We were lucky to catch up with Michael Rohner recently and have shared our conversation below.

Michael , thanks for taking the time to share your stories with us today Are you able to earn a full-time living from your creative work? If so, can you walk us through your journey and how you made it happen?

I had no idea how to make a living as an artist. Like, no idea. People who saw my work would tell me I could make a living off of it, but they may as well have told me I could fly because I didn’t know the first thing about making that happen either. Now, there were art jobs such as graphic design, story boarding, animation, etc…, but those felt antithetical to why I liked to draw and be creative in the first place; I knew I would grow to resent the thing I loved most if I traded in my creative autonomy for a salary.

My family believed in my talent to a fair degree, but they too didn’t know how I could go about turning it into a reality; since I wasn’t being proactive about it and couldn’t admit to myself let alone anyone else that it was actually my dream, they were concerned I was letting life pass me by while waiting for the “perfect” thing. So they really urged me to just pursue any career path to move forward. I was waiting tables and working random jobs (car sales, event bar tending, the occasional freelance gig that fell in my lap, shift work) while figuring out my life.

(I think it’s important to note here that, while none of these gigs were my identity, I took pride in my work and gave them all the best I could. If I found myself slacking off, I looked for a job that would inspire me to learn, grow, and be committed. I 100% believe this is key, that how we do the little things is how we do everything.)

I will say this: my family is full of determined, hard workers. There is creative blood amongst us. One of my sisters made a living as a salsa instructor for a couple of decades and another was a professional singer for a brief period. My stepfather was an entrepreneur and my mother is a brilliant saleswoman. So, while I didn’t know it then, I did have the familial foundation to be a self driven creative.

I was waiting tables in Santa Fe, NM around 2009. I was finally “pursuing” my art, meaning I was focused on creating artwork and meeting people involved in the art world. People in the community knew I could draw, but I hadn’t crossed over into selling it. I did have one art show under my belt, at an Argentinian tapas cafe in Los Angeles I used to hang out in with my sketchbook when I lived there. My mom convinced me, the night before that show, to make prints of my work. We argued about it: at the time, I thought prints would be cheesy and cheapen my work. She steadfastly drove the point that, if I sold only the original of a drawing that I’d invested countless hours of thought, emotion, and labor on, then it would go to just one person’s home and disappear from the rest of the world forever. I disagreed then, but she was right. Anyhow, I relented and went to the big photocopy chain before my art show and made a stack of basic quality prints.

So, I still had some prints on hand while waiting tables in Santa Fe. One Friday I got cut early from a shift. I needed the money that night so had the pressure to make something happen, and I remembered there was a dj’ed event at a local bohemian coffee shop that evening. I’d long admired people who’d busk their artwork on the sidewalk at the Venice Boardwalk in LA and like I’d seen on the streets of major international cities. So, in need of money, I walked into my fear, loaded prints into a portfolio book and into my backpack, and headed to the coffee shop.

I didn’t have a strategy for how to sell my work out of a backpack, but thankfully just showing up that night was enough: friends there asked if I was working on anything new, which was a convenient invitation to whip out the portfolio and declare I finally had something for sale. I made $120 in 2 hours, which might’ve been a better total than what I was going to make in a full shift at that restaurant in 2009. And that was it! That was my in and the spark I needed to unlock a part of myself I didn’t even know existed. My life would never be the same, as I finally found something I could throw the entirety of myself at. I spent almost every night over the next six months loading up my backpack and hitting the town. I’d go to bars, parks, house parties, special events, anywhere. If we’d eat at a diner, I’d plop my prints on the table. Usually the server would inquire and end up buying a print, which would pay for my meal. It was never as easy as the first $120 in 2 hours, but I was determined – probably to the point of obsession – with making it happen. I’d draw during the day, hit up the copy mat, and go back out again at night.

I still wasn’t making enough money per se, I think I earned about as much as a low wage restaurant server that first year. That part was discouraging, but my then girlfriend offered the perspective that making the amount of any gig my first year as an artist was meaningful. She was right. I’m not sure if I would’ve done any of it differently, because it’s so much of my story and who I am today, but I was as anxious and scared as I was motivated that first year or two. It wasn’t until I had a full year to look back on, “oh I’m much further along than I was at this time last year,” that I felt like I was actually building a career.

Another important note: I held a lot of credit card debt for probably over half a decade as I started up (like, a lot), which is supremely scary for an individual and contributed to my deep sense of fear that I wasn’t actually making it. However, carrying start up debt was actually on par for a small business owner, which was a huge distinction I learned to make (shout out and RIP to my big sister Atta for pointing that one out to me). As a small business owner, I wasn’t expected to turn a profit for 5-10 years, so I learned to track my year over year growth as a predictor (and reassurance) of success rather than whether I was out of debt.

Still, in those early days I felt on the verge of failure at every moment. I couldn’t see how I’d ever increase the amount of money I was making, gain traction, ever take a vacation or buy a home. And that’s what I often tell people starting out: that existential fear can actually be a good sign, a sign that you’re embarking on your own path, one that hasn’t been laid out for you by someone else. It being hard and daunting and seemingly impossible isn’t necessarily an indication of inevitable failure: rather, if there was a clear path to doing this then many more people would be doing it. But my peers and current world is populated with people who walked a similar road – one step at a time, investing in themselves against conventional 9-5 wisdom, and a determination to carve out a meaningful life for ourselves and be our own bosses. It’s rebellious and autonomous and beautiful and worth devoting your life to. I found my fight, my voice, and access to my passion when confronted with the thought of having to put my dream back in a box. It can be a challenging road but I’ve carved out a comfortable living for myself.

