t on the agenda, which is a violation of how public boards actually work. I called this person on the phone to clear the air. She told me her daughter had taken my initial email personally. (Because nothing says “Professional Board Member” like letting your family’s feelings dictate public policy.) I told her: “I want the event to succeed!” We talked about budgets and how the city has their hands tied and whatnots. It was friendly enough. However, when I asked again to speak at the meeting. Suddenly, the wall went back up. “You’re not on the agenda.” I said, “Cool, we’ll come anyway as members of the public.”
The day of the meeting we walked into a room and the vibe was… icy. It was like a “Be On the Lookout” alert had been issued for us.
We have gone to several meetings in town and know a lot of people. We have never experienced people tensing up when we walk in a room.
During the meeting, I used the word “sketchy” to describe the form. I didn’t realize that in Boil Kitty, calling a form “sketchy” is apparently a declaration of war. I know there could have been better words I could have used, but in all honesty, it was sketchy and raised red flags. The form was a total misdirect. “Sign up to be a vendor at this expo! Well, no not really, you are actually signing up to be a partner… and no, you can’t vend… but you DO get a table.”
The next morning, the “Legacy” email went out. Apparently, my critique of a form had “tainted the 30-year legacy” of the Farts Town-full. I wasn’t mentioned by name but I’m the only one who said those words. She name dropped a bunch of people who have done awesome things for the arts community (she did this twice in our email exchanges) and associated her name with them. The funny thing is that we have also worked with those people and they would never behaved the way she was behaving.
Then the rumors started. Leadership was reportedly going to local shops asking, “Have you heard the drama about the form?” I hate gossip. It’s juvenile. So I wrote a blog laying out the truth. Transparency is the best disinfectant, right? Well, apparently, they prefer the dark alleys of hearsay. There were other things said about us that I will not share because I don’t want the people that came forward to get any backlash. Let’s just say, they were spreading lies about us.
I then sent a formal complaint to the full board before sending it to the City Manager. The response? Total silence. At this point, I realized this whole situation was consuming my peace. I didn’t want a war over a form for an event nobody was signing up for anyway. So, I took the high road. I retracted the complaint. I took down the blog. I offered to help as a guest. I thought being the “bigger person” would end it. Spoiler: I was very wrong.
Every time I interacted with them on any issue they made it a point to say they represent all the arts and all creatives. To which I was like, “who the heck do you think I’m talking about??”
Then our friend and artist on the board resigned. And how did the leadership handle it? They used my name to attack her in the response to her resignation.
They accused her of bringing her “friends” to the meeting to “secretly record” a public meeting (which is a legal right, by the way). They used my name as a weapon to bully a volunteer who was already emotionally tormented by the whole situation.
The truth is, from the beginning, these individuals have compartmentalized information, twisted the facts, and straight up lied to plead their case. I tried to organize a mediation, so we could address them and the board, and although they agreed to it, the idea of mediation just vanished.
We later found out they were adversarial before we even had our first Syndicate meeting. They saw us as a threat before we ever said a word. Recently, we’ve seen them at other meetings and events, and have experienced the cold shoulder and avoidance. It feels like high school drama. It’s pretty stupid.
So why am I sharing this story again? Because I’m done staying quiet about it. We were asked not to “make the town look bad” by talking about one of its organizations. But listen: I’m not making the town look bad. I’m just holding the flashlight. If the light shows a mess, don’t blame the light. So many people came out of the woodwork that had had similar experiences, yet nobody is talking about it. By avoiding the problem, no change happens.
So, what am I hoping to accomplish? Do I want them fired and take over the Farts Council? Although this is one of the rumors they spread, I have zero interest in taking over. I also don’t need anyone to step down or be fired, but there needs to be accountability. There needs to be a system where people of the community can give feedback without backlash. Honestly, it needs to be more professional. It should be a safe place where people can disagree and keep it from devolving into high school drama. And although I love and adore most of the board members, at no point in time did any of them reach out to address my concerns. Everyone just stayed quiet and avoided the drama that was escalating. How is that acceptable?
