Alright – so today we’ve got the honor of introducing you to Adam Crist. We think you’ll enjoy our conversation, we’ve shared it below.

Adam, looking forward to hearing all of your stories today. We’d love to hear the backstory behind a risk you’ve taken – whether big or small, walk us through what it was like and how it ultimately turned out.

By the summer of 2022, I found myself creating art again after having stepped away from it for many years. For the better part of a year before that, I’d been feeling this deep, restless longing—an ache to express myself creatively—but I just couldn’t bring myself to do it. I felt stuck. More than that, I felt not good enough. Every time I thought about painting, shame crept in. I told myself I’d lost whatever spark I once had, that I wasn’t talented enough, that it was too late.

Honestly, I was depressed and overwhelmed by life. I’d just entered my forties, and instead of feeling accomplished, I felt like I’d missed my chance at the life I wanted—the life of a full-time artist and entrepreneur. Somewhere along the way, I’d convinced myself that that dream was childish. I kept replaying this story in my head: “You can’t be an artist. You’re not creative or talented engough. You’ll only embarrass yourself.” It was suffocating.

Sometimes, I’d catch myself daydreaming about what my life could look like—me in a bright studio with big windows and art supplies everywhere, feeling alive creating all kinds of art. But then that inner critic would show up again, laughing at me, telling me how ridiculous I was for even imagining it. The cycle repeated every day until one afternoon I just couldn’t stand it anymore. I dug out an old canvas and a half-dried set of acrylics I hadn’t touched in years. I didn’t have a plan or a vision—I just started smearing and splattering paint everywhere. It felt messy and chaotic, but also freeing, like I was finally exhaling after holding my breath for years!

Still, the idea of sharing my art publicly terrified me. What if people laughed? What if they confirmed the voice in my head that said I wasn’t good enough? For weeks, I debated whether to post a photo of that painting online. But then I began recalling a recent conversation I had with someone where they suggested that the only way we grow is to take action on something. Even if we’re scared, we can be scared WHILE we take action. So I decided to just take the risk and share a painting on social media.

Suffice it to say, the world didn’t end. In fact, the opposite happened. People responded with kindness and encouragement. In that moment, I realized that taking the risk—stepping out from behind the fear—wasn’t just about showing my art. It was about reclaiming a part of myself I’d buried. Expressing myself and my creativity reconnected me with “little Adam”, the inner child who didn’t know was fear was and who always knew he was meant to be an artist.

Great, appreciate you sharing that with us. 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.

Art has always been a part of who I am. My first memory of being recognized as an artist came when I was ten years old, after winning first place in a community-wide Earth Day contest. My drawing showed the planet Earth tossed carelessly into the back of a trash truck with a banner that read “Don’t Trash Our Planet.”

Through my teenage years, I dove deeper into art, studying oil painting under a local artist and taking private drawing lessons. In the summer of 1997, I was accepted into an apprenticeship program at the Fabric Workshop and Museum in Philadelphia, where I learned silk screen printing and helped create large-scale textile installations. I carried that creative energy into college, studying drawing, ceramics, and photography with the dream of earning a Fine Arts degree.

I drifted away from art for about 20 years but then about three years ago, something shifted. I began exploring my creative side again and while searching for videos online about how to paint using natural materials, I stumbled upon the alternative photographic process known as cyanotype—an old technique from the 1800s that uses sunlight to create rich blue images. I fell in love instantly. There was something almost magical about it—the blend of science, nature, and creativity.

Most of my work now centers on nature and the sacred geometries and universal patterns that exist within it—the delicate veins of a leaf, the spiral of a seed pod, the perfect symmetry of a flower. My lifelong connection to nature began during childhood summers spent in the Adirondack Mountains, where I learned to see beauty in the small, intricate details most people overlook. Cyanotype gives me a way to capture those perfect designs and transform them into something lasting.

What sets my work apart is its intentional simplicity. Each piece begins as a slow, meditative process—selecting a plant, mixing the chemicals, arranging everything just so, and then letting sunlight do the rest. There’s an element of unpredictability that I love with the cyanotype process — the end results can be so surprising and captivating. Every print truly becomes one of a kind.

For me, creating art isn’t just about making something beautiful—it’s about connection; with myself and nature. Its about being present in a world full of distraction and its about encouraging people to slow down, to notice the patterns that already exist all around us, and to somehow memorialize the sense of awe that I experience from nature.

For you, what’s the most rewarding aspect of being a creative?

For me, the most rewarding part of being an artist is knowing that I had the passion and the courage to begin creating again — despite the fear that once held me back. For years, I allowed my inner critic to be the louder voice compared to my inner creative. Picking up my art again felt terrifying at first, like exposing a piece of myself I had kept hidden for too long.

But pushing through that fear has become the most meaningful part of my creative process. Each piece I make is a reminder that vulnerability can be a form of strength. There’s such freedom in expressing something honest — in watching an idea that once lived only in your mind take shape in front of you.

And when someone connects with my work, it feels like proof that the risk was worth it. When I get to share my excitement for art and nature with a complete stranger and I can see them get excited about it also — that’s what makes doubt and hesitation fade away. It’s not just about making art ; it’s about reclaiming my voice and expressing myself without apology.

In your view, what can society to do to best support artists, creatives and a thriving creative ecosystem?

Art and artists have been part of every culture and civilization since the beginning of time. Society should recognize that and hold space for this with the same level of importance as every other aspect of society. If we want a society that still feels alive, we have to support the people who keep its heart beating — the artists. Art isn’t just decoration; it’s how we make sense of the world. It reflects who we are, challenges what we believe, and reminds us that beauty and meaning still exist.
I believe that much like the symbiotic relationship between the flower and the honeybee, a healthy and successful society recognizes that everyone gains something essential from art and artists. We can only thrive if we provide for one another. The builder may construct the frame and the structure, but the artist fills it with color, emotion, and identity. Each needs the other — one to sustain the body of society, and one to nourish its spirit.

Contact Info:

• Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/adamcrist_art/
• Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=61550518952192