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Welcome to “Rafi’s Random Creative Ramblings,” where the unexpected meets the creative. Join Rafi as he delves into a wide array of topics, from spontaneous art projects and philosophical musings to practical advice for fellow artists. This blog is a place for curiosity, inspiration, and a bit of randomness, reflecting Rafi’s eclectic and vibrant approach to life and art. Whether you’re looking for a light-hearted read or deep insights, Rafi’s ramblings promise to entertain and enlighten. Dive in and enjoy the unpredictable journey of creativity and expression with Rafi!

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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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Our Ritual for Not Imploding in January

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Rafi

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Happy New Year, Amazing Humans!

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

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

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

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

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

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

That alone feels like a win.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

With love,
Rafi & Klee

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

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Merry Christmas, You Beautiful Humans

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

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

I want to tell you a short story.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Lurve, Rafi and Klee

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

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

Or, more accurately…

A don’t be dumb like me post.

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

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

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

The problem happened before the show.

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

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

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

Perfect timing, right?

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

Brilliant.

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

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

Except… not really.

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

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

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

So I sprayed the sink.

Then another layer.

Then another.

Then… I emptied the entire can.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

None.
Gone.
Vanished.

Which brings me to the point of this whole post.

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

The PSA Part

Do not be dumb like me.

Seriously.

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

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

What You Should Always Have on Hand

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

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

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

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

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

Stay safe out there.
And wear the damn mask.

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Why Being an Artist Is Both Amazing and Absolutely Terrifying

This morning as I was spraying sealant on the studio sink (in an enclosed area with no ventilation so this message might be weird) I was thinking about something. I thought about the beautiful, ridiculous roller coaster that is being an artist. We have a pop up tomorrow at Clifford’s in Oil City and I find myself rushing around at the last minute trying to get everything ready for it. People often imagine that the life of a creative human is a serene, mystical experience filled with gentle inspiration, endless cups of perfectly brewed coffee, and large sunlit studios where inspiration strikes at the perfect moment.

Yeah… no.

Being an artist is one of the most amazing experiences you can have as a human, and one of the most terrifying things you can sign up for. It’s like having a dragon for a pet. It sounds awesome. It’s magical, powerful, life-changing, and occasionally it wants to set your hair on fire or eat your friends.

Let me explain.

A person holding a colorful painting in front of a vibrant mural depicting diverse scenes and characters, showcasing engagement and creativity in an artistic environment.

You Get to Create Worlds… Which Is Amazing.

You Also Have No Map… Which Is Terrifying.

Every time you sit down to create, you are literally pulling something out of thin air. That’s incredible. You get to build something that never existed before you walked into the room. Everything you do as an artist is uniquely yours. But, there’s no roadmap for creating something new, including an art career. Every attempt to succeed, every blank canvas, lump of clay, sheet of paper, or hunk of metal has the audacity to look you dead in the eye and say,

“So… you got a plan? Yeah right.”

And then the internal panic kicks in. That’s usually when many people quit. We talk ourselves out of that project or idea. This is where persistence comes in. Not only persistence, but the willingness to being unreasonably optimistic about what things will look like in the future. Every day, as an artist, I have to convince myself to put one foot in front of the other and keep going.

A person wearing a magnifying headset works on jewelry at a wooden workbench surrounded by various tools and materials in a colorful studio.

You Chase Passion… Which Is Amazing.

You Also Chase It Off a Cliff Sometimes… Which Is Terrifying.

Art comes from the heart. You follow gut feelings, wild ideas, and emotional lightning bolts. This is the stuff that makes life feel alive. But then there are days when your passion and optimism abandons you. You think, “I didn’t sign up for this chaos”. And you’re left standing in the studio thinking:

“Cool, so now what? Should I quit? Should I paint a potato? Should I take a nap? Should I panic? All of the above?”

Yet if you persist, your passion and optimism will always return… eventually. You’ll think, “Hey, I’ve got an idea…”
and suddenly you’re back in the game.

An artist sitting at a cluttered studio table surrounded by various art supplies, finished paintings, and open boxes labeled with craft materials.

You’re Vulnerable… Which Is Amazing.

You’re Also Too Vulnerable… Which Is Terrifying.

