We recently connected with Hyero Veney and have shared our conversation below.

Alright, Hyero thanks for taking the time to share your stories and insights with us today. The first dollar you earn is always exciting – it’s like the start of a new chapter and so we’d love to hear about the first time you sold or generated revenue from your creative work?

I’ve been drawing since I was a kid, but I never really thought of it as anything more than just something I loved to do. In my senior year of high school, I was in AP Art, and for the first time, I had access to unlimited supplies and the freedom to experiment. That’s when I really started to play around with chalk pastels — I liked how bold and fast they were, even if they made a huge mess.

Outside of art, I was super involved in school. I was president of the National Art Honor Society and vice president of two clubs, V.I.B.E. and I.M.A.G.I.N.E., which were basically like our Black student unions. We did cultural events, self-esteem workshops, school tours — it was a lot, but it meant a lot to me.

At our end-of-year picnic, I brought my pastels just for fun. I was in that phase where I loved drawing quick portraits — it felt like a cool party trick. One of the board members saw my work and asked me to draw her. I said sure and knocked it out in under 20 minutes. When I tried to just hand it to her, she asked how much. I told her not to worry about it — I was just doing it for fun. But she insisted. I said, “Okay, $50,” kind of joking. She just smiled, grabbed my hand like a grandma, and slipped me a hundred-dollar bill.

I’ll never forget that moment. I was in high school, working two jobs, and that was the fastest and easiest money I had ever made. It was wild. It made me realize, Wait… maybe this art thing is actually worth something. But even then, I still didn’t believe art could be a “real” job. I even picked a liberal arts major in college over anything art-related because it felt safer.

I got a 5 on my AP Art exam that year, but after high school, life hit. I stopped creating for a while — I was just focused on surviving. It actually took two full years before I made another dollar from my art. And funny enough, it was that same woman who reached out again. She asked me to make a piece that reflected everything we went through in 2020. That really woke something up in me.

It still took a few more years, but eventually I committed to pursuing art seriously. I sold my first painting for $20,000, and I thought back to that first $100 at the picnic. That moment was the start of everything — the first time someone believed in my art before I really did. And honestly, I’ve held onto that feeling ever since.

Hyero, 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?

My name is Hyero — I’m a multidisciplinary artist who paints, draws, and crochets. At the heart of my work is a message of body positivity and Black liberation. I create art that centers people who look like us bold, beautiful, and worthy in all of our forms.

I’ve been drawing since I was a kid, but I started taking my craft more seriously in high school. I was in AP Art, had access to all kinds of materials, and led several art-based and cultural clubs. That experience helped me realize how powerful creativity can be not just as a personal outlet, but as a tool for connection, self-expression, and healing.

Today, my work spans across different mediums from portraiture and painting to crochet and wearable art. Whether it’s a drawing, a canvas, or a handmade piece, everything I create is rooted in love, joy, and care for my community. I want people to feel seen when they look at my work especially those who are often left out of traditional narratives in art and media.

I offer commissions for paintings, digital art, and crochet pieces, as well as original collections that explore themes of softness, freedom, and identity. I also collaborate with organizations and groups whose values align with mine, often working on projects that speak to culture, storytelling, and representation.

What sets my work apart is that it’s not just about how it looks it’s about how it makes people feel. I bring my full self into what I create, and I think that honesty and intention come through. I’m not chasing perfection I’m creating space for realness, for joy, and for reflection.

One of the things I’m most proud of is that I’ve continued to grow my art practice while staying true to my message. Every time someone tells me my work made them feel seen or inspired, that’s what really matters to me. That’s what keeps me going.

If you’re new to my work, I want you to know that it’s all rooted in care care for craft, for culture, and for community. I’m here to make art, but more importantly, I’m here to make space.

Any insights you can share with us about how you built up your social media presence?

When people ask how I built my audience on social media, I always tell them the same thing: yes, you can follow trends, use the right sounds, and post art to catchy music but if you really want to grow your audience quickly and meaningfully, you have to tell your story.

Art is powerful on its own, but what makes people connect what makes them stay is you. I learned early on that when I post a drawing video, adding a voiceover explaining why I created it or what I was feeling brings a whole new level of engagement. It helps people see me as a real person, not just a profile or a product. That human connection is what turns a casual viewer into someone who supports your journey long-term.

You don’t need a fancy setup or a perfect script just speak honestly. Let people in on your process, your struggles, your wins, even your random thoughts. When you do that, your art becomes more than just something to scroll past. It becomes part of a story that people want to follow.

As for strategy, I know a lot of people swear by rigid posting schedules and that can work for some. But for me, consistency without burnout has always been the sweet spot. Posting daily across platforms, even if it’s something small, has helped me grow my presence without overwhelming the algorithm or myself. It’s less about hacking the system and more about showing up in a way that feels real and sustainable.

So if you’re just starting out, my biggest advice is this: don’t focus only on what’s trending focus on being you. Show your art, but also show your heart. That’s what people remember.

Learning and unlearning are both critical parts of growth – can you share a story of a time when you had to unlearn a lesson?

A lesson I had to unlearn was the idea that art is only valuable if it has a deep story behind it. Especially as a creative of color, I grew up feeling like my work had to carry weight it had to speak to trauma, identity, injustice, or legacy. There was this unspoken pressure that if I was going to make something, it better mean something.

It’s one of my more controversial takes, but I still stand by it: white artists can draw apples all day and no one questions it. No one asks, “But what does it mean?” But when Black and Brown artists create something simple, we’re often expected to explain ourselves to justify our creativity through context, pain, or purpose. It’s like joy, simplicity, and experimentation aren’t enough unless they’re tied to a bigger narrative.

That mindset followed me for years, especially in school. I hated still life assignments. I couldn’t see the point in drawing random objects that didn’t “say anything.” It felt like busywork — like time I could’ve spent making something real.

But that changed one weekend as an adult. I kept noticing the same three objects around my house just everyday things and on a whim, I decided to draw them. No concept, no message, just form, light, and composition. Before I knew it, I had spent the whole weekend drawing still lives. And by the end of it, I realized: drawing apples didn’t waste my time it made me stronger. It sharpened my eye, my technique, my patience. It helped me reconnect with the craft of art, not just the message.

So the lesson I had to unlearn was that not every piece has to carry a heavy meaning to be worthwhile. Sometimes, creating just to create is the most radical act of all especially when you’ve been told your work only matters if it explains your existence.

Contact Info:

• Website: https://iamhyero.com
• Instagram: iamhyero@gmail.com
• Facebook: iamhyero

Image Credits

N/A all images taken by me