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Our Love Story: From a ’92 Ford Explorer to Rafi and Klee Studios

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.

A close-up view of a fire pit with burning logs, surrounded by grass and a stone base, while a person's legs in jeans are visible in the foreground.

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.

A woman smiling while sitting at an outdoor table with a drink in hand, in front of a colorful building with the sign 'Hatchery.'

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.
A man wearing a bandana and casual clothing is making a playful gesture with his hands, while a woman with long hair, holding a drink, watches him with a surprised expression. The setting appears to be a casual indoor gathering.
An old Ford SUV parked on a grassy area, featuring colorful decorative graphics on the body and a roof rack with items on top.
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.

A man with glasses and a straw hat making a surprised expression next to a woman smiling, both taking a selfie in an art gallery with colorful paintings in the background.

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:

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Time To Hunker Down: Big Winter Storm On The Horizon

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.”

Person tossing snowflakes in the air while standing in a snowy yard, wearing a green beanie and a warm jacket.

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 snowy backyard scene depicting a layer of snow covering the ground, trees, and a house in the background. The porch structure is visible in the foreground.

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!

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When Your Art Brain Refuses to Leave Business Mode

We’ve all been there. You spend a week glued to a computer chair, fueled by caffeine and the frantic energy of a person possessed with getting the project live. Klee and I just finished a marathon of organizing Create and Sip events and a monthly art exhibition at The Exchange here in Oil City.

We built the schedules, dreamed up themes, and birthed an entire e-commerce section on our website from scratch so ticket buying is a breeze. It was a literal mountain of work. I did the same for our new Art Syndicate. I hit “Publish,” wiped the sweat from my brow, and waited for the internet to explode in applause.

Instead? Crickets.

A person sitting on a green couch, wearing a red bandana and a black jacket, looking at their phone with one hand on their face, appearing deep in thought.

Logically, I know online projects take time to simmer. But my brain? My brain is currently a stubborn mule standing in the middle of the tracks, refusing to move toward the studio.

Usually, after a big push, I transition back into “Artist Mode.” I pick up a brush, the gears shift, and the magic happens. But this week, I’ve got what I call worry crap in my gears.

My noggin is stuck in a loop:

  • “Did I use the right font on that button?”
  • “Why hasn’t the entire local area bought tickets in the last five minutes?”
  • “Maybe if I just refresh the page one more time…”

When I actually stop to look at this mental grinding, I recognize the culprit: Control. I want to control the outcomes. I want to control the sales. I want to control how every person in the Oil City area reacts to these projects. But here is the cold, hard truth: I have a remote control with no batteries. I can build the stage, light the lights, and open the doors, but I can’t force people to sit in the seats. Obsessing over it doesn’t make the success happen faster; it just keeps me from moving into the creative space where the actual magic lives.

I actually did get into the studio this week, but I felt split. Half of me was holding a brush, and the other half was still staring at a spreadsheet in my mind. I don’t know about you, but that “divided house” vibe doesn’t work for me. When I am truly creative, time stops and nothing else exists. It’s just me, the studio, and Klee. If I’m thinking about art business stuff while trying to find the right shade of blue, the magic stays locked in the cupboard.

A man with a beard and glasses sits in an armchair, holding a painted wooden piece in a workshop filled with art supplies and colorful artwork.

The Solution: The “Studio Sanctuary” Reset

If you’re stuck in the “worry crap” loop, you can’t just tell your brain to “stop.” You have to physically and mentally evict yourself from the problem. Here is how I’m greasing the gears to get back to the canvas:

  • Declare a “Project Quarantine”: Step away from the screen. Close the tabs. Mute the notifications. Give the project a “rest period” let’s say 48 hours to a week. The website won’t spontaneously combust if you aren’t staring at it. By putting the project in quarantine, you give the digital dust time to settle and your brain permission to stop patrolling the perimeter.
  • The “Sacrificial” Canvas: Sometimes the jump from “Business Logic” to “Creative Flow” is too steep. Don’t try to paint a masterpiece immediately. Grab a scrap piece of wood or a cheap canvas and just move paint. No goal, no getting it perfect, no “audience.” Just the feeling of the bristles. This is the bridge back to your creative self.
  • Trust the “Simmer”: Think of your business project like a slow cooked chili. You’ve put all the ingredients in, you’ve turned on the heat, and you’ve put the lid on. Opening the lid every five seconds to poke it just lets the heat out. Trust that the work you did is working for you while you are away. You can always come back and “season” it later with updates, but for now, it needs to cook in the background.

Not being able to shift gears means you aren’t moving. And if you aren’t moving, you’re just a parked car idling in a dark garage.

The work is done. The links are live. Now, it’s time to let the “business me” take a nap so the “artist me” can finally play. The studio is calling, and the only way to hear it is to turn off the noise of the “what-ifs.”