Every time you put yourself out there, every piece of art you make is basically you stripping off your armor.
You pour your thoughts, emotions, stories, and weird little quirks into everything you do. People don’t realize that when they look at your art, they’re basically looking at your guts in an artform.

This is why showing your work feels like saying, “Here is my soul, hope you like it, no pressure.”

But that vulnerability is also what connects you to other humans. It’s what makes someone walk up to your art, pause, breathe, and whisper, “That’s exactly how I feel.”

That moment? Worth every ounce of terror.

Three individuals stand outdoors by a calm lake, smiling and interacting with each other. The background features a lush green forest and houses. The person in the center has glasses and a colorful hat, while the others are dressed in casual and semi-formal attire.

Creative Freedom… Which Is Amazing.

Financial Uncertainty… Which Is Terrifying.

Ah yes, the glamorous life of a professional artist. You get freedom, adventure, new ideas, and the ability to build your entire life from scratch. And also anxiety. Lots of anxiety. A healthy sprinkling of “Will this sell?” A dash of “Do I need to become a barista?” (By the way, there is nothing wrong with that.) And a generous scoop of “Why does everything cost so much? Who decided this?”

But the truth is, the freedom you get as an artist is priceless. Yes, you are in uncharted waters and every learning curve feels like a disaster, but being an artist is all about being comfortable in the discomfort. It’s not for everyone (although it could be). The willingness to pick yourself up and keep moving forward through uncertainty is a superpower we develop the longer we do this. It’s not easy, but it is life changing. It’s terrifying, yes, but unbelievably empowering.

An art teacher demonstrating perspective drawing on a chalkboard, with students attentively engaged in the classroom.

Growth Is Amazing… But Growth Is Also Terrifying.

As an artist, you are always growing, evolving, pushing boundaries, and stepping outside comfort zones. That’s what makes the journey rich. But stepping outside comfort zones is basically code for, “I’m going to scare myself a little today.”

Every new project asks you to be braver than yesterday. Every big idea asks you to trust yourself more than feels reasonable. And every new creation or outreach teaches you something, usually the hard way because artists are stubborn creatures.

But oh, the feeling when it all comes together eventually. When you have a successful showing. When someone connects with your art. When the piece is finished. When your heart feels full. When you can step back and say,
“I did that. Me. My hands. My chaos. My creativity.”

That’s the moment that makes every fear worth facing.

A man wearing a green dragon onesie and a woman in a silver dress sit together in a cozy living room, surrounded by colorful artwork and soft lighting, with video recording equipment in front of them.

So Why Do We Do It?

Because art is the place where the terrifying becomes transformative. Because we get to take all our messy human feelings and turn them into something beautiful, weird, powerful, joyful, emotional, colorful, meaningful. Because we get to connect with people in ways words alone can’t touch. Because creating is freedom, and true freedom (even with its fear) is one of the most exhilarating experiences we get in this life.

Being an artist is wild.
It’s unpredictable.
It’s emotional.
It’s overwhelming.
It’s magical.
It’s terrifying.
It’s amazing.

And honestly, I wouldn’t trade it for anything.

Love,
Rafi And Klee

CONGRATULATIONS TO ERICA!

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When Your Entire House Explodes Into Art (A Holiday Tradition)

Every December, like clockwork, our home transforms from a peaceful, cozy sanctuary into… well… whatever happens when an art studio explodes into the rest of the house.

This year is no exception.

In fact, I walked through the house this morning and realized that every single room (including spaces that should, by all logic, be art-free) now contains at least three paintings and a stack of Artist Enhanced Prints threatening to avalanche at any moment. Even the rugs have joined the chaos, rolled up like they’re plotting an escape.

A cluttered living room filled with various paintings leaning against furniture, rolled-up rugs, and art supplies scattered around, showcasing a creative chaos in preparation for the holiday season.

Klee and I keep saying, “This is normal, right? Other people’s homes look like this before the holidays… right?”
Absolutely not. But here we are anyway, knee-deep in canvases, surrounded by stacks of art, packaging materials, jewelry trays, tiny easels, tape guns, and a work table that looks like a rainbow threw up all over it.

And honestly? We wouldn’t have it any other way.

