We recently connected with Moira Villiard and have shared our conversation below.

Moira, thanks for joining us, excited to have you contributing your stories and insights. Have you been 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? Was it like that from day one? If not, what were some of the major steps and milestones and do you think you could have sped up the process somehow knowing what you know now?

My path to becoming a full-time artist was both incredibly spontaneous and intentional. I wouldn’t say I knew I wanted to be an artist professionally when I was a kid, but I had enough trauma to sort through that it did feel like a natural progression most of the time. Through art, I could time travel – I could make the day end faster and it helped me disappear. As I got older and became more recognized for my work, paradoxically, it became a way to be seen. Creating art went from being this time machine for me to being a tool to connect with the world, and inadvertently it became something that paid the bills and allowed me to bypass nine-to-five work altogether.

I always made art, but in high school I think I became hyper-aware that not everybody could take ideas and bring them to life with pencil and paper. Especially having jumped around from small town school to small town school, it seemed like I always ended up being known as one of the few “art kids” in each of my classes, and so inevitably I always was the one to make group projects look good or to present full-blown paintings when given the option to “get creative” and do something other than write a final paper.

Throughout high school though, there weren’t artistic options presented during life classes or Career Day. My options were to become a tattoo artist or graphic designer if I wanted to pursue art, and both of those sounded terrible. I sort of wanted to be a writer, but I felt like I didn’t know enough about the world to write about what I was interested in. I also wanted to be a dentist. I didn’t see much of a path for myself, though.

At one point or another, like many low-income kids, I was almost convinced to become a nurse fresh out of high school. My school offered a program where you could get some kind of certification when you graduated and start work for $14.00 immediately out of high school. That sounded amazing to me, coming from a household that got by only on the welfare system. I enrolled in whatever that course was in 10th grade, but my fear of needles at the time made me drop-out (they required a TB test). Additionally, I couldn’t drive (let alone afford driver’s ed) so I couldn’t make it to some of the off-site lessons, and I had an occipital seizure at the beginning of the school year that rocked my world and made me want to ease up on my course load.

I dropped out of the nursing program and enlisted in a pottery class instead. I typically was bored in art classes so I wasn’t super excited to be in the art room, but we had a new art teacher and she gave me a lot of space to literally create on my own time.

I’ll spare the full story of my high school experience. It wasn’t the most impactful part of my career trajectory, but it was in high school that I got to dabble in different mediums, including murals, thanks to the support of my art teacher.

After graduating, I volunteered at an event called Art in Bayfront Park. One day, I was called over by a caricature artist who offered to draw my portrait for free. I sat down and he asked me a bit about my hobbies and interests. I told him that I was an artist too and after he finished making my portrait, I showed him some of the work I’d done that summer.

He gave me a piece of advice that seemed like a given to me at the time, but as I reflect on the moment, it’s one that I really did subconsciously carry with me over the years. He said something along the lines of, “Don’t do anything else but your art. Don’t work a normal job, don’t become a waitress or work in retail. Don’t get distracted. If you want to be an artist, you need to stay focused.”

The work I’d completed at that time included a series of portraits referencing National Geographic photos that would eventually make up the body of work that I exhibited in my first duo-art exhibition at 18 years old. The National Geographic magazines I’d used were the product of a dumpster diving session (sponsored by my art teacher).

I landed that show in what was to me, at the time, the big city of Duluth, MN, at an organization that was just beginning its arts program. There was an artist by the name in my Biology class at FDLTCC who randomly asked me one day if I had enough art to be in a show with him. It was that simple. We were the two artists who sat in the back of the science lab doodling on our notebooks and somehow that connection led to my first show.

I made it a goal after my first show that I wanted to do something artistic every month for the rest of my life.

