We recently connected with Sharell Katelynn and have shared our conversation below.
Sharell, thanks for taking the time to share your stories with us today It’s always helpful to hear about times when someone’s had to take a risk – how did they think through the decision, why did they take the risk, and what ended up happening. We’d love to hear about a risk you’ve taken.
I’m pretty risk-averse for someone who’s taken a lot of them. But I guess my fear of being stagnant outweighs my fear of change.
My biggest recent risk? Walking away from a decade-long hairstyling career—with zero plan. The job was getting harder, the world more expensive, and my body was throwing in the towel. I didn’t know what was next, I just knew that chapter was closed. People still ask if I miss it. I don’t. That season is complete. But that doesn’t mean I was calm about the unknown that followed.
Turns out, figuring out what you don’t want is way easier than figuring out what you do want. I found myself in a season with nothing but space to answer that question. From the outside, it looked dreamy: “You get to do whatever you want!” But in reality, it was disorienting. I was stressed about my next move and equally guilty for having the privilege to pause. No roadmap, just vibes. The closest guide I had was Eat, Pray, Love—and let’s be honest, that’s not exactly a strategic career plan.
I always knew I wanted to be an artist, but like many of us, I grew up in a culture that labeled that as a hobby, not a career. Still, I decided to try anyway. I dove into the chaotic world of “how to make money with your art”—a mess of YouTube videos, conflicting advice, and zero clarity. I had to go beyond “what job do I want?” and ask, “what kind of life do I want?”
That’s when I realized: I need time freedom, location freedom, and financial freedom. Oh, and I can’t work for other people—it’s never gone well. So that narrowed it down.
Which brings me to now: I’m building a business through art licensing and an online shop where I sell limited-edition relief prints. It’s a risk, but it’s one that feels aligned with the kind of life I’m trying to create.
Sharell, 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 like to tell people I’m basically an 80-year-old man at heart. Give me a good scotch, a scratched-up record, and some homemade sourdough, and I’m happy. I’m drawn to anything analog, and that love for tradition and craftsmanship is at the core of my brand.
In a world dominated by digital art, I take pride in the fact that all my work starts traditionally. Relief printing is basically just glorified stamp-making: I carve my designs into linoleum, roll on some ink, and press the image onto paper by hand. Once the print exists in the real world—complete with all its charming imperfections—I scan it and digitize it in a way that keeps that handmade quality intact. The result? Art that feels cozy, lived-in, and a little rough around the edges (in the best way).
I grew up in Oregon and now live in Seattle, surrounded by landscapes that have always inspired me—trees, flowers, mountains. You’ll see those themes come through in my work. I’m all about creating calming, comforting pieces that fit seamlessly into a cozy space. I even have an Instagram series called “A Cozy Day” that’s basically an excuse to show off my love for creating a warm, inviting atmosphere—both in my art and in my life. (Ask any of my friends, and they’ll tell you my space is basically a cozy haven.)
What sets me apart? I think it’s the blend of old-school craftsmanship with modern versatility. My art has that human touch you can’t fake—a tactile quality that makes it feel more like a story than just a design. Whether it’s licensing my patterns or selling limited print runs, I want my work to remind people that not everything has to be perfect to be beautiful.
What do you think is the goal or mission that drives your creative journey?
Right now, my biggest goal is to become nomadic. I’ve always wanted to travel, but in my twenties, I was so wrapped up in my hairstyling career that I didn’t really get the chance (funny how life works). Now that I’ve hit the reset button, I’m determined not to settle for the standard “work 50 weeks for 2 weeks of vacation” routine.
I don’t just want to vacation—I want to actually live in different places, experience other cultures, and break out of the basic American lifestyle. My creative journey is all about building the kind of freedom that lets me do that. Art licensing and my online shop give me the flexibility to take my work anywhere, and that’s the dream I’m chasing right now.
How can we best help foster a strong, supportive environment for artists and creatives?
Are we going to talk about AI art? No? Yes? Okay, just for a second.
I’m not scared of AI art. Honestly, I think our society needs art—way more than some people realize (looking at you, old men in boardrooms). Art will always find a way to seep into our lives, no matter how many algorithms try to replicate it. As artists, we just have to stay on our toes and refuse to be pushed aside. We can’t give up. We have to do everything in our power to get our work out there, to be heard, and to take up space. We have more influence than people think—we just have to claim it.
But more importantly, I think society needs to recognize that everyone is inherently creative. It’s not some rare trait reserved for a select few—it’s just that some of us are more willing to tap into it. A thriving creative ecosystem means encouraging that spark in everyone, making space for exploration and expression without gatekeeping or undervaluing it. Art isn’t going anywhere. We just need to keep making noise to remind the world why it matters.
Contact Info:
- Website: https://www.sharellkatelynn.com/
- Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/sharellkatelynn/
- Other: Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/sharellkatelynn/
Tiktok: https://www.tiktok.com/@sharellkatelynn
Substack: https://sharellkatelynn.substack.com/