The living room couches are buried under framed originals, minis, prints, and a smiley pillow who has emotionally checked out.

A cluttered living room showcasing an array of paintings, art supplies, and framed artworks. A large canvas with a figure is prominently displayed, surrounded by stacks of smaller prints, notebooks, and colorful throws. Warm lighting enhances the creative chaos present in the space.

The dining table is currently functioning as the Shipping Command Center.
The studio looks like an Art Fairy sneezed paint supplies all over it.
The floor is a path of flattened boxes, packaging, and whatever project we promised we wouldn’t start until January.
Our desks are a pile of lists, notes, scribbles, and cups of cold tea and coffee.

Every corner whispers, “You’re not behind, you’re just… seasonally overwhelmed.”

And honestly? That feels accurate.

A cluttered dining table filled with stacks of paintings, packaging materials, reusable tote bags, and an open shipping box, creating a vibrant and chaotic creative workspace.

Because this week is our holiday marathon, the big creative hurrah, the final sprint to wrap up the year with art, music, chaos, laughter, and community.

And the schedule is a wild one.

This Week’s Holiday Madness

December 5th at 5pm EST
Virtual Holiday Open Studio (live stream).
Grab your cocoa, throw on your cozy socks, and come hang out with us from your couch. We’ll be sharing art, jewelry, music, stories, and we’re doing a giveaway.
Watch here: https://www.youtube.com/live/iEPTFHSQB3M

December 6th, 12pm–4pm
Opening Reception at The Manos Gallery for Whispers of the Artful Traveler.
Come see the work in person, chat, wander, soak in creativity, and explore what inspires artists on their journey.
200 Freeport Rd, New Kensington, PA 15068

Two smiling individuals standing in a brightly lit room with a staircase in the background. One person has short hair and is wearing a casual jacket, while the other has a bearded face, glasses, and a bandana, wearing a t-shirt and a jacket with paint stains.
Us Hanging Out At The Manos Gallery

December 13th, 10am–4pm
Holiday Makers Market Pop-Up at Clifford’s in Oil City.
Come say hi, sip something tasty, shop for gifts, and enjoy the creative magic.

And somewhere between all this, we’re teaching on Monday… and possibly holding an event at The Exchange on Wednesday. Because why not. It’s December. Chaos is the brand.

Here’s the thing that keeps hitting me as we run around trying not to drown in bubble wrap:

Last year, we didn’t get to do any of this.

Klee was sick.
We had to cancel everything.
The house stayed calm only because we never got the chance to do what we love.

This year, yeah, it’s chaos.
Yeah, we’re exhausted.
Yeah, the living room looks like an art-themed yard sale hosted by a hair band.

But we’re here.
Klee is feeling better.
We’re working together, side by side at our computers, in the studio, juggling listings, prepping tables, counting art, double-checking calendars, and laughing every time we remember I said “Easter Standard Time” in the video I posted on social media today.

A cluttered desk in an artist's studio, featuring stacks of books, art supplies, and paintings, creating a chaotic but lively creative workspace.

We get to do this. And that means everything.

People see the events, the live streams, the gallery receptions, and the pop-ups, but what they don’t see is:

Drying racks covered in fresh varnish.
Paintings stacked in every room like Tetris on expert mode.
Us trying to remember which bin the display stands went into.
Me losing the packing tape every 30 seconds.
Klee keeping the entire ship from sinking with spreadsheets and organization magic.
Calendars everywhere. So many calendars.
Three trips to Aldi for bags and snacks.
The “one more thing” that magically becomes twenty more things.

It’s messy.
It’s intense.
It’s overwhelming.
It’s also inspiring, hilarious, and deeply meaningful.

This is the backstage reality of being full-time creators.
It’s not tidy. It’s not glamorous.
But it’s alive.

A cozy living room cluttered with various paintings, framed art, and stacks of art supplies on the furniture and floor, depicting the vibrant chaos of a creative home during the holiday season.

To us, this is what the final chapter of the year looks like.

It’s hope.
It’s gratitude.
It’s celebration.
It’s the beautiful mess of doing what we love.

And after last year, we’re embracing every chaotic second of it.

So come join us for the final hurrah of 2025, online or in person. We love having you along for this wild, creative ride.