The story from that point of how I became a full-time artist is constituted by what I would call “intentional accidents” – opportunities that arose organically when I found myself intentionally seeking the “right place” at the right time. I kept the promise to myself to participate in an art exhibit every month for several years until it eventually became my job. When there wasn’t a call for art or a space to exhibit, I made up my own opportunities and took up live-painting in public places. I partnered with other artists and did trades for my art services.

Following subconsciously in the caricature artists’ advice, I managed to avoid ever having to work a job that stifled my creativity. My first job was in the marketing department of Fond du Lac Tribal & Community College. My supervisor, Tom Urbanski, was a photographer and an astute editor. He allowed me to use some of my hours to watch YouTube videos and teach myself how to use the Adobe Creative Suite and Final Cut Pro. I learned skills in Graphic Design and editing at this position, and realized that I had a knack for Public Relations.

I joined a wide range of clubs on campus and became the designated marketing person for most of them. I simultaneously got a job as a Student Ambassador, which was a new program that offered students a lot of input in the process of crafting a job description. We ended up being event programmers for the student body, and I learned how to engage the campus community and organize events.

I had no intention of going to college initially, but after I’d had so much success at FDLTCC, I decided to continue with my education and transfer to the University of Wisconsin-Superior to pursue a degree in Communicating Arts. I was intentional in avoiding the Fine Arts as a degree because, by this point, I was a budding visual artist and booking shows already. I felt like my skills were at a point where I didn’t want to take the introductory level courses in fine art at University level, and instead wanted to be in a program that allowed me to examine theory and to study ways to engage community and social issues.

I minored in Global Studies, a program that doesn’t exist anymore at UWS but that I would argue was one of the best programs they offered. It allowed me to pursue study across departments, which was really important to me as I looked for inspiration as an artist. I spent a lot of time in the Sociology department and gained a lot of practical insight into the social issues that would influence my work as a professional artist and activist.

You might note the theme here. I became an artist professionally by finding places that allowed me the flexibility and freedom to experiment and learn across disciplines and without inhibition. I found ways to get paid to learn and to practice and made connections that were meaningful with people who would support my desire to grow as an artist, even indirectly. I painted portraits on commission for people, and kept adding 0’s to my prices every few years.

After acquiring my Bachelor’s of Science degree, I landed my dream job at the nonprofit where I’d had my first art show, the American Indian Community Housing Organization (AICHO). The place that was the launching point for my career as an artist offered me a position in managing their budding arts program and coordinating cultural activities across their social programming. I worked there for three years and became part of what I would call an arts movement rooted in the Northern USA – a movement to uplift the Anishinaabe and Indigenous stories of our region. I became connected with hundreds of artists, many of whom I’d grown up admiring in my life as a mixed heritage kid growing up on a tribal reservation, and everything in my life seemed to speed up.

While working at AICHO, I also spent a lot of time serving on foundation boards and as a grant-writer. I worked full-time at AICHO and after work or during vacation days, I fell into a career as a public artist, painting murals and engaging the community in the creation of collaborative works. I taught art as a guest instructor at area schools and took on miscellaneous projects with some of the artists who I’d become acquainted with through work. I said yes to everything (which I don’t recommend, by the way).

All that being said, I don’t know if the path to becoming an artist is one that’s very replicable. Some people go to school for it and that works well for them. Some people aren’t even good at art per se but they sell an illusion in the value of their work. Some people are incredibly gifted and disciplined but fail to ever see a career in the arts. Some people are terrible, ugly humans but they create immense beauty in their work. And for some, art isn’t a career – it’s a lifestyle or way of doing.

You see it all on this path, so I can’t say that there’s a formula for success or a prescribed way of getting here. There’s reality and illusion and dreams and logic, there’s nonsense and pain and joy and cliches, and it’s all tangled in a mess of neoliberalism and capitalism and isms and other monolithic yet meaningless English-language words. The path involves some kind of faith in whatever it is that compels us to turn the voice and visions in our head into a tangible creation.

Speaking just for myself, I find it hard to turn off the constant barrage of thoughts and images in my head, and I happened to find a way to survive on that, both spiritually and monetarily.

