We’re excited to introduce you to the always interesting and insightful Ian Strong. We hope you’ll enjoy our conversation with Ian below.
Ian, appreciate you joining us today. I’m sure there have been days where the challenges of being an artist or creative force you to think about what it would be like to just have a regular job. When’s the last time you felt that way? Did you have any insights from the experience?
I’ve always struggled in “regular” job settings. Growing up, I had a few false starts at places like Safeway and Costco, and the structure of those environments felt suffocating. My brain just isn’t wired to thrive in that kind of system.
When the COVID lock-down began, I took advantage of being forced inside and committed myself to building my skills as an artist. Before seriously pursuing art, the jobs I enjoyed most were coaching athletics, especially lacrosse. I’ve always loved sports. As a kid, when asked what I wanted to be, I never hesitated to say “professional athlete.” I wanted my life to revolve around competition and the energy of the game.
Over time, I fell out of love with lacrosse and stepped away from coaching. That shift pushed me deeper into baseball fandom. The problem was that I didn’t feel anchored to it. I was just a passionate fan on the outside looking in. Becoming an artist felt like my way into the sport I love. It gave me a reason to be part of it rather than just watching from afar.
Lately, though, I’ve found myself questioning that path. The last time the thought hit me was while I was updating my resume late at night, looking at listings for more stable work. I’d been working on trading cards and promotional material, but only sporadically, whenever opportunities appeared. I felt the weight of inconsistent pay and the uncertainty of what comes next. There’s a certain appeal to predictable income and structure.
But every time I get close to applying for something “regular,” there’s a nagging feeling that I’d be walking away from what I truly want. Even if it means living minimally and sacrificing comfort, I can’t shake the belief that I’m meant to build a life inside the game of baseball at the highest level.
I don’t know if that makes me happier in a conventional sense. It’s harder. It’s uncertain. But it feels honest. And right now, that matters more than comfort.
Ian, 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’m an artist who specializes in promotional material and keepsakes for baseball players, primarily at the major and minor league levels. My brand, Insomnia Customs, was born during sleepless nights after long days spent watching baseball. My mind would replay every inning, every at-bat, every detail. Creating artwork became a way to channel that obsession into something tangible. What started as restlessness turned into ritual.
Initially, I began creating pieces as a more meaningful way to collect autographs. But once I started receiving positive feedback from the players themselves, the work took on new weight. I realized I wasn’t just making collectibles. I was creating physical representations of their time, effort, and dedication to their craft.
The pieces I create allow players to hold something that reflects the hours they’ve put in, something beyond statistics or box scores. At the same time, these keepsakes give friends and family a tangible connection to the journey. Baseball seasons move fast. Careers move even faster. I create objects that help slow those moments down.
What sets my work apart is that I approach it as both an artist and a genuine fan of the game. I understand the emotional gravity behind even the smallest milestones. I pay attention to the details that matter because I care deeply about the sport and the people who play it. My goal is always to act as a bridge between the players and those who admire them, creating work that feels personal rather than generic.
More than anything, I want people to know that my work is rooted in authenticity. The work comes from obsession, admiration, and respect for the game. Every piece is created with the intention of honoring the process behind the performance.
For you, what’s the most rewarding aspect of being a creative?
There are two occurrences that make me feel the most fulfilled, specifically as a sports artist. The first is when I create a card that a player enjoys so much that they want more copies for friends, family, and fans. I try my best to see players for who they are and to be inspired by their personalities and interests to create pieces that fully represent their entire identity. Being contacted by a player for a bulk order is daunting because my process is hard to scale, but knowing the pieces will be enjoyed and cherished makes any effort or cost worth it.
The other instance that feels incredibly rewarding is when I get to send a card of a player to someone who has been a part of that player’s life and now wants a keepsake to celebrate how far they’ve come. Whether it’s a teacher, coach, aunt, or someone else connected to the player, I love knowing that my pieces will become meaningful objects for people moving forward.
Is there a particular goal or mission driving your creative journey?
Ultimately, my goal as a creative is for my day-to-day to revolve around watching, celebrating, and contributing to athletics, baseball in particular, though I’m open to other opportunities in sports as they arise. This isn’t just about being present in the game; it’s about creating work that honors the dedication, passion, and human stories behind every player and every moment on the field. I want my art to be a tangible reflection of the energy, effort, and emotion that goes into the sport, whether it’s through custom keepsakes for players or pieces that connect fans and loved ones to the game.
Contact Info:
- Instagram: @insomnia.customs