Here’s to art exploding everywhere.
Here’s to healing.
Here’s to community.
Here’s to ending the year full of color.

– Love Rafi and Klee

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Artist Sunday in Oil City. Your Ultimate Guide to Creative Shenanigans

HAPPY ARTIST’S SUNDAY!!

Artist Sunday in Oil City is basically the Super Bowl of local creativity minus the football, plus with more artsy, handmade things, and zero risk of being hit in the face with a cheese covered nacho. It is the cozy finale of the Thanksgiving weekend trifecta, and this year Oil City is showing up big.

The whole town turns into a walkable, art filled extravaganza with musicians, makers, demonstrations, book signings, ornament painting wizards, alpaca fiber geniuses, and of course your favorite rogue creative humans. That is us.

If you are wondering “Hey Rafi, where do I find you and Klee?” then keep reading, because we have the scoop.

Where You Can Find Us. Clifford’s Carpets (Southside)

Location 10 at 19 E 1st Street

This place transforms into one of the quirkiest, most unexpectedly perfect spots for artists to set up. We will be there with original art, jewelry, books, sculptures, prints, maybe a few wildcards, and generally being our usual creative, sleep deprived but happy selves.

And we remembered the calendars this time. Ok… technically we forgot to bring them on Saturday, but they are absolutely coming with us because I put a note on my phone, a note on my sketchbook, and a note taped to my face.

If you want to say hi, chat art, or watch me try not to spill coffee on anything, come hang out at location 10.

Map for Artists Sunday 2025 in Oil City, featuring event timings, locations, and activities on Southside and Northside.

What’s Happening Around Town. Northside!

Just hop across the Veterans Memorial Bridge and you will find a whole cluster of creative action.

National Transit Building

Handmade instruments, woodworking, encaustic painting, illustration, demos, textile art, book illustrations, wax melts, stickers, ceramics. It is basically an indoor labyrinth of artists and creative chaos.
You can also catch live medieval instruments and a Q and A with Daniel Yost and Pedro Sperb from 11 to 4.

Transit Arts Gallery and Gifts

Local and regional artists in all mediums. Think of it as a mini art marketplace with big gallery energy.

Woods and River Coffee (Northside)

Watercolor and mixed media paintings plus warm caffeinated beverages to keep your art hopping energy levels high.

The Exchange

Mixed media, collages, ornaments, stickers, digital work, and probably the best spot to people watch creative humans in the wild.

Downs Building

Edinboro art students, prints, potions, handcrafted goods, natural body care, oddities. A whole vibe.

Dlonak Barber Shop

Illustration plus vintage garage character.

Wye Bridge Hobbies

Crafty creations, shirts, tumblers, and children’s books.

A colorful flyer advertising local artists and creative events happening in Oil City, detailing various locations, activities, and participating artists for Artist Sunday.

Southside! This is where we will be hanging!

If you wander the Southside loop, you will encounter:

Woods and River Coffee (Southside)

More art plus the eternal promise of caffeine.

Core Goods

Ceramics, digital art, pins, stickers, jewelry, open mic readings, and handmade goods. A whole creative ecosystem.

Clifford’s Carpets

Home of Rafi and Klee for the day, plus other AMAZING creatives!

William’s Travel

Stained glass jewelry and unique finds.

Why Artist Sunday Matters

Artist Sunday is like a giant creative thank you note from the town. It celebrates the makers, musicians, dreamers, creators, and wonderfully weird humans who choose to spend their lives making things that add beauty to the world.

It is also a chance for you to:

  • Meet artists face to face
  • Support handmade work
  • Discover something you didn’t know you needed
  • Join in the community vibe
  • Wander around a walkable art map like you are on a side quest

And honestly, it is just a great way to spend a Sunday full of color, creativity, and connection.

Come Find Us

We will be at Clifford’s Carpets, location 10, from 11 AM to 4 PM with art, jewelry, books, calendars, and our usual creative chaos. If you are in the area, stop by, say hi, and hang out with us. We love seeing familiar faces, meeting new creative humans, and being part of the buzzing, artsy energy of this awesome town.

Same bat place, same bat channel.
See you on Artist Sunday.