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

I’m a multidisciplinary artist, which means I work in a wide range of mediums. I started off as a painter and was influenced as a kid by some of the surrealist artwork of painters like Salvador Dali and even the older works of Heironymous Bosch. I eventually became interested in portraits and developed a style of colorful pop culture portraiture, which landed me a lot of commissioned work.

Eventually I wrote a grant to spend time figuring out ways to merge the two techniques into what I feel is my style today, combining human forms and portraits into surreal, illustrative imagery. My practice as a painter consists of developing exhibits that explore different social topics using this style, in conjunction with community programming. My two traveling exhibits currently are titled “Rights of the Child” and “Waiting for Beds” – the first being an exhibit that looks at the history of human rights law and the phenomenon of distorting language/law to make moral arguments, and the second being an exhibit that explores what happens during the “wait” for beds to open up in crisis care, shelters, and other social service spaces.

In the summertime I am a muralist. I’m the director of the Chief Buffalo Memorial project in Duluth, MN, and I otherwise spend a lot of time designing public art projects that engage the community in the creative process. A question I like to address in my work as a muralist is “What’s missing?”

During the winter I spend more time as a freelance illustrator and graphic designer. I also dabble in frame-by-frame experimental animation, which gets used for large-scale projection mapping.

I follow the seasons with my work, and focus on issues of social justice more often then not. I enjoy using my work as a means to study subjects that are challenging or misunderstood, and usually do this collaboratively.

Can you tell us about a time you’ve had to pivot?

While working at AICHO, I also spent a lot of time serving on foundation boards and as a grant-writer. I worked full-time at AICHO and after work or during vacation days, I fell into a career as a public artist, painting murals and engaging the community in the creation of collaborative works. I taught art as a guest instructor at area schools and took on miscellaneous projects with some of the artists who I’d become acquainted with through work. I said yes to everything (which I don’t recommend, by the way). By the end of 2019, I was struggling to balance my own personal work with my day job, and after three years at AICHO, I decided to quit and pursue life as a full-time artist.

My timing was impeccable.

A month later, the COVID-19 pandemic spread across the world. I watched a roster of opportunities to travel and engage the community melt away – every single project I had scheduled in 2020 was canceled within a month of me leaving my job.

It was a rocky start to my life as an artist. My income was spotty at first, but I pivoted and made a living creating culturally specific materials for clinics and health organizations. I created artistic billboards, stickers, posters, etc. related to the pandemic and the safety measures that needed to be disseminated. Eventually I was able to adapt some of my public art practices to accommodate the forever changed sphere of public space. Freelancing kept me afloat until this past year where I was able to pick up where I left off. Now I’m basically on a self-guided world tour, having just traveled internationally for the first time to Mexico City and then Salzburg, Austria immediately after for artist residencies. I’m headed to Israel/Palestine next and eager to connect with artists and communities there.

What do you find most rewarding about being a creative?

So the funny thing is, I don’t actually make much more money than I did when I had a nonprofit job, but I feel wealthier because I have more time. I think that’s been the greatest gift of being an artist … I have a lot to get done every single day, but the hours that I finish the work are optional. I can work at 2 AM or 12 PM or 8 PM (honestly, the only time I refuse to work is at sunrise).

What’s even more amazing is being able to write grants to pay other people and artists to help me along the way, and to share credit in so much of community efforts that I’m a part of. I never thought I’d be at a point where I could support so many other emerging artists, but here we are. If anything continues, I hope it’s that part.

Contact Info:

• Website: artbymoira.com
• Instagram: @moiraliketheory
• Facebook: www.facebook.com/moirart
• Linkedin: https://www.linkedin.com/in/moira-villiard-240004121/

Image Credits
Personal photo by: Richard Schabetsberger  Other photos: Karen Sunderman Jonathan Thunder Hamm Clinic Dudley Edmondson Moira Villiard