We recently connected with Benji Alexander Palus and have shared our conversation below.
Benji Alexander, looking forward to hearing all of your stories today. Are you happier as a creative? Do you sometimes think about what it would be like to just have a regular job? Can you talk to us about how you think through these emotions?
This is a tricky question, mostly because being happy is not the goal; creating is. Artists struggle. It would certainly be easier to give up on the creative side for a regular paycheck. Financial stress can wear you down like little else. It’s difficult to constantly turn down invitations from friends because you can’t afford a night out, to deny yourself so many of life’s little pleasures, to have to decide if that follow up appointment with your doctor is worth skipping a few meals. Most of all, it’s incredibly stressful to push through a financial slump not knowing when it will end. But, as an artist, the currency that I value above all else is time, not money. I need time to create, and I’m willing to sacrifice all but a bare subsistence to get it.
The last time I was offered a management position with a salary, I couldn’t help but think about how many of my problems would disappear if I could just count on that steady paycheck, but I could never accept a full time position like that. It would be the death knell of my dreams. I decided long ago that I would rather die in poverty, having failed to ever achieve a comfortable living through art, than to give up trying.
I was recently in a group show at a high end gallery. I had just suffered an injury that kept me out of the studio for weeks and left me reeling from medical bills. I absolutely needed something to sell, but nothing did. Times like that can crush you. Honestly, my confidence was shattered. I was left with a feeling of hopelessness and couldn’t see a path forward.
And you know what? It didn’t matter. It didn’t change a thing. Failure doesn’t matter. Trying matters. Painting something beautiful matters. Capturing that perfect shot with my camera matters. What really doesn’t matter to me? Happiness. Feeling deeply is what’s important. Even if what I feel is pain, I want to feel it overwhelmingly. I need to surrender to emotion, to weep with it, be it with joy or despair. The act of creating opens me up to all of it. It leaves me defenseless.
To give that up for comfort and constancy? Never.


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.
When I was twenty-six, I first walked into a gallery with my portfolio and sat down with the director, who happened to have some time to talk with me. My work was all over the place! All different styles, subjects, mediums, etc. The gallery director was very blunt. He kindly explained that although the work was nice, it was not cohesive in any way, and that I needed to rein it in and decide on an artistic identity if I was serious about becoming a professional artist. Another young artist friend of mine was furious that “the man” was trying to dictate my creative process, ha ha, but I didn’t see it that way. He simply told me the truth about the business side of art. It didn’t take me long to realize that he was basically giving me permission to stop wasting my time trying to do everything and just focus on what moved me most. That was a huge turning point for me. That was in the year 1999, and I’ve been a figurative realism painter ever since.
What moves me is the exploration of the depths of feminine beauty. But not in a broad sense – I choose my muses with great care, or perhaps a better way to say it is that they come into my life with great rarity. This is because I don’t work with strangers. Once in a while I meet someone and we become friends, and sometimes we discover a connection that I can explore on the canvas. It’s actually taken me decades to even understand what sparks that connection, or what it is that I see that inspires me so much. Strength, yes, but also vulnerability. There’s a certain openness to some people; they can’t pretend to be anything but what they are. Yet even that doesn’t really say it, because “what they are” is something so special and unique in the women that I paint and photograph. They are kind, courageous, intelligent, beautiful, but that special thing is resilience. That’s the spark that has taken me so long to recognize: overcoming great pain, fear, and loss. It’s the sadness behind the smile that my subconscious self reacts to. It’s not a common thing to have suffered greatly with one’s light undimmed.
This extraordinary quality draws me. It makes a human being’s journey worth knowing and sharing. It is this even more than my own hand that paints everything they do and feel and hope and dream with exquisite inner beauty, even when they stumble and fail. A year ago, the director of a gallery that was showing my work told me that an admirer asked the question, “How does he make such mundane moments so profound and beautiful?” Perhaps if she ever reads this interview, she’ll find her answer.


Can you share a story from your journey that illustrates your resilience?
In 2012, I was accepted to the International Guild of Realism (IGOR). The following year I had a piece accepted to their Annual National Exhibition in Carmel, California. It was my first big international show. I made the trip from my home in New Orleans to attend the opening reception. I was so nervous and excited! It was an amazing experience. I met so many living legends and personal art heroes, and found them warm and generous and receptive, and surprisingly funny, lol! One of the highlights was meeting the legendary Duffy Sheridan, a founder of the Guild (and as of today, the most awarded artist in the history of the internationally prestigious ARC Salon). I thought at the time that my career was made.
It wasn’t, of course.
Over the next nine years, I did have success with other shows and galleries, but every single one of my submissions to IGOR’s Annual Exhibitions was rejected. I submitted every year, and was rejected every year. Then in 2023, I opened the email notification expecting another rejection, and found that I had made it into that year’s show, which was held in Santa Fe, New Mexico. I attended the opening reception and the events surrounding it, reconnecting with some of my heroes and making many new friends, but this time it was different. I was no longer the naive novice. I felt that I was among my peers. It was an even more amazing experience than the first one. I finally felt that I had earned my place there.
But the best moment – even though it had been ten years and I had been just one new face out of dozens of the artists that had been at the opening in Carmel, when I saw Duffy Sheridan again, his eyes lit up with recognition and he called me by name as he walked straight to me with a warm hug to say hello. We spoke as equals rather than as mentor and novice, and it’s a memory that I will always treasure. (Side note: we are NOT equals, lol! I can only dream of someday reaching his level of artistic ability.)


What do you find most rewarding about being a creative?
Connection is the most rewarding aspect of my artistic journey. The connections with my muses are a huge part of my life. Those friendships are sacred to me, safe places without judgment on either side. The willingness to share with each other so openly is such a gift. To be so trusted with emotional intimacy is an honor and a privilege, as well as the chance to reciprocate it. The photo shoots that produce the references that I paint from are such a close collaboration of gifts and personalities and creativity that I still feel my friends with me in the studio as I endeavor to do them justice with my paint and brush. It’s a beautiful thing when two people can make each other feel seen, and special.
But it’s also about the connection with the viewer of my work. When someone feels close to something that little old me created with my own two hands – that’s remarkable to me. When they feel the things that I felt, when they experience what makes even the simplest moments that I paint profound to me, or even when they feel something unintended by me but they feel it deeply all the same, as it is filtered through their own lives and experiences – what a gift that such a possibility exists!
Contact Info:
- Website: https://www.benjialexanderpalus.com
- Instagram: www.instagram.com/benji.a.palus.art, www.instagram.com/benji.a.palus.photography
- Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/BenjiAlexanderPalus
- Linkedin: https://www.linkedin.com/in/benji-palus-13863382


Image Credits
Sam Spahr, Jason Kruppa