Awesome – so before we get into the rest of our questions, can you briefly introduce yourself to our readers.

My name is Michael Rohner. I’m Berkeley, CA based but have lived in Santa Fe, NM and Oakland, CA during my career. I’m an independent, full time artist. My mixed media illustration style is self taught – I draw detailed totem animals with ink on paper then color them with various combinations of watercolor, marker, and spray paint along with additional embellishments like gold leaf, paint marker, and oil pastel. I primarily sell my work through fine art festivals, the occasional music festival and street fair. I also sell my work online, direct to customers at my studio, and through boutiques and small galleries.

I wound up selling my own work directly after figuring the math with galleries didn’t add up for me as an artist at the start of my career – I couldn’t afford to give the few quality pieces I had at the time to a gallery and receive 50% IF they sold without going back to waiting tables. I found it made more sense to sell my work directly – first out of a backpack in public spaces, then at flea markets (the Santa Fe flea market boasts very high quality makers and traders), then at small local festivals and graduating to larger out of state shows, eventually being juried into nationally recognized fine art shows. Each step, each brick in the wall so to speak was laid patiently over time. I’m in no hurry, this journey has been hard as heck but I look at it as a creation in and of itself and want to enjoy each phase.

If I were to be immodest and name my talent, I think I have a gift for imbuing life into my work to create emotionally resonant characters. The animals have life in their eyes. Whatever energetic I work with when creating a piece tends to attract an energetically compatible audience and buyer. For example, pieces that mourn lost loved ones, even with no literal reference to death or loss in the piece, seem to connect strongly with people in mourning. I’m forever grateful for being able to forge meaningful connections with otherwise strangers through the bridging medium of my work.

I handle every piece of artwork sold. I print my own prints in studio, hand sign them, dry mount my mounted prints to wood panel and gloss them with artist embellishment. I’m largely a one man show and work almost every day. Buying my work not only puts food on the table but affords me time to create more work, spend time with loved ones, experience life and continue to do my best to create high vibration artwork that opens peoples’ hearts.

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.

I’m ambidextrous, which I believe implies I’m both left and right brained. I’m able to run and manage my business in a way that’s typically looked at as outside of an artist’s wheelhouse. But it’s f*n hard. I spend maybe 85-95% of my time running the business and a sad 5-15% of my time creating. And creating isn’t a a simple straightforward process for me: it takes 3-7 days for me to transition back into studio after an art show: I need to rest, pay my bills, run errands, catch up with humans, respond to emails, do laundry and cook food before I can turn my attention to the muses, to be in a state where I get caught up in the moment where the only thing that matters is drawing the next line. That precious, almost child-like, in-the-moment state.

Being in that state is a luxury for most people, with our pressing adult responsibilities. For those who live in their right brain full time, the world can be an unforgiving place: your favorite pieces of art may have been created by someone who struggles to keep track of time, battles insomnia, marches to a completely different drum. Our world doesn’t favor those who exist in the present, the introverts, or the night owls. It’s built around the extroverts, the early birds, and the left brained.

I’m thankfully able to make the switch between the two, but it’s hard. Every. Single. Time. I’ve accepted that my transition from left–>right brain can involve a a bout of internal conflict as I shift from orderly to free spirited and I feel inadequate for not being enough of the other. And the balance is delicate: if I’m interrupted with real world problem solving, then I can be shot back into the left brain and sometimes need to take 30-45 minutes to release the busy mind.

Our minds and souls are incredibly dynamic receptors for creative thought and expression. Take a hike, sit in quiet, walk in nature. Allow uncontrolled thought to take its course. I think the world would be better off if we all took moments to let it slow down.

Alright – so here’s a fun one. What do you think about NFTs?

Not a fan currently.

Here’s why: regardless of their potential to revolutionize art transactions via the blockchain, I don’t see them qualitatively benefiting the art world beyond novelty and hype right now.

The issue for me is their value is currently all speculative and meme driven. The market is also speculative. And the thought process of creating something in that hopes it goes viral doesn’t appeal to me.

The artists I’ve seen succeed in this space are a) tapping into a hype market, and b) focusing much of their creativity into the NFT world.

People have been encouraging me to make NFTs for years or to make art for the meta space. A good chunk of my peers and artists I admire have made them. I have no idea if it’s worked out for them (I hope it has), but for my own taste, deep down inside the only reason I’d create one is to not miss the boat, and I don’t see that as a good motivation to create. You wouldn’t like my art if I did it that way, trust me. But to be clear, no shade towards anyone taking these on. I get it.

So yeah, NFTs may have a meaningful future and eventually bring a long sought after agency and empowerment to the everyday artist, but for now I’ll pass.

Contact Info:

• Website: www.rohnerart.com
• Instagram: www.instagram.com/rohnerart
• Facebook: www.facebook.com/rohnerart

Image Credits
Photo by Kelsey Brunner