We caught up with the brilliant and insightful Max Sharam a few weeks ago and have shared our conversation below.

Max, looking forward to hearing all of your stories today. Have you been able to earn a full-time living from your creative work? If so, can you walk us through your journey and how you made it happen? Was it like that from day one? If not, what were some of the major steps and milestones and do you think you could have sped up the process somehow knowing what you know now?

As a Gen Xer, I was raised to be independent, armed with the wisdom to figure things out on my own. Thrown out of the nest young (well, actually, I flew the coop early in pursuit of the arts), unlike certain generations who got participation trophies for existing, I was handed a toolbox (somewhat literally) and an unspoken rule: If you want it done right, do it yourself. So, naturally, when it came to building a life in the arts—especially coming from a rural corner of remote Australia—there was no pre-paved path, no influencer course, no passive income hacks. It was just me, my wits, and an unshakable belief in my talent. And, above all, a refusal to spend my life working for ‘the man.’

Was it a smooth ride? Mostly, yes. The early years were a thrilling mix of artistic adventures and survival — flying by the seat of my pants and, at one point, even sleeping under bridges (yes, really, while living in Europe with a German aristocrat who was on the run from military training). We embraced the Bohemian life. He a gifted painter and me singing on the streets, which really honed my craft. I had to learn how not to be exploited — because talent is a commodity, and if you don’t know its value, someone else will set the price.

The real turning point? The moment I stopped listening to men! LOL. Or waiting for permission from gatekeepers. I realized that if I wanted to ‘make a difference,’ I had to trust my instincts and take matters into my own hands. Instead of letting the ‘suits’ and parasitic middlemen determine my fate, I began relying on my own intuition. I leveraged my mind to learn computer programs, market myself, negotiate contracts, and yes, even file my own taxes. By trusting myself, I carved out a path that was uniquely mine — no longer waiting for anyone’s approval or validation.

Could I have sped up the process? Maybe, if I’d had better role models (I was one of the first women fighting to be heard on radio) or if time travel were an option. Fewer detours might have helped, but where’s the fun in that? Every misstep, every missed connection, every odd gig—learning new skills on the fly, and every ‘Sure, I can do that’—was part of the journey. And yes, every time-wasting bad boyfriend or lover helped shape the lyrics of my songs and the career I have today.

Before we ask you to share more of your insights, can you take a moment to introduce yourself and how you got to where you are today to our readers.

I was born to be a performer—something in my physiology or chemistry (hello, ADHD!). But my desire for a recording career? That was born out of necessity. I was frustrated by the lack of women on the radio, the lack of control women had over their own creative process, and the industry’s insistence on shaping female artists to fit its mold. Rather than fighting for a seat at a table built for someone else, I built my own.

I work across music, performance, and storytelling, creating work that’s edgy, unconventional, and impossible to ignore. Whether it’s an offbeat theatrical concert, a satirical essay, or a voice that can both shake walls and slip through keyholes, I bring something singular to the table. I don’t just entertain; I provoke, I reframe, I make people feel something real—and, hopefully, I spark positive change.

What sets me apart? I’m a take-it-or-leave-it kind of person—the kind who doesn’t knock on doors but instead builds doors, something so undeniable that people come knocking on mine. Instead of chasing record labels or asking for permission, I set up my own shows and let word of mouth do what it does best. And my shows? Always sold out. Call it strategy, call it arrogance—really, it’s just confidence in my own abilities and pure love for what I do. I don’t dilute my work to fit someone else’s expectations. I trust that the right audience will find me—because they always do.

My work exists at the intersection of raw talent, meticulous precision, and an unwillingness to (completely) compromise. And the thing I’m most proud of? That I built the life I wanted on my own terms. No shortcuts, no waiting around—just a steadfast refusal to be anything other than exactly who I am. If you don’t get me, it’s more about your limitations, not mine.

What do you think is the goal or mission that drives your creative journey?
The reason I moved to the U.S. was ultimately for the stage. Everything else—every decision, every detour—has been in service of that. I’m taking my time (and yes, I’ve wasted plenty of it!), but I’ve also been strategic about sustainability. Pursuing a creative career isn’t just about talent or drive—it’s about making sure you can actually keep going when the going gets tough.

The method behind my madness was simple: secure affordable housing first, so I wouldn’t need to take on a day job that sucked my blood. That kind of stability doesn’t just fall into your lap, especially in Manhattan. Anyone who lives here knows how brutal the housing crisis is—finding a place to live is one thing, but finding one you can actually afford is another. And for me, living alone was non-negotiable. I don’t do roommates. That’s just how I roll.
So, while I may have taken the scenic route, I’ve been laying the groundwork to ensure I can focus on what I actually came here to do: write, create, perform—live an authentic life.

Let’s talk about resilience next – do you have a story you can share with us?

In 2021, I left my beautiful, rent-stabilized Soho apartment for two weeks during Covid, entrusting it to a young artist I barely knew—Amanda Hurn (yes, she deserves to be shamed). I generously offered her a place to stay in exchange for watering my plants. Upon my return, I discovered that not only had Amanda let my plants die, but she had also allowed her boyfriend, Brad Chetcuti, a petty criminal, to change the locks. Both Amanda and Brad, grifters taking advantage of my absence, locked me out of my own home. With the pandemic’s moratorium in place, I had no legal recourse. Homeless and running out of options, I resorted to pet-sitting and couch-surfing while teaching myself the law and representing myself in court.

After a year of legal challenges and persistence, I won the case, and the criminals were ordered to vacate. But they left with everything—stealing my antiques, equipment, and an entire wardrobe of collectibles and designer clothing. The apartment was left uninhabitable. It took me three months to remove the stench. Despite the shocking violation and devastation, I ultimately reclaimed what was rightfully mine—my home. Friends urged me to give up, to move on, but I wasn’t about to let these thieves take my home of twenty years and get off scot-free.

I’ve come a long way from that young artist with a guitar slung over her shoulder. The journey hasn’t always been easy, but it’s been true to who I am—built on resilience and a commitment to my values. Every setback, every detour, and every challenge has strengthened my resolve to stay authentic, never compromising on what I believe in. As I continue to create, perform, and push boundaries, I know this: the road may not always be smooth, but as long as you stay aligned with your principles, the journey is always worth it. So here I am, still fighting for the underdog, still creating work that speaks to my truth—and ready to face whatever comes next with the same unwavering dedication that’s carried me this far.

Looking back, it’s clear the world has been slow to catch up. When I began, opportunities for women, queer people, and underrepresented voices were rare. We were often invisible, fighting for a space we weren’t allowed to occupy. The struggle was never in vain. Now, I see a world where the voices that were once silenced are finally being heard, and the arts have shifted toward a more balanced and inclusive future. It’s been a long, hard road, but the progress is undeniable—and I take pride in knowing I contributed to that change.

Contact Info:

• Website: https://www.maxsharam.com
• Instagram: ms.maxsharam
• Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/MaxSharam
• Linkedin: https://www.linkedin.com/in/maxsharam/
• Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/@MaxSharamMusic
• Other: https://music.apple.com/us/artist/max-sharam/43940702

Image Credits

Erin McCuskey
Max Sharam (Peace Hat) photo by Nadia Moth
Max and the LION ©MaxSharam