Alright – so today we’ve got the honor of introducing you to Rabbit. Print. We think you’ll enjoy our conversation, we’ve shared it below.

Rabbit., appreciate you joining us today. Has your work ever been misunderstood or mischaracterized?

More often than not, when people approach my work, they ask me what it means or what it represents. I usually briefly tell people the names of the objects being shown and give additional context as needed, but it is very rare when I disclose to someone what any of my work is supposed to mean.
By nature, my work is not meant to be immediately understood. I’m not drawing for a general audience, I’m specifically trying to talk to people like me, people who can see what I’m trying to say, and loud enough that they notice.

This often is seen as a double-edged sword by most. I either get people only wanting to converse with a piece at a surface level; only noticing the vibrant colors, contemplative figures, and the overwhelming amount of pattern or detail. They give me a quick polite compliment and move on, and that’s okay, like I mentioned before, it’s not for everybody. Some people have told me that I won’t find success as an illustrator if I keep being hyper-specific because to them, my experience as a first generation Mexican-American, descendant of detribalized Nahua people, child of immigrants, is not universal. However, they’re wrong and very bold to assume that, let alone feel comfortable to voice such sentiment.

Growing up, it was hard to find anyone that looked like me. That spoke like me. That saw the world like me. Eventually you get tired and yearn for some type of world that sees you and takes the time to carve a space for you, but the world is unsafe. People are sometimes cruel and ignorant. It’s just how things are, and you learn to adapt. Just like my ancestors who hid their culture, identity, beliefs, love, and memory behind images of the church, so they can talk to others who are also sworn into secrecy for safety. I hear their whispers and continue that silent conversation with them. It is centuries old and still thriving.

For every person that interacts with my work at a surface level, there is another person who understands what I’m trying to say. They maybe can’t make out every single word, every single emotion, and every single code, but that dull ache that people like me carry is soothed and they join into our ancestral conversation. That’s for who my art is for. It is what makes me stand out from others and it is my greatest joy to keep these traditions of memory going.

Rabbit., 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?

I’m Rabbit.Print, a Mexican-American freelance illustrator. I have an immense passion for Pre-Hispanic Mesoamerica (particularly Nahua culture) and the paranormal/supernatural parts of Mexican culture. I strive with my craft to make people like me feel seen and appreciated by filling in the visual representational gap in the arts. Nothing brings me more joy and fulfillment than someone telling them that my work makes them feel seen, loved, understood, and inspired to reconnect or honor their respective ancestry. That’s all I want to do for the rest of my life and I feel incredibly lucky to be able to do so.

How about pivoting – can you share the story of a time you’ve had to pivot?

As the (sort of) eldest child of immigrants, right out of the womb I was expected to go to college and graduate with an “honorable” degree like STEM, law, or business. It makes sense, my parents didn’t sacrifice and deal with so many hardships “por al puro pendejo” (just for the fun of it). Plus, my parents just wanted to make sure I had a safe future, I get it.

A thing a lot of people don’t talk about is the inherent guilt us first generation citizens (no matter where your motherland is) carry because we are very aware of the struggles at infancy. The last thing I wanted was to disappoint my parents. I couldn’t bear the thought of making them feel that everything they did was in vain. So, just at the ripe age of 11, I set my mind that I was going to some type of ivy league school, major in STEM, and right out of college make at least six-figures, and buy a house by 25. Clearly, I haven’t accomplished any of these milestones.

By the time I graduated highschool, I had a GPA about 4.6, had a year of college credits completed, president of a club, attended an engineering academy for high schoolers for 4 years (which I hated every single second of), and had somewhere around 100+ hours of community service. Everyone around me kept telling me that I would get into any school I applied to and my demographics (first generation Mexican-American, low-income, single parent, etc.) would give me extra brownie points from recruiters. I applied to 10 schools, many of them top brand names like UCLA, Berkeley, USC, and I only got into 4. All of them were my last choice or even random schools I picked because, thankfully, I had a waiver that allowed me to apply to 4 schools for free. I was distraught to say the least. As dramatic (and quite frankly funny) it may seem, I felt that every single sacrifice and effort I had put into getting into my dream school was for nothing. At 17, I felt like the biggest failure to society and quickly became a miserable person to be around, boo hoo.

However, a thing you should know is that while I was filling out my college applications, I would quietly linger around art school websites and “out of curiosity” look at their applications. I also often watched videos of art students showing off their portfolios online, because you know, “just for fun”. Even though it was so evidently clear that I loved art and the humanities since I was a zygote, everyone discouraged the idea of art school or seeking art as a career. Being rejected from all these schools was genuinely a blessing in disguise.

On orientation day of the school I begrudgingly picked, I was surprised to see that they had a whole art school. I did probably the most impulsive things so far in my life, and in the middle of orientation I switched my major to art. My parents were pretty upset to put it mildly, but I reassured them that I knew what I was doing (I didn’t) and that I would find success as a freelance illustrator. I knew I made the right choice the day I secretly teared up in the middle of an illustration class because I was overwhelmed with joy by just sitting down and drawing. I feel so incredibly lucky to be able to say that at such a young age, I have been able to find and do the things I love, let alone be around people who understand that feeling too.

I can proudly say that I’m the first in my family to have a Bachelors and graduated with zero debt – I don’t regret anything and I look forward to seeing what the future holds for me. Especially after I learned that an insignificant human’s meticulous planning means nothing to the face of the universe, so might as well enjoy the journey and do what makes you happy.

In your view, what can society to do to best support artists, creatives and a thriving creative ecosystem?

Pay us. It’s that simple. My work takes at least 40 hours to complete from start to finish, it’s a full time job to create anything. By paying us our worth and what we ask, we can continue to sustainably produce work for everyone to consume and enjoy. However, people are bold and assume that just because it’s “meaningless” to them, the rest of the world should align accordingly to their poorly misjudged belief.

You wouldn’t walk into a restaurant, bother the waiter for your order, let the kitchen staff spend time to make your request, lick the whole plate clean, maybe even try to bite a piece off the porcelain plate when you think no one is looking, be handed the bill, and act all surprised that you need to pay a reasonable price for the time and labor that took to make your meal because “you could have just made it yourself at home.” (Then why didn’t you?!)

Same thing when you ask for a commission of any sort or flavor.

However, these sentiments exist because we live in a world that does not recognize the value of the arts. Even though art is essential for everything, schools, businesses, and organizations seem trigger-happy to gut the art budget because “it’s not profitable.”

I think the only real solution is to provide financial assistance to as many arts programs as we can and encourage others to partake in them. It’s only in the process of doing that you begin to appreciate the time and effort it takes to manifest anything into this world. Just like the same way you learn to truly appreciate your mom’s cooking after you move out home and are forced to make your (more often than not poorly cooked) meals. Then, you start longing for when your mom used to make fideo after school and start to understand the amount of time and love she put on you, and it makes you appreciate her meals even that much more when you get to visit her as an adult. Same thing with art.

Contact Info:

• Website: https://rabbitprintart.carrd.co
• Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/rabbit.print
• Twitter: https://twitter.com/TheRabbitPrint
• Other: Email: [email protected] My Shop (Buy My Work!): https://rabbitprint.bigcartel.com