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Tax Deductions Every Creative Needs to Know

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.

A woman and a blue puppet with orange hair happily pose together in a cozy room with warm lighting and musical instruments in the background.
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.
A person holding a sign advertising an art show, standing by a bridge in Oil City, Pennsylvania. The sign includes details about the event on August 5th, featuring Rafe D. Klee and graffiti gallery.

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.
A group of people gathered in a room for an event, with a man in the foreground smiling at the camera. Several others are seated at tables, some engaging with materials and taking notes.

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.

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Are We In A Battle With Boil Kitty Farts Council?

I had hoped not, but apparently, we are.

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.

A group of people engaged in conversation inside an art gallery, featuring several artworks displayed on black panels, with large windows letting in natural light.
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.

A diverse group of fifteen people smiling and posing together in a room with wooden accents and neutral walls.
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.

A group of four people engaged in conversation in an indoor setting, with a man wearing a red bandana and black attire gesturing while speaking.
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.

A group selfie featuring three people in front of an art exhibit displaying colorful paintings on the wall.
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.

A graphic artwork featuring the text 'Creatives don't need permission to be called an artist', with a split design of green and dark colors.
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.

A person's feet resting on a balcony railing with two red folding chairs in the background and a view of houses and greenery.

Tips for My Fellow Artists Who Might Be Dealing With Something Similar

  1. Don’t judge the whole Board: Most people are there to help. It’s usually just one or two bad actors poisoning the well.
  2. 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.
  3. The Truth is the defense: If an organization looks bad because you told the truth, there are issues that need addressing.
  4. Keep the receipts: Save every email. Documentation is the only cure for a rumor mill. I have all documentation and recordings of these interactions.
  5. 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.

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Artist’s Self-Diagnosis: Which Muse is Driving Your Bus?

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.

DOWNLOAD THE CHECKLIST HERE:

A person painting a blue figure on canvas in an art studio, wearing a red bandana and glasses.

The Prescription:

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:

  1. Stop being a production line. You aren’t here to churn out cheap art; you’re here to create fire.
  2. 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.
  3. 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!

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Selling Art Is Like Talking About Tacos

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.)

A woman smiling while posing with a colorful puppet, seated in a cozy room with guitars and decorative lights in the background.

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.

A simple illustrated sketch of a stick figure with arms raised in joy, looking at its reflection in a mirror, accompanied by the text 'Make someone smile every day... Start with yourself.'

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.

A man with a beard and bandana sits on a couch surrounded by various paintings. He holds two paintings featuring women with red hair and sunflowers, with additional artwork displayed on the couch and a larger piece behind him.

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.

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Bringing Bourbon Street to Seneca Street In Oil City… What?

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.

A vibrant Mardi Gras event poster featuring two dancers in colorful costumes and masks, announcing the crawl through Oil City on February 17, 2026, with participating venues and event details.

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.

Mardi Gras mask-making party invitation featuring colorful masks, feathers, and beads. Event details include date, time, and location.

We want to see Seneca Street filled with custom masks and smiling faces. This town has so much soul, and we can’t wait to see it on full display.

Let’s make some memories and maybe a little bit of a mess.

Stay creative, Rafi & Klee

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5 Surprising Lessons from 15 Years of Creative Chaos

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.

A person holding a colorful art piece featuring a character with a smile, yellow clothing, and a red umbrella, standing in puddles with a vibrant, playful background.

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.

A well-organized art studio featuring a variety of colorful paintings on easels, a computer with a monitor, and various art supplies scattered across wooden tables. The walls are decorated with signs and the space is illuminated with overhead lights.

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.

Three individuals posing for a selfie in front of framed artwork, with a cozy gallery setting in the background.

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.

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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!