We caught up with the brilliant and insightful Maeve Doyle a few weeks ago and have shared our conversation below.
Alright, Maeve thanks for taking the time to share your stories and insights with us today. Let’s jump back to the first dollar you earned as a creative? What can you share with us about how it happened?
My first real job as an artist happened during my senior year of college, while I was in a studio art program. A local business heard about me through word of mouth and reached out, looking for someone to paint a mural in their soon-to-open shop. I had never painted a mural before, and I had absolutely no idea how to approach it—or how much to charge. I was broke and hungry for an opportunity, so when they offered me $1,200 (including supplies) to paint a 100 sq. ft. mural in just two weeks, I said yes without hesitation.
If I knew then what I know now, I would have realized that the timeline was unrealistic, and the pay was nowhere near enough for the level of detail the client wanted. But I was naive and eager to prove myself. I jumped in with no time to design anything, so I basically made it up as I went. I stopped going to class. I ate nothing but fast food. I barely slept. I lived in that shop—literally. The place was still under construction, and the two construction workers on site were also sleeping there on cots in the back. We were all in it, grinding away.
About a week and a half in, deep into sleep deprivation and painting constantly, I went to hop off the scaffolding and fell. It wasn’t a big jump—someone well-rested would have landed it easily—but I wasn’t well-rested. I fractured my right elbow—my painting arm.
I tried to push through. The pain was awful, but I figured it would go away. It didn’t. My arm started locking up, and I couldn’t straighten it at all. The construction workers begged me to go to the hospital. I compromised by walking to a big box store and buying pain patches—thinking that was a great solution. It wasn’t. I lasted a few more hours before finally dragging myself home. My roommate, with more common sense than I had at that point, insisted I go to the ER.
At the hospital, they had to forcibly straighten my arm to get X-rays while I screamed bloody murder. Turned out I had a hairline fracture. They gave me pain meds, a sling, and sent me home.
The next day, I was back on the job—painting one-handed in a sling. The mural ended up taking three weeks. By the end, I was completely broke—having eaten out every meal and burned through paint like it grew on trees. But the mural was beautiful. I was proud of what I’d created. The client was thrilled.
Years later, I found out that same client had started using the image of my mural in his marketing materials—and even printed a copy of it on the outside of his building. I’d never given permission, and I was never compensated.
That first dollar taught me three lessons I carry with me to this day:
1. Always advocate for yourself and push back when expectations are unrealistic.
2. Always have a contract—especially about payment and reproduction rights.
3. I can survive just about anything and still make something beautiful.
Maeve, 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?
My name is Maeve Francess Doyle, and I’ve spent over a decade developing my art. I was always interested in art, but my journey with painting really began as a way to navigate the overwhelming thoughts that come with my neurodivergent brain, anxieties, and depression. By translating that inner chaos onto canvas, I found a way to make sense of it visually. My art became both a coping tool and a mirror, reflecting the emotional landscapes within me.
My work is defined by a moody color palette—rich blues, purples, and teals, punctuated by vibrant pops of red, orange, and gold. I’m captivated by the idea that through an abstracted, surrealist lens, the inside landscape of the self can be revealed. Studying studio art in school, I discovered my love for working on a large scale, often with a central figure at the heart of each piece. There’s something powerful about blending the surreal and the deeply personal, allowing raw emotion to emerge through layers of abstraction.
Through my paintings, I hope to inspire others to explore creativity as a way to understand and embrace their own feelings. Whether it’s a commissioned piece or one from my studio, each work tells a story—a story that I hope will connect with the viewer on a personal, emotional level.
Are there any resources you wish you knew about earlier in your creative journey?
Yes absolutely! I wish I had known there are many ways to make art and that one of the most important parts of being an artist is to network. Go to all the shows, talk to other artists. The more you are apart of the art community, the more opportunities you will be presented with. Also, apply for grants and respond to calls for art. See what funding sources your state or city have available and just apply. Your work doesn’t have to be perfect, creating art and not showing it to people is not a pathway to success. I had a professor once say “Don’t ask, don’t get” which I found to be very good advice. If you are too afraid to ask for opportunities, you won’t be given them.
What do you find most rewarding about being a creative?
For me, the most rewarding part of being an artist is the freedom—freedom to express myself, to follow my instincts, and to create on my own terms. Visual expression is incredibly liberating; it allows me to communicate emotions and ideas that words often can’t touch. Through my art, I connect with others on a deeper, more intuitive level—sharing feelings, stories, and truths in ways that are raw and honest.
I get to do what I love every single day, and that alone is a gift. But beyond personal fulfillment, I genuinely believe that every person is meant to create. Having a creative outlet isn’t just for artists—it’s essential to living a happy, balanced, and meaningful life. Whether it’s painting, writing, building, or just daydreaming, creativity is how we make sense of the world and our place in it. That’s what makes this path so meaningful to me.
Contact Info:
- Website: https://Maevefrancess.com
- Instagram: @maevefrancess
Image Credits
Ishmam Ahmed