We recently connected with Dan Kazan and have shared our conversation below.

Dan , thanks for joining us, excited to have you contributing your stories and insights. Can you open up about a risk you’ve taken – what it was like taking that risk, why you took the risk and how it turned out?

The biggest risk I ever took wasn’t one decision—it was a series of leaps into the unknown, a refusal to walk the well-worn paths laid out before me. It was the risk of living unapologetically as myself, of embracing the beautiful chaos of uncertainty and letting it sculpt me into the artist I’ve become.

It began with a quiet rebellion, a spark igniting my biggest risk: breaking away from my family’s expectations. They had dreams of white coats and stethoscopes for me—a life of structure, stability, and respectability. But I couldn’t see myself in that picture. It wasn’t a life; it felt as sterile as an examination room. School felt like a vacuum, draining the color from my spirit. The thought of switching to art briefly crossed my mind, but the art students I met—pretentious and painfully egotistical—left a bad taste in my mouth. No offense in advance to all art students, but I just ran into plenty who were so full of it. So, I stayed silent, biding my time, and when the moment came, I chose escape over conformity.

I packed my bags and left the U.S. with no plan, no map—just a fire in my chest and the hope that I’d find something real. My second biggest risk was trusting the journey, no matter where it led. My twenties became a blur of motion, a kaleidoscope of countries and odd jobs, each experience adding a new color to my palette. Somewhere along the way, I picked up an iPad and began drawing with my finger. I didn’t even know styluses existed then. It was primitive, almost childlike, but it reminded me that art doesn’t wait for perfection. It grows in the cracks, thrives in the mess. I’ve always admired the old-school artists who saw life as an endless journey—traveling far and wide to explore not just new places, but also the depths of their own inner worlds.

The first time I showed my work, it wasn’t in some sterile gallery with white walls and hushed voices. My gallery was alive: music thumping, drinks flowing, friends laughing, and my art hanging in the middle of it all. It wasn’t polished, but it was honest. And people loved it. I sold pieces that night, and for the first time, I thought, This is it. This is what I’m meant to do.

Life carried me to Sydney, a city that shimmered like a dream but demanded grit to survive. I worked in the sailing industry by day, sketching on my iPad between shifts with coffee and music as my companions. It was during one of those moments that Sydney RAW Artists found me, and suddenly, I was standing on stage at one of their events. My speech was simple, unpolished, but real: “I’m just a guy who likes to doodle. Thanks for coming.” That raw honesty became my signature.

Letting love pull me into uncharted waters is another risk in itself. Love took me to New Zealand, where I painted my first surfboard. That surfboard wasn’t just a piece of art; it was a revelation. Why trap creativity on a canvas when it could ride waves, touch sunlight, and breathe in salt air? From there, my art transformed, flowing onto surfboards in Bali, each one telling a story through vibrant strokes of acrylic.

It was love again that nudged me toward tattooing. A tattoo artist I was dating saw something in me, something even I hadn’t noticed yet. She challenged me to try it. Tattooing felt like alchemy—turning skin into story, pain into permanence. I was already a big tattoo collector myself, so this naturally seemed fitting. Under instruction, I began tattooing in the cold winter from my partner. It was not an easy journey and was quite frightening at first, but I eventually got the hang of it. When we moved to Germany, I refined my craft, teaching myself mostly and pursuing it with confidence because that’s how I’ve always done it. I don’t believe in waiting for permission to create.

Tattooing became my bridge to people. 15 countries later, my travels had taught me how to adapt, how to understand someone’s story no matter where they came from. That ability to connect, to be a social chameleon, is my secret weapon. Whether it’s a tattoo, a painting, or a surfboard, my work is a conversation—a dance between their story and mine.

But let me be honest: it wasn’t always art for art’s sake. For years, I took jobs that didn’t reflect my style because I had bills to pay. I made trendy designs for clients who didn’t want my truth, just my skill. It crushed me to compromise, but I knew it was temporary. My obsession with perfection—a blessing and a curse—kept me moving forward. I wasn’t chasing approval; I was chasing mastery.