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This Year Is Going To Be Insanely Awesome For Us

If 2025 was the year we hit the “slow-mo” button, 2026 is the year we accidentally sat on the “ludicrous speed” remote. We are back, we are ready, and we’ve added so many new things to the website and our calendar that my planner is currently a mess I can barely read.

There is a lot to cover, so grab a snack (and maybe a protective apron) because here is the breakdown of what’s happening in our world for 2026.

The “Social Butterfly” Tour: Markets & Shows

A couple stands behind a vendor booth at a craft fair, surrounded by colorful artwork and handcrafted jewelry. The booth features a display of paintings, photographs, and various jewelry items.

Klee and I love our studio time. It’s our sanctuary, our happy place, and frankly, the only place where it’s socially acceptable to have blue paint in my beard. But this year, we’re stepping out of the cave a little more!

  • The Curb Market: Starting in June, you can find us at the weekly Curb Market right here in Oil City. We’ll be there with art, smiles, and probably a very specific type of morning delirium that only exists at outdoor markets.
  • The Exchange Takeover: We are officially taking the reins on Art Night At The Exchange! We’ve had a total blast at every event there so far, so we decided to crank it up. Expect a fun Art Night every single month, plus… wait for it… a monthly open call art exhibition and reception. It’s going to be a revolving door of incredible local talent, and we can’t wait to see what the amazing artists in our area create.
  • Mural Fest? (Keep your fingers crossed!): We are currently in talks with Mainstreet and the Mural Board about bringing a brand-new event to town: Mural Fest. Imagine the town covered in fresh color and massive creativity. We are working hard to make this happen, so stay tuned for updates!
A group of people engaged in a painting class, with a male instructor assisting. Participants are holding their artworks featuring sunset scenes.

We’re Back on Your Screens (and in Your Ears!)

For those who have missed our faces (and our tangents), we have big news: We are officially back on YouTube! We’ve missed the camera, and we’ve missed you. We are jumping back in with both feet and relaunching our videos and the podcast. Whether you want to watch us navigate a disaster in the studio or listen to us talk shop about the creative life while you work on your own masterpieces, we’ll be there. Head over to the channel and make sure those notifications are on!

Community & Collaboration (The “Art Syndicate”?)

Speaking of talent, we’ve officially started a local art group called The Art Syndicate. It sounds very mysterious and “underground,” doesn’t it? In reality, it’s a gathering of creative minds joining forces to support one another, share resources, and make sure the local art scene stays weird and wonderful.

Three individuals smiling and holding drinks, standing in an art gallery with colorful paintings in the background.
An art teacher explains perspective drawing techniques on a chalkboard while students sit at desks, working on their assignments.

We’re also continuing our work at St. Stephen’s School. We absolutely love those kids! Their lack of “creative ego” and pure joy for making a mess is a constant reminder of why we started doing this in the first place. Teaching them isn’t just a job; it’s a bi-monthly recharge for our own creative batteries.

The Virtual World: Patreon & Beyond

For those of you who aren’t local to Oil City and have joined our online community don’t worry, we haven’t forgotten you! We are leaning into our Patreon more than ever this year.

A man with glasses and a bandana smiles while sitting next to a woman who is laughing, both engaged in a live podcast recording. The background includes wooden panels with string lights, and there are microphones and other podcasting equipment visible.
  • Weekly Hangouts: We’re doing weekly private livestreams and group meetings that range from deep-dive art talks to “what on earth are Rafi and Klee creating now?”
  • Virtual Art Show: This is the big one! We are organizing a virtual art show specifically for our Patreon collab challenges. This means we get to showcase incredible art from our community members all over the world. Global talent, zero travel lag.

The “Do Not Disturb” Sign

An artist stands in a colorful workshop with artwork on the walls, various supplies on shelves, and a bright blue door in the background.

Now, before you think we’ve become full-time event planners, let’s be clear: The Studio is Sacred. Klee and I have officially designated several “Don’t Bother Us” days throughout most of the week. These are the days we lock the doors, ignore the emails, and just create. It’s non-negotiable. Connecting with humans is great, but connecting a brush to a canvas or hammering on metal is what keeps us sane enough to do all the other stuff! Honestly, without it, we wouldn’t have anything to share.

Check Out the New Features!

We’ve been tinkering under the hood of the website to make it easier for you to find new pieces, sign up for events, and see what we’re up to. Head over to the homepage to see the shiny new updates and the latest gallery additions.

2026 is about balance: Creating in private, celebrating in public, and making sure art stays at the center of it all. We can’t wait to see you at the market, at an exhibition, at an art syndicate meeting, at The Exchange, or on the livestream!

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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!

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.

CONGRATUALATIONS ALIYU!

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!