What are my plans moving forward? We have always had a very public presence when it comes to helping artists and showcasing what we do. You guys also know that I call it like I see it? So, I’m going to continue to do what I have always done, share my experiences with you. I am not however going to go head to head and make it personal. I’m not going to name names or be hateful in our videos, blogs, and other forms of expression, but you sure as shit know I’m going to use it as examples in my materials for artists. So, at the end of the day, their behavior will be used in videos, blogs, podcasts, and books, to share best practices with the creative community in dealing with people like this.
So there it is! That’s the full story up to now for full transparency. I may do a video in the future because I actually have footage of a lot of this. I was filming a week in the life when this weird situation took over my existence. But we’ll see.
Tips for My Fellow Artists Who Might Be Dealing With Something Similar
Don’t judge the whole Board: Most people are there to help. It’s usually just one or two bad actors poisoning the well.
Don’t get pulled into the drama: Keep your focus on your art. Speak your truth, but don’t gossip, it will make you just as bad as them. Most importantly, don’t get emotionally pulled into their drama and feel like a victim to them. You are not.
The Truth is the defense: If an organization looks bad because you told the truth, there are issues that need addressing.
Keep the receipts: Save every email. Documentation is the only cure for a rumor mill. I have all documentation and recordings of these interactions.
Know when to walk away: If they don’t respect your time, they don’t deserve your talent. You don’t need a seat at the table especially if the don’t respect you. Doesn’t mean you can’t share your experience with others.
The honest truth? Organizations like this run themselves into the ground. Creative organizations need creative people to function. If you run all the creatives off the board… you’re just a group of people sitting in a room talking about things you know nothing about.
Stay rebellious, stay creative, and don’t let the gatekeepers win.
If you’ve been feeling a little “meh” in the studio lately, it’s time for a check-up. We all get hijacked by the wrong motivators sometimes. Print this form out below and put a checkmark next to the “villains” that have been whispering in your ear this week, then look at the “Good Stuff” to find your way home. Watch the video below to get insight into the different motivators we face in our art career.
The Toxic Villains
The ATM Hallucination: You find yourself staring at a blank canvas and calculating how many tubes of Cobalt Blue you can buy if this thing sells for exactly $400. You are essentially treating your muse like a bank teller, and she is currently “out to lunch.”
The Thumb Workout: You have checked your Instagram notifications four times in the last six minutes. Your thumb is getting ripped, but your soul is shriveling. You are currently a digital lab rat waiting for CatLover42 to give you a dopamine pellet.
The Toaster Oven Syndrome: You feel like a failure because you haven’t “popped” out a masterpiece today. You’ve forgotten that you’re a human being and have started identifying as a high-speed 3D printer. (Reminder: You do not have a crumb tray.)
The Higgins Vendetta: You are painting specifically to prove your third-grade teacher wrong. While spite is a fantastic short-term fuel, Mr. Higgins is retired. Let him go.
The Good Stuff (The Real Why)
The First Spark: You remembered why you started doing this art thing in the first place—before the bills, the “likes,” and the algorithms existed. Just you and the pure, quiet joy of making something.
The Creative Megaphone: You finally have something to say that doesn’t fit into a polite conversation at a grocery store. Your art is the only way to say it loud enough.
Legal Magic: You are taking a trauma, a heartbreak, or just a really bad Tuesday and performing “Creative Alchemy” to turn it into something beautiful. You’re turning trash into treasure.
The Life Force: You’re experiencing the sheer magic of bringing something to life that didn’t exist five minutes ago. You aren’t just an artist; you’re a creator, and that is its own reward.
If you checked more boxes in the “Villain” section than the “Good Stuff,” your “Why” is currently being held hostage by the Corporate Conveyor Belt. The cure is simple:
Stop being a production line. You aren’t here to churn out cheap art; you’re here to create fire.
Reconnect with the magic. Forget the business plan for an hour. Go into the studio and make something so weird or personal that you’d be embarrassed to explain it to a stranger.
Bring it to life. Remember that the power to create something from nothing is a superpower. Don’t waste it on trying to look like something normal.
How did you score? Are you currently in panic mode or a creative alchemist mode? Let me know in the comments! I’m in the trenches with you!
