We caught up with the brilliant and insightful Hollie Brown a few weeks ago and have shared our conversation below.

Hollie, appreciate you joining us today. Are you happy as a creative professional? Do you sometimes wonder what it would be like to work for someone else?

On most days I am happier as an artist. The sense of excitement and purpose I feel when painting or working with ceramics far exceeds any appeal a traditional job might hold for me. That said, pursuing art as a career is not for the faint of heart. It requires determination, persistence, and above all, adaptability. Opportunities in the art world can be unpredictable—one year you might sell several pieces, the next, none. So, it becomes essential to find creative ways to bridge those gaps.

Currently, I teach part-time at multiple universities. And if you’re familiar with adjunct pay, you know it’s rarely enough to sustain a living. That reality inspired me to launch a small business painting secondhand clothing and selling it online—an effort that allows me to stay connected to my practice while exploring alternative income streams.

I sometimes imagine what a more conventional career path might look like. The prospect of financial stability, a consistent schedule, and the simplicity of clocking in and out each day is undeniably appealing. But along with that idea come more complex questions: Would I still have the time and energy to create? Would I feel intellectually and creatively fulfilled? Would I be valued in that environment? And most importantly, how might my current skills translate into a new field?

Not knowing what comes next is both unnerving and exhilarating. But ultimately, I’m willing to risk stability in order to give myself the chance to build the life and career I truly want.

Hollie, 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 originally started out as a photography major in college, imagining I’d eventually become a wedding photographer or something along those lines. The first studio art class I took was black and white film photography, and through it, I quickly discovered the physicality and hands-on nature of the medium. From there, everything snowballed—I became just as obsessed with painting, and I haven’t stopped since.

After earning my MFA in Interdisciplinary Art from UC Riverside in 2017, I’ve been steadily carving out a path toward becoming a full-time artist. Right now, I divide my time between teaching, running a small business, and producing work for exhibitions. This balancing act is largely driven by financial necessity, though my hope is that one of these pursuits will eventually become my primary focus.

My small business, Little Shop of Hollies, was born during the pandemic, when I found myself suddenly out of work. It started as a creative outlet during a period of deep uncertainty, but it also became a way to experiment with entrepreneurship and to find new avenues for sharing my work.

Little Shop of Hollies—or LSH for short—is centered around transforming secondhand clothing into wearable art. Sustainability is a core value in my practice, and the sheer volume of clothing that ends up in landfills is a problem. It gives me a small sense of relief to know that the pieces I paint will be worn with care, intention, and love.

I primarily work with t-shirts, using them as a canvas to explore color, gesture, pattern, and imagery—from classical painting references to reality TV.

In addition to LSH, I create paintings, ceramics, and sculptures for exhibitions. I try to maintain a through line across all my work, but I often find myself grappling with the difference between painting on a shirt and painting on a canvas. I’m equally invested in both processes, yet they exist in very different contexts—one is ephemeral, meant to move through the world as part of someone’s daily life; the other is static, built to endure as an object of permanence.

I think what sets me apart is my flexibility and adaptability. I approach each opportunity with openness and a genuine willingness to grow, shift, and learn. I’m not afraid to move in new directions or take creative risks.

The choice to be an artist is incredibly brave; I am most proud of that. Creativity is a profound gift, and it’s one I feel grateful to share with others.

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

Craftsmanship: I walk a line between being a perfectionist and an incredibly messy person. In school, I thought of my chaotic side as a weakness. I would try to paint in this perfect way, combating spills, drips, smears.

Then one day, I was struggling with a painting that kept getting worse the more I tried to control it. Out of pure frustration, I poured the rest of my gesso onto the canvas and wiped it across the surface with a towel. It wasn’t enough to fully cover the piece, but somehow, it revealed the most beautiful painting I had made up to that point.

That experience taught me to stop resisting the mess. Once I opened that door, my work began to grow and feel more authentic. Now, as an educator, I still value craftsmanship—but just as importantly, I encourage my students to make space for accidents, to experiment, and to let go of the need to get everything “right.” There’s a different kind of mastery in that.

Is there something you think non-creatives will struggle to understand about your journey as a creative?

In a world saturated with prints, DIY projects, and big-box decor, artists are constantly challenged to show that their work holds value beyond what’s readily available. When someone chooses to support an artist, they’re doing more than buying a piece—they’re helping keep the very idea of an “art career” alive and viable for future generations.

I’ve faced a lot of uncertainty choosing this path. There have been moments when I’ve seriously considered letting go of my dream of being a full-time artist in exchange for financial stability and a simpler life. But that feeling disappears the moment someone shows support—whether it’s purchasing a piece, attending a show, or simply sharing kind words.

Contact Info:

• Website: https://www.holliebrown.org/ AND https://littleshopofhollies.bigcartel.com/
• Instagram: @downtownholliebrown AND @littleshopofhollies

Image Credits

Some of the photography is by Bobby Scheidemann. The profile image and the images of the ceramics are by him.