We were lucky to catch up with Nikki “Cricket” Rettman recently and have shared our conversation below.

Nikki “Cricket”, appreciate you joining us today. We’d love to hear about when you first realized that you wanted to pursue a creative path professionally.

If you ask my mom, she’ll tell you I knew I wanted to be an artist since I was six years old. Honestly, she’s not wrong. Creating has always been less of a hobby and more of a core personality trait — something I couldn’t turn off even if I tried.

But the moment that set everything in motion happened in middle school, at one of those “get your kids out of the house” summer library programs. The topic that day was henna. A woman gave a presentation on the history and cultural background of the art form, then passed around henna cones so we could try our own designs.

I was absolutely entranced.

The rich history spanning thousands of years. The chemistry of the paste itself. The way henna has been so deeply feminine and communal — the idea that I was connecting myself to women across cultures and centuries through this one simple plant. Something clicked into place that day that never clicked back out.

In high school, I had the opportunity to work as a henna artist at Sea World/Six Flags in Aurora, Ohio — several summers of essentially learning on the job, honing my application skills and expanding my design vocabulary across different styles.

Then in college, a little shop opened up near campus that sold henna supplies and featured henna artists on Saturdays to draw in customers. I went in one day to get henna for my birthday. While I was in the chair, the artist and I got to talking — and I learned that Saturday henna had gotten so popular they needed more artists. I didn’t hesitate for a second.

I ended up working there for several years as a henna artist, and briefly as Assistant Manager. The owner actively encouraged us to build our own clientele on the side. So when Google released their first drag-and-drop website builder, I built myself a truly terrible-looking website —

and the rest is history.

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.

My name is Nikki, and I’m the owner and artist behind The Artful Cricket Henna Studio & Gift Gallery in Cuyahoga Falls, Ohio. I’ve been working with natural henna for 25 years — but honestly, the story starts much earlier than that. My mom will tell you I knew I wanted to be an artist since I was six.

Henna found me in middle school, at a summer library program, and it never really let go. What captivated me wasn’t just the art itself — it was everything surrounding it. The history spanning thousands of years, the chemistry of the paste, the way henna has always been so deeply feminine and communal, connecting women across cultures and centuries through one simple plant. I was entranced from that first afternoon, and I’ve spent the last two and a half decades going deeper into the craft. I honed my basic skills working summers at Sea World/Six Flags in Aurora, continued growing as an artist at a henna-focused shop near my college campus, and eventually built my own business from the ground up — starting with a truly terrible-looking website and a whole lot of passion.

Today, The Artful Cricket is two things in one: a henna studio and a curated gift gallery. On the studio side, I offer custom, all-natural henna body art using chemical-free paste that I mix myself from pure henna powder, distilled water, sugar, and essential oils — nothing else. I offer individual sessions and henna parties, as well as collaborative Goddess Night events that incorporate several self-care services and provide a space for community and making new friends. I also teach, offering Henna 101 classes for curious beginners who want to understand the history, culture, and fundamentals of the art form. On the gallery side, I carry a carefully chosen collection of locally-made and fair trade artisanal accessories, décor, and plant-based skincare — things that feel intentional and beautiful, perfect for treating yourself or finding a truly unique gift.

What I think sets me apart is the experience as much as the art. I’ve designed my studio to be a space where people can exhale. The music is quietly funky. The furniture is comfortable. There’s no rushing, no assembly line, no cookie-cutter stencils. Every client sits down, we talk, and we create something that feels genuinely personal to them. Many of my clients tell me that the session itself — that hour of being still, being cared for, and watching something beautiful come to life on their skin — is just as meaningful as the finished design. That’s not an accident. That’s the whole point.

The problem I solve, at its core, is this: so many women are incredible at showing up for everyone else, and genuinely terrible at showing up for themselves. They’re craving something that feels special and restorative, but they need it to be accessible, not a grand production. A henna session at The Artful Cricket is that thing. It’s self-care that doesn’t require a spa budget or a full day off. It’s beautiful, it’s temporary, and it gives you a little rush of joy every single time you catch a glimpse of it.

What am I most proud of? The trust. Women come through my door with their stories, their milestones, their grief, their celebrations — and they trust me to mark those moments on their skin with care and intention. After 25 years, that still moves me. I don’t take it lightly. And I think that’s ultimately what I most want people to know about The Artful Cricket: this isn’t a transaction. It’s an experience. You leave a little more yourself than when you walked in.

What’s the most rewarding aspect of being a creative in your experience?

Without question, it’s the people.

Henna is an unusually intimate art form. My clients aren’t hanging something on a wall or setting something on a shelf — they’re wearing my work on their bodies, often for some of the most meaningful moments of their lives. Birthdays. Weddings. Losses. Milestones. Sometimes just a Wednesday when they needed to feel like themselves again. That kind of trust creates a quality of connection that I don’t think many artists get to experience, and I am genuinely grateful for it every single day.

What surprises people, I think, is how much happens in the chair. When someone sits down and goes still — really still, phones down, nowhere to be for the next hour — something opens up. Conversations go deeper than small talk almost immediately. I’ve heard things in my studio that people don’t say out loud very often. I’ve held space for women navigating grief, celebrating hard-won victories, processing big life changes. The henna almost becomes secondary to the simple act of one woman sitting with another and saying, I have time for you. You’re worth this.

There are clients I’ve been seeing for years — women who started coming in for a birthday treat and now show up at every season of their lives. Watching those relationships grow over time, becoming part of someone’s story in that way, is something I never could have anticipated when I picked up a henna cone for the first time. It’s the part of this work that no one talks about when they talk about being an artist, and it’s the part I treasure most.

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

Two words: active support. And I want to be clear that active support doesn’t only mean spending money — though that matters too.

In a world driven by algorithms and digital visibility, one of the most powerful things you can do for an artist you believe in is simply to show up for them online. Share their post. Tag a friend who would love their work. Leave a comment that’s more than an emoji. These actions cost nothing but a few seconds of your time, but they are valuable currency in the digital marketplace — they expand an artist’s reach far beyond what she could achieve on her own, and they send a signal to the algorithm that this work is worth paying attention to.

But there’s something even more important than the mechanics of it. When you share an artist’s work, you’re telling your community: this person matters. This work has value. That ripples outward in ways that are hard to measure but impossible to overstate. It inspires others to do the same. It builds a culture where creativity is celebrated rather than treated as a luxury or an afterthought.

Support the artists in your life loudly and often — online, in conversation, and yes, with your wallet when you can. A thriving creative ecosystem doesn’t sustain itself. It’s built by communities of people who choose to show up for the people making beautiful things.

Contact Info:

• Website: https://www.theartfulcricket.com
• Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/artfulcrickethenna/
• Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/ArtfulCricketHenna
• Linkedin: https://www.linkedin.com/in/nikki-rettman-9292b040/

Image Credits

DSC_0028_E _Edit, DSC_0033_E _Edit, DSC_0056_E _Edit, DSC_0059_E _ Edit, DSC_0075_E _Edit taken by Kay Phelps