The path of pursuing a career in the arts for the last fifteen years has taught me that the journey is both as simple and as complex as you can imagine. Early on, I spent way too much time wrestling with the “what.”
What to paint, what to post, and which “important” people I should be bothering. I was essentially waiting for a miraculous event or a stray lightning bolt to finally put me on the path to my dream life. I used to think that when someone finally noticed me, then I would do the work. I thought once the work sold, I’d paint bigger, or once I got the grant, I’d finally start that new body of work.
But the reality is always the other way around. You don’t get the feast before you show up to the kitchen and cook the meal. (And trust me, trying to eat a “theoretical” feast is a great way to starve.)
We often think that success leads to happiness, but psychological research suggests the opposite is true. According to the “Broaden and Build” theory developed by Dr. Barbara Fredrickson, positive emotions like interest and love do more than just make us feel fuzzy in the moment, they actually broaden our sense of possibility.
When you start from a place of doing what you love, your brain is chemically primed to see opportunities that a stressed out, “discipline only” mind would completely miss. This isn’t just fluffy, “live laugh love” advice found on a discounted throw pillow. Love and curiosity trigger the release of dopamine, which enhances creative problem solving and cognitive flexibility. By starting with the thing you love, you are literally building the mental resources needed to sustain a creative career. You’re basically bio hacking your way to better “arting.”
This is why focusing on building up your follower count, stressing about the business side, or trying to create what sells will destroy your creative practice. You have to remember why you started creating in the first place.
The real secret is that the vision must always come before the validation. We often wait for a sign to know if we are successful, but devotion is required long before the proof arrives.
It is not about a hardcore, drill sergeant lifestyle of waking up at 4:00 AM to scream at a canvas while doing burpees. It is about really loving what you do and wanting to spend more time doing it. As a byproduct of that time, you get better. You articulate your vision more clearly, and people eventually respond to that.
Just this morning, some awesome person purchased one of my paintings. While that feels semi normal to me now, it was once a burning hope for a younger version of myself who just wanted someone to want the things I loved creating. I’ve realized that I am only responsible for nurturing my own vision and falling in love with the process. People can sense when things are forced or formulaic, but they truly feel passion. When you resonate with your own work, the world eventually starts to resonate with it too.
My advice is that your focus shouldn’t just be on “scaling a business” or “optimizing an art career,” but on a deeper question: How can I make my entire day a fun work of art? When the path is enjoyable, you don’t have to force yourself to show up.
Think about it: no one has to force you to go out for tacos. You want that spicy, crunchy, delicious goodness. You don’t need a motivational speaker or a $1500 self help marketing course to get you to the taco stand.
If you are struggling with a creative or business block, ask yourself if you are making the work for you or if you are following some kind of external pressure of things you think you “should” do. When you make something you are proud of, you naturally want to share it with the world… just do that. The connection will happen on its own. You don’t have to force it, despite what the marketing gurus (who usually only sell courses on how to be a marketing guru) have to say.
Connecting with other people is just a byproduct of your excitement. Think about it: if you are excited about that taco place you just experienced and tell your friends about it, you’ve become an expert in marketing. You boast about the atmosphere, the experience, and the salsa that changed your life. You want to share that info with everyone you know.
Do the same with what you create. That is fun and “marketing” at its best.
Let’s keep it simple. Get in the kitchen, have some fun, and go out and talk about your creative tacos.
We are stupid excited right now. There is something fun and strange in the neighborhood for February. Our little town never ceases to amaze us especially when it comes to having fun.
Look, if you would have told us a few years ago that we’d be helping prep an event in Oil City that is part of a a full-blown Mardi Gras celebration on Seneca Street, we probably would have laughed and then immediately asked where to sign up.
Honestly, we are so incredibly stoked about this. There is something so special about watching this town wake up and start doing cool, vibrant stuff like this. It’s exactly the kind of energy we dreamed of when we joined Art Night At The Exchange. Seeing the community come together not just for a drink, but for a shared experience is why we love being here.
So, What’s the Big Deal with Mardi Gras?