Now, I’ve left compromise behind. I’m in South Africa, working alongside one of my best mates who is involved in visual content creation, creating pieces that are unapologetically mine. Every surfboard, tattoo, and painting carries my fingerprints, my story, my rebellion. No gallery represents me—I’m not opposed to it to this day, but if I need to create an environment to display my paintings or surfboards, I love a more natural setting like a cafe or a nightclub. Hell, try some luxury Airbnbs to show the world what it really looks like to a buyer. Places where the art actually comes alive, not preserved in some white-walled prison. No offense to galleries, but my art is a reflection of my life, my love, my internal struggles, and expressions of joy. It is very fitting to be in a place where people live their lives as well, and have a glimpse of mine in the truest, most organic sense. It’s been a great success so far, and I am enjoying the positive momentum.

Looking back, every risk I took—leaving school, following love, reinventing myself—was worth it. Each twist and turn added depth to my work, layers to my perspective. I’ve lived a hundred lives in one, and every single one of them has shaped the artist I am today. It’s mostly allowed me to educate myself on different styles and art history and attempt different techniques and subjects. But at the end of the day, it has reminded me that something within myself that was stifled by insecurity was the most important form of art I needed to be concerned with.

My art is for people who see the world in full color, who aren’t afraid of the rough edges and the raw truths. I don’t wait for opportunities to knock; I build the door and kick it open. This isn’t a career—it’s a fight to live authentically, to create something real and lasting.

If you’re looking for a safe road, you won’t find it here. But if you’re ready to take the leap, to embrace the chaos, then maybe—just maybe—you’ll find something extraordinary. As one of my best friends once told me, “Everyone is zigging, and you are zagging.” The best compliment an artist can receive. Being an artist is about taking risks all the time. Get used it and make that your superpower.

Dan , 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 most proud of my friends and family—their constant encouragement and belief in me have been invaluable to my journey. Whether it’s the canvases I paint, the surfboards I design, or the unique tattoos I pour my heart into, they’re always there to push me forward and remind me to keep going.

Being an artist isn’t easy. You become your harshest critic, a perfectionist to the point of paralysis. And with the endless scroll of what everyone else is doing, it’s easy to feel like your work, your expression, is just noise. But that’s all bullshit. Don’t buy into it. Don’t let the negativity win. Learn to protect your energy and focus on your own path. Stay in your damn lane—that’s my mantra.

My work is meant to provoke, inspire, captivate, or energize. It’s not for the average collector. Right now, I’m especially fired up about my surfboard project—it’s my way of showcasing that surfing is sexy. It’s a cultural statement. Surfing has always been a lifestyle I’ve loved, and it’s magnetic for so many because it combines so much: meditation, physicality, danger, and pure fun. It’s a sport that teaches respect—respect for nature, for others, and for yourself. The dance with the waves is unmatched, a feeling like no other.

The culture behind surfing—the style, the vibe, the community—is equally compelling. I love it all. To contribute to this world in a meaningful way is one of my biggest aspirations. It’s not just about creating; it’s about honoring a culture that’s as exhilarating as it is beautiful.

Is there something you think non-creatives will struggle to understand about your journey as a creative? Maybe you can provide some insight – you never know who might benefit from the enlightenment.

They might not understand the internal drive within me to experience life the way I choose. I know what they say: “You’re unstable,” “Why don’t you settle down?” “When will you just choose one thing?” It’s never that simple when you have a creative mind and a brave soul. I’ve struggled with these questions myself, but I am reminded by those who truly love and accept me for who I am to keep going. Life is too short to be constrained by others’ expectations. Sometimes, your soul craves a different way of experiencing life, and that feeds directly into my art. My art isn’t just something that looks nice—it’s a lifestyle.

Are there any resources you wish you knew about earlier in your creative journey?

Community is everything. It’s easy to isolate yourself and believe you can do it all alone, but the truth is, you need people from different disciplines to help you achieve the bigger picture. You don’t have to know how to do everything; what’s important is having the ability to collaborate and seek out those who are dedicated to their craft. Sometimes, just focusing on your own lane is enough. Don’t overwork yourself trying to know it all.

Contact Info:

• Website: www.dankazan.com
• Instagram: dan.kazan
• Other: 2025 has several projects in motion and that is a proper website construction which is underway as well as a youtube channel and podcast.

Image Credits

None.