We’re excited to introduce you to the always interesting and insightful David Braly. We hope you’ll enjoy our conversation with David below.

David, thanks for taking the time to share your stories with us today One of our favorite things to hear about is stories around the nicest thing someone has done for someone else – what’s the nicest thing someone has ever done for you?

The decade of my twenties has pretty much been the overture for the work  and interests I’ve had since. At 22 I was graduated from Auburn University  in architecture, at 25, or so, I became a registered architect, and at 26 took  leave of practicing architecture to teach. It was during the summer, after my  first year of teaching that I decided to try watercoloring–it was nothing too  serious, and all self-taught. One hot summer day, I was painting on the  kitchen table in my unairconditioned apartment when one of my dearest  college friends, Bobby McAlpine, who had a budding architectural practice,  came to visit. He saw what I was working on, and we talked about it for a  while. Then, out of the blue he said, “If you will do 15-20 of these, I’ll give  you a show in my office this fall.” And, that was that. Each following decade  of my life has been a unique act, distinct from the others, and I’ve painted  through all of them.

David, before we move on to more of these sorts of questions, can you take some time to bring our readers up to speed on you and what you do?

I’m something of a mongrel. Aside from being a cook, traveler, and  interested in history (pleasures shared by many creative people) I’m an  architect/painter/renderer/draftsman (in every sense). In addition to a very  full life spent working for an architectural firm, I make drawings, easel  paintings and murals for clients–some who are clients of the firm I work for,  most who somehow have heard of me or seen my work. One thing I am  not–which may disqualify me from this interview–is a business person, but  more about that later. 

I’ve always enjoyed drawing–as much for the experience as for the  outcome, and I suppose it is the root expression of my creative work.  Drawing is tool of exploration and decision-making, of refinement and  guidance, and it has been the gateway craft that has led me to a life of  architectural and painterly practice and teaching.

I started out wanting to be an architect and somewhere along the way,  realized that pursuit also prepared me for other things; painting for one,  conceptual thinking for another, a love of history, and visual problem  solving, too. After college, I had a brief stint in architectural practice. A  longer period was spent teaching architecture and design, and for an equal  period of time, I painted for a living. Ten years ago, I returned to practice,  where I’ve been able to bring all those past lives to service in my work at  McAlpine Tankersley Architecture. 

Those past lives have not been mere stages of existence, where I got  bored with one, and went on to the next. Rather, one stage was the catalyst  for the next; a building block that enabled me to evolve in the structure of  life. None of this seems to have been planned–at least not by me–but I do  think one thing naturally led to the other, and all are by now,  interdependent. 

I don’t know if there’s anything that sets me apart from other artists or  architects, except for the fact I’m not a particularly great artist or architect— to be such, often requires a focus on one or the other. But, it is in the  blending of those fields and in the blurring of professional parameters were  a new direction is made clear, and I think that is what I do best; I am an  architectural artist, and an artist of architecture. My paintings and murals  often begin with a dominant theme. That dominance is a as vital and subtle  as a heartbeat as layers of other information are applied to the initial  concept. The smallest commission I have done is 5″ square; the largest a  pair of murals, each measuring 12′ high and 28′ wide, and I tried to bring  the same set of experiences to both. Sometimes a painting is something to  look at, and sometimes it is something to be in. There is an intimacy in  grandeur, born of curiosity; a small space is never more intriguing or  welcoming than when it has an out-of-scale painting or mural in it. 

As mentioned earlier, I spent 13 years painting for a living, and enjoyed  most of it. I wasn’t aggressive in getting work, and was lucky it came to me;  word of mouth mostly, plus through architectural interior design  connections. I learned that websites and social media entertain a lot of  folks, but don’t necessarily bring in the work. I wasn’t good at pricing my  work, or good at saving the money I made. if I had turned that into a  lifelong, successful and sustaining business, I think all the joy of creating  art would have died in me somewhere along the way. So, I don’t paint full  time for a living, but I do paint to live, and that brings me great joy as well as an additional source of income. And, I hope there’s a place at the table  for this kind of creative life to be represented. 

Any resources you can share with us that might be helpful to other creatives?

I started my artistic career before the age of the internet, so there weren’t any ‘self-help’ resources about pricing and business models/markets  around to help mould my thinking and scope of work. Today, there is an  abundance of everything, including visual ideas, but the business ideas are probably the most valuable in the long run. I can tell you about my pre internet business approach. As mentioned earlier, my first show was not in  a gallery, but in an architectural office. I had shows in interior design firms in Washington, DC and New York. Invitations/announcements were  mailed, so a mailing list was developed; starting with client lists of the firms,  which morphed into my own mailing list. I also had shows in ‘legitimate’ galleries, but the price of doing so was steep—30%-50% commission, and  sometimes paying half the cost of the invitations and opening night  refreshments. That really got to me: I was essentially hosting a cocktail  party for a folks who never bought paintings. As a result, I started holding  shows in my studio. It worked beautifully. For the guests, there was great  cachet in “going to the artist’s studio”, as for me, I could invite who I  wanted, and I didn’t have to pay commissions. 

What’s a lesson you had to unlearn and what’s the backstory?

Don’t turn a joyful hobby into something that controls you. I started painting  for pleasure, and when I turned that pleasure into a business, I made some  mistakes, which led me to looking at painting as a chore. Commissions are  nice—guaranteed income, but don’t take too many of them on, as it takes  time and energy away from developing ideas, and, you will have a ‘boss’.  “Pay yourself first”, as the adage goes, meaning you must first put a  percentage of your sales into 1) a retirement account, and 2) an emergency funds account before you attend to your usual expenses. Be true to  yourself, if painting makes you happy and is meaningful, then paint what  makes you happy and is meaningful—this is another area that often gets  compromised with commissions, so, if you can avoid it, don’t take a  commission that could make you feel unhappy; like you’re going nowhere. Having a business is not the end, but the means by which you can keep doing what you love to do. Above, love your work and those who believe in  you.

Contact Info:

• Instagram: littleperrycabin

Image Credits
Holly Payne for the photograph of me David Braly and Mark Montoya for the 4 photographs of work