If you aren’t from New Orleans, you might just think it’s an excuse to wear plastic beads and eat cake. And, I mean, it is. But at its heart, Mardi Gras (or “Fat Tuesday”) is the ultimate “last hurrah.” It’s that one day where you’re supposed to live it up, eat the rich food, dance in the street, and be as loud and colorful as possible before the quiet of the spring season kicks in. Also, the season of Lent begins. Historically, Lent is a forty day period of fasting, reflection, and giving things up, so this is the last party for a while.
It’s all about the phrase Laissez les bons temps rouler which means let the good times roll. It’s a reminder to stop taking life so seriously for a night and just enjoy the people around you.
The Seneca Street Takeover
The fact that we’re doing a Mardi Gras Crawl right here in Oil City on Tuesday, February 17th is just perfect. We’ve got this epic lineup: Billy’s, Cork n Screw, Double Play, McNerney’s, and us at The Exchange. The goal? Hit every spot, grab a festive snack or a drink, and collect a different colored bead at every door. By the end of the night, the goal is to be draped in beads and high on good vibes.
We Don’t Do “Basic” Disguises
Klee and I were talking, and we realized: if we’re going to do a crawl, we can’t just show up in our everyday hoodies. We need to look the part.
So, on Wednesday, February 11th, we’re doing a Mardi Gras Mask Making night at the exchange. We’re skipping the cheap plastic stuff. We’re going to get into the feathers, the sequins, and the bold paints to help you make something that actually feels like a piece of art. We’ll have two craft cocktails ready for you, some good music playing, and we’re just going to hang out and create.
I woke up this morning, and our house is 55 degrees because our boiler got over taxed last night and temporarily shut down. It needs a new part, so hopefully I can order that soon. I got it working now, so I’m waiting for the house to heat up in the warmest room we have with nothing to do but think and write. I’ll get back in the art studio when it doesn’t feel like an ice box. So, here’s what I’ve been thinking about this morning. It’s been over 15 years since Klee and I hitched our wagon to this wild dream of being full-time creators. Looking back, if we had followed all the “expert” advice we were given at the start, we’d probably be bored out of our minds. People told us to “niche down” and pick one tiny lane. Instead, we decided to drive the bus across the whole landscape.
Here is the unvarnished truth of what we’ve learned about the business of being an artist while building our own creative universe.
1. The Niche is a Lie (For Us, Anyway)
Everyone says you have to do one thing. If you’re a painter, just paint. But I’m a painter, a muralist, and an author. Klee is a fine jewelry artist who uses old world techniques to give her pieces raw energy. Together, we’re a band, we’re podcasters, Youtubers, and we’re community builders. We learned that specialized silos are for grain, not for people. Doing “everything” doesn’t dilute who we are, it fuels us. That being said, if you are all about doing the one thing, that’s ok too.
2. Redefine Success Before Someone Else Does
In an era where creative success is often measured in money, follower counts and viral trends, we decided to define success on our own terms. One of our core values is to not chase money, fame, likes, subscribers, accolades, power, or validation as a definition of success. If you’re measuring your worth by the numbers on a screen, you’re playing a game you can’t win. Success for us is measured by our ability to live our values and share ourselves and our craft however we can. With this we hope to inspire creativity in others.
3. Master the Financial Rollercoaster
Being an artist means dealing with the ups and downs of money. Some months are good, and some are just plain bad. You have to be smart and have a solid plan for those slow months. Klee and I had to build a very strict budget to handle the unforeseen dips in income, and we made sure to keep our bills as low as possible. It might not sound like “fun creative time,” but you have to put on your financial hat and wear it. You need to know exactly how much money comes in and how much goes out. Most importantly, don’t fall into despair when things get tight; it doesn’t help. Just pull up your bootstraps and come up with a plan. Also, understand that no matter how solid your financial plan is, the shit can always hit the fan and it can fall apart. Be emotionally prepared for that as well. You can always pick yourself up as long as you don’t fall apart.
4. Build a Bridge, Not a Pedestal (There are too many “gurus” out there.)
We don’t want to be gurus on a mountaintop; we want to be in the trenches with you. Whether it’s through our Patreon community or the OC Art Syndicate here in Oil City, we’ve learned that the “starving artist” trope only survives when we stay isolated. We created the Syndicate to be a local place for the misfits and the makers to unite. Our mission is to nurture a community without hierarchy, seeing everyone as equal.
