We’re excited to introduce you to the always interesting and insightful Nervous Giraffe. We hope you’ll enjoy our conversation with Nervous below.

Nervous Giraffe, looking forward to hearing all of your stories today. Can you talk to us about a project that’s meant a lot to you?

The most meaningful project I’ve worked on is my senior exhibition, Stage Fright. It was a fully immersive, haunted circus-themed show with a light-up marquee and popcorn at the reception.
The story goes back much further than one semester. Before I picked up a paintbrush, I idolized performers like Michael Jackson, Lady Gaga, and Freddie Mercury. I was a dramatic child who felt most at ease on stage, using performance as a language when friendships felt confusing or distant. For over a decade, music was my world. I studied viola, played in orchestras and symphonies, and even began college in New Orleans pursuing music professionally.
Financial necessity led me to sell my artwork, and what started as practicality became revelation. Painting felt like performance translated into image: still theatrical and symbolic, but more intimate. Eventually, I left music school, returned to Michigan, and pursued studio art at the Gwen Frostic School of Art.
Stage Fright was the culmination of that evolution. It reconciled the musician, the theatrical child, the anxious performer, and the artist learning to stand still. The work featured clowns, monsters, and exaggerated figures. I am drawn to what feels uncomfortable or misunderstood and try to soften it. In one painting, a vulnerable Grim Reaper weeps. In others, people I love appear as grotesque yet tender clowns.
Ultimately, Stage Fright marked a turning point. It gave shape to the versions of myself I had carried for years and showed me that creativity can be a place to process, transform, and celebrate all that makes me who I am.

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

My name is Hope, and I create under the name Nervous Giraffe. The name comes from my childhood. I was shy and often felt out of place. My mom used to tell me I was like a “giraffe in the monkey habitat,” and that I simply hadn’t found the right group yet. The name became a way to embrace what once made me feel different.
I graduated from Western Michigan University in December 2025 with a degree in studio art. My practice centers on large-scale mixed media painting, detailed illustration, and oil and acrylic work. Over the past year, my work has leaned into theatrical, psychologically charged imagery. I am drawn to tension, layered texture, and symbolism that lives between beauty and unease.
Alongside my studio practice, I curate exhibitions and design display cases that shape narrative through space. I interned with the Detroit Historical Society under their curatorial director, and at WMU I worked in the Zhang Legacy Collections Center handling rare books and medieval manuscripts. Those experiences sharpened my understanding of storytelling, preservation, and how meaning is constructed visually. That same sensibility carries into my online presence, where I share my process and invite audiences behind the scenes. Transparency is part of the work.
My Jewish identity is essential to both my life and creative practice. In college, I served as President of Hillel at Western Michigan University, cultivating spaces for Jewish students on campus. I have attended Jewish content creator forums in New York and Chicago and collaborated with Birthright Israel on an influencer trip to Tel Aviv for artists and musicians. I spent January 2026 in Israel, and the experience continues to inform my spiritual life and visual language. I am integrating my faith in God more intentionally, including pieces inspired by the Garden of Eden and the Western Wall in Jerusalem. After an extended series of portraiture, I am returning to abstract, textural compositions.
I am currently planning my wedding for July 2026 and creating thirty small original paintings to serve as table markers at the reception. Designing them has become another opportunity to weave art into a meaningful life moment. My fiancé, Zach Veenstra, plays an essential role in my business. He photographs my work for prints and documentation and is my creative partner in every sense. When I feel stuck in the studio, I return to painting his face. He has become my most constant muse, a steady presence in both my life and my work.

We often hear about learning lessons – but just as important is unlearning lessons. Have you ever had to unlearn a lesson?

One of the biggest lessons I had to unlearn is the idea that artists do not make money. The stereotype is persistent enough to internalize. I’ve learned that talent alone is not the determining factor. Visibility, relationships, adaptability, and clear communication matter just as much.
Moving between archives, faith communities, online platforms, and collector networks has shaped how I sustain my practice. I approach my work as both creative and entrepreneurial, nurturing community, diversifying income streams, and thinking beyond a traditional 9 to 5 model while staying authentic to the work. My latest exhibition nearly sold out in one night, and the momentum that followed graduation demonstrated real demand for work rooted in both spectacle and sincerity.

For you, what’s the most rewarding aspect of being a creative?

The most rewarding part is resonance.
What made Stage Fright especially meaningful was the response. In my guest book, people wrote about seeing themselves in the work, about growing up as the “weird” one or the black sheep and finally feeling understood. That meant more to me than anything else.
As a teenager, I was extremely insecure and struggled with my mental health. I didn’t feel like I fit in anywhere and feared I would always feel alone. Now, I am carving out a place where I belong, both in my art and in my life. I am also closer to God, and recently I heard a speaker say that our greatest fears and insecurities are often tied to the gifts God has given us. If we fear rejection or abandonment, it is because we carry a spirit of belonging. We are made to gather the outcasts, and yet the enemy tries to convince us we are one of them.
Stage Fright reminded me of that truth. The parts of ourselves that feel strange or exposed are often the parts meant to connect us to others. Creating that connection through my work is the most rewarding part of being an artist.

Contact Info:

• Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/nervous_giraffe
• Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=61558287793756
• Linkedin: https://www.linkedin.com/in/hopedonovan

Image Credits

The very first photo credit in my studio goes to Camille Stevens | Michigan Photographer