We recently connected with Sutichai Savathasuk and have shared our conversation below.

Sutichai, thanks for taking the time to share your stories with us today I’m sure there have been days where the challenges of being an artist or creative force you to think about what it would be like to just have a regular job. When’s the last time you felt that way? Did you have any insights from the experience?

As someone who straddles both worlds—a steady day job as an engineer and the unpredictable nightlife of a spoken-word artist and comedian—I’ve wondered, “Wouldn’t it be easier just to choose one?” But every time I seriously consider it, I remember that I’m not built to be one thing. My whole life is a balancing act of duality, and I’ve found fulfillment—not happiness, but fulfillment—in accepting that both sides of me are essential to my identity.

Happiness is fleeting. It’s nice to have, but it’s a feeling that comes and goes. Fulfillment, on the other hand, has weight. It grounds you. That’s what I’m chasing. I’m okay with where I’m at—an engineer by day and an artist by night—because both are part of my core selfhood. Both are careers that I’m constantly growing and evolving. My artist job is about building connections, while my day job is about literally building buildings. One job feeds my curiosity for logic and problem-solving; the other nourishes my soul. Both are fulfilling in ways that balance me. I’d feel incomplete without either.

That being said, I’m also human. I’ve gone through several life crises and seriously questioned this balance. Some weeks I’ve felt every single plate I was spinning might fall. My week could look like 40 hours of work at my engineering job, 2 poetry performances back-to-back, 3 deadlines for creative projects, and still make time for relationships, errands, and sleeping (which I