5. Analog is the Ultimate Life Hack
We do a lot online, and have built a wonderful online community, but there is a downside to having a big audience. Responding to a thousand digital comments is a great way to burn out. That’s why we started the Dear Artist Mailbox Project. We asked people to slow down and write us actual, handwritten letters. Writing by hand slows your thoughts down, and that space is where honesty tends to live. It brings the relationship back to basics and protects us from the burnout of perpetual online engagement.
6. Being Brutally Honest Is Hard But Real
Most people only show the highlight reel. We decided to show the whole story. We wanted transparency. It’s easy to pretend that everything is going good for you, and it is really hard to be real. It’s expensive to be real and not pretend that you have your shit together. We don’t sell courses on how to be an artist and make 100K a year (Which can only really teach you how to sell courses and make 100k a year off of desperate artists). For years, our art business covered the cost of creating videos, blogs, and podcasts, even though it was a financial sinkhole. But we had to share what we have learned. We had to express our truth whether someone was listening or not. We’ve had months where nothing was happening financially with our art. We’ve had some hard times and some pretty good ones and shared them all. That’s life. This level of honesty is hard, but it dismantles the myth of the effortlessly successful artist. It sends a clear message: it’s hard, it’s messy, and you are not alone.
There is no map for this. There is only opportunity. If you’re waiting for someone to give you the “right” rules to follow, stop waiting. Make the whole landscape yours.
What is one thing you have learned on your journey through life? Whether you are an artist or not, we would love to hear it.
People often ask Klee and me how this whole “partnership” thing started. They see us navigating our creative careers as artists, jewelers, and authors, or managing the day to day of Rafi and Klee Studios, and assume we’ve always had it all figured out. The truth is, our story didn’t start in a gallery or a studio; it started with a heated argument over a pile of burning wood in 2008.
We met at a bonfire at my brother’s house. I remember arguing with her across the flames about the concept of imperfection. I told her that the idea that people are “imperfect” is only popular because we’re constantly measuring ourselves against standards designed to make us conform.
My stance was simple: You are inherently perfect at being you. No one can do a better job of it than you can. It’s when we try to be like someone else, or some standard that we don’t fully embrace, that we run into imperfection. She had questions, the conversation was invigorating, and I’m pretty sure I fell in love with her right then and there. We hugged for the first time that night, and then she vanished. She left on a road trip with her band, and I didn’t see or speak to her for months.
Fast forward a year. My brother and sister in law dragged me to a bar to see a show. I really didn’t want to go, but I went anyway to support them. In a literal sea of drunk people, I saw her. It turned out she was also there as a favor to someone else. We found each other, held hands, and didn’t let go for the rest of the night. We’ve pretty much been together ever since.
Not long after that fateful night in 2009, we hit the road. We spent two years living out of a ’92 Ford Explorer, traveling and figuring out who we were as individuals and a team. Since then, we have had so many adventures. We’ve traveled the country, fed the hungry tarpon, stood by the southernmost point of the US, and even investigated Robert the Doll.
Professionally, we’ve built a life that most people only dream of:
Started a thriving art business and created thousands of works of art and jewelry.
Worked on several large murals in public places.
Traveled to over a thousand festivals and held several large art exhibitions.
Played countless music gigs and authored several books.
Been interviewed in newspapers, magazines, and on television.
Were featured in a PBS documentary.
Gained a large YouTube following and released a podcast.
This was our home for 2 years
We’ve adventured, struggled, fallen on our faces, climbed mountains, and we’ve succeeded. It has been epic. We eventually landed in Pensacola, Florida, where we really planted our roots as professional artists. It was there that we learned the grit of the festival circuit and refined our craft under the sun. But in 2021, we felt the pull toward something new and moved to Oil City, PA to buy our dream house.
Now that we are settled here, we aren’t slowing down. We are currently pouring our energy into the community by starting the Art Syndicate, organizing the Create and Sip events, and hosting monthly art exhibitions at The Exchange. We’ve even been lucky enough to spend time teaching art to the kids at St. Stephen’s. We are getting geared up for an awesome year ahead, filled with more festivals and even bigger exhibitions.
