Alright – so today we’ve got the honor of introducing you to Keana Dollar-Dickerson. We think you’ll enjoy our conversation, we’ve shared it below.
Keana, looking forward to hearing all of your stories today. Can you talk to us about a project that’s meant a lot to you?
The most meaningful project to date has to be the one I’m currently a part of—being one of six artists selected to showcase African/Black art in El Cerrito City Hall for Black History Month. This has never happened before, and knowing that we’re making history in California is a surreal feeling. As a visual artist from West Oakland, representation has always been important to me, and to see our culture, our stories, and our creativity displayed in a space that has never prioritized Black art before. That’s powerful! We’re breaking barriers, setting a precedent, and making sure our voices are seen and felt in places where they’ve been absent for too long.
Another deeply personal and meaningful project is becoming an author of a children’s book dedicated to my oldest son, who passed away from epilepsy at 19 while pursuing his dream of becoming a sports medicine doctor at San Jose State University. Losing him was devastating, but I knew I had to honor his memory in a way that extended beyond grief—I wanted to celebrate his wisdom, his ambition, and the impact he had on everyone around him. This book is my way of keeping his legacy alive, not just for myself but for my other two children as well—my youngest son, now in college at Texas Southern University studying Computer Engineering, and my 10-year-old daughter, who dreams of becoming a dancer and a nurse. My oldest son was a beacon in our community, and epilepsy took him from us too soon. I didn’t want his story to end there. Through this book, I hope to shed light on his journey and give back to the community in a way that sparks conversations, healing, and awareness.
Both of these projects mean everything to me because they’re about legacy, representation, and storytelling. They’re about making sure our culture, our struggles, and our triumphs are not just acknowledged but celebrated.
Keana, love having you share your insights with us. Before we ask you more questions, maybe you can take a moment to introduce yourself to our readers who might have missed our earlier conversations?
I grew up in West Oakland, CA, in a neighborhood that was both crime-stricken and deeply rich in culture, love, and resilience. That environment shaped me—not just as a person, but as an artist. Art was always in me, even before I knew what form it would take. In my earlier years, I started out designing clothing and even made it into a magazine called Culture. But over time, my creative passion shifted.
My journey into visual art really took off after attending my first Paint & Sip event. I had always been into illustration, drawing with pencils, creating detailed designs, but something about putting paint on canvas unlocked a whole new world for me. That moment was euphoric. It wasn’t just about creating an image—it was about expressing everything I felt, everything I had been through, in a way that words couldn’t capture. That’s when the art bug hit hard, and I never looked back.
Today, I create contemporary abstract African art with elements of graffiti, deeply influenced by my cultural roots and my experiences growing up in Oakland. My work isn’t just about aesthetics—it’s about storytelling, shifting narratives, and reclaiming space for Black expression in a world that often tries to box us in. Beyond painting, I also offer art and candle-making workshops through my company, Pursuit of Peace Painting LLC, where I use art as a tool for healing and self-discovery. Whether it’s community-centered events, corporate team-building, or therapeutic creative sessions, I aim to provide experiences that allow people to connect with their own artistic voices.
What sets me apart is the depth of purpose behind my work. My art isn’t just about what’s on the canvas—it’s about who it represents and why it matters. I’m proud to be making history as one of the first Black artists to showcase work in El Cerrito City Hall for Black History Month. I’m also proud of the legacy I’m building through my upcoming children’s book, dedicated to my oldest son, who passed away from epilepsy at 19 while pursuing his dream of becoming a sports medicine doctor. His story, his brilliance, and his legacy live on in everything I create.
At the heart of it all, I want people to know that my art is about more than just visuals—it’s about representation, healing, and cultural empowerment. Whether you’re experiencing my work in a gallery, at a workshop, or through a book, I want it to make you feel something, to spark conversation, and to remind you that our stories deserve to be told.
How can we best help foster a strong, supportive environment for artists and creatives?
The best way society can support artists is simple—buy our art, share our art, repost our art, and talk about our work in rooms we may not have access to. Visibility and financial support are everything in the creative world. Too often, artists—especially Black artists—are expected to create for exposure rather than compensation. But exposure doesn’t pay studio rent, buy supplies, or keep the lights on. If you believe in an artist’s work, invest in it.
Beyond purchasing, help artists gain access to opportunities. That means nominating us for grants, scholarships, and residencies. It means advocating for more funding for the arts in schools and community spaces. It means ensuring that city programs, businesses, and galleries are inclusive of local and emerging artists, not just established names.
Another key factor is making art part of everyday life. Attend local shows, commission pieces, support independent creatives instead of mass-produced decor. Art shouldn’t be an afterthought—it should be valued as a cultural and economic force that helps shape society.
And most importantly, respect the work. Artists pour their souls into what they create. A thriving creative ecosystem exists when artists are treated as professionals, not hobbyists. When people recognize that art is work, that creativity is labor, and that investing in artists means investing in culture, we all win.
We’d love to hear your thoughts on NFTs. (Note: this is for education/entertainment purposes only, readers should not construe this as advice)
Honestly, I don’t know a lot about NFTs, but from what I do understand, they shift the way we engage with art—and not always in a way that aligns with how I personally experience or create. Art, to me, is about connection. It’s about standing in front of a piece, feeling its presence, seeing the textures, and experiencing it in a way that goes beyond a screen. With NFTs, that physical and emotional interaction is removed, and that takes away a huge part of what makes art powerful.
That being said, I do see how NFTs can open doors for digital artists and create new revenue streams. It’s a different kind of accessibility, allowing artists to sell and protect their work in a way that wasn’t possible before. But for me, art is meant to be felt—whether it’s through the brushstrokes on canvas, the layers of mixed media, or even the atmosphere of a gallery space. That tangible, human connection? You just can’t replicate that in the digital world.
Contact Info:
- Instagram: @k.dollardickerson
Image Credits
Keana Dollar-Dickerson