I think when I left the corporate world all those years ago, I decided I was going to look at my life as an adventure I didn’t want to sleep through, which is why we try to experience so much. Luckily for me, I found a partner who is there with me enjoying every step of the way.
We have lived, played, and worked together since 2009. Whether we are hunkering down for a massive snowstorm, a hurricane, a tornado, a health scare, or a power outage or simply pushing through a “mountain of work” on a new project we do it together. We’ve faced the negative people who doubted we would ever make it, and we’ve come out stronger on the other side.
I’ve realized that the “perfection” I argued for at that bonfire exists in our life together. When we are in the studio, time stops and nothing else exists; just me, the art, and Klee. It’s been a crazy, wild ride, and every year that passes, I fall more and more in love. I’m looking forward to what the next two decades have in store for us.
We’ll be sharing more about our story of how we met during our live stream event “Love and Jazz Hands” Hope to see you there! Here’s The Link to our next event:
If you’ve been following the blog, you know I’ve been wrestling with some “worry crap” in my gears lately. Well, the universe has a funny way of providing a solution, and this time, it’s arriving in the form of a massive, cold, fluffy blanket.
Western PA is officially under a Winter Storm Warning starting tonight at 7:00 PM and running through noon on Monday. The forecast is calling for anywhere from 9 to 14 inches of snow, with some local “overachievers” possibly hitting the 16-inch mark.
It’s been a hot minute since we’ve seen a storm this significant. Now, Klee and I are originally from the Chicago area, so we aren’t exactly snow-shook. We know the drill. But there’s a difference between “dealing with snow” and “embracing the hunker.”
We’ve officially declared a state of emergency at the house, which mostly involves making sure we have enough snacks and art supplies to survive a minor ice age. We hit the store for the essentials:
Food (the “hunker down” diet is real).
Provisions for the soul (art materials).
Mental permission to stay put.
We’ve cleared the calendar and cancelled everything. No meetings, no errands, no outside world. There is one exception, though: teaching art at St. Stephen’s. If they decide to stay open on Monday, we are committed to getting there to inspire the kids.
How, you ask? Well, we have a few old tennis rackets in the garage. If the roads are impassable, we are fully prepared to strap those bad boys to our boots and trek through the drifts like 19th-century explorers. It might look ridiculous, but the “Tennis Racket Snow-Shoe Expedition” is a small price to pay for art education.
Of course, reality eventually sets in. As much as I hate shoveling, I know I’ll be out there at some point, grumbling and clearing a path so we aren’t entombed until spring. I am definitely not looking forward to it, but hey, it’s a great way to work those Glutes and burn off some of those “hunker down” snacks.
A Note on Shipping: If you have an order with us that was due to ship out, please check your inbox! We may have sent you an email regarding a change in your shipping date while we wait for the plows to do their thing.
Beyond the potential Arctic trek to the school and the inevitable back-breaking shoveling, the plan is simple: undisturbed creating.
Remember that “split brain” I was talking about? The one where I couldn’t stop thinking about websites and e-commerce while holding a brush? A foot of snow is the perfect cure for that. There is something about the world going quiet under a layer of white that makes the studio feel like a sacred sanctuary.
When you literally cannot go anywhere, the pressure to “do” something productive in the business sense just melts away. It’s just me, Klee, the studio, and the snow. No more refreshing analytics. No more worrying about the “what-ifs.”
So, if you need us, we’ll be the ones buried under a mountain of snow, probably covered in paint, and finally finding that timeless flow where nothing else exists.
Stay warm, Western PA. See you on the other side of the drifts!
Upcoming Public & Virtual Events:
PATREON ONLY - Artist Group Hangout - The Comparison trap April 19, 2026 at 4:00 pm – 6:00 pm
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PATREON ONLY - The Permission Slip You Don't Need - Live Podcast Recording April 26, 2026 at 5:00 pm – 6:00 pm
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Opening Reception Emergent Petals Gallery Night (Local) April 29, 2026 at 6:00 pm – 8:00 pm
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PATREON ONLY - Navigating The Valley Of Suck - Live Podcast Recording May 3, 2026 at 5:00 pm – 6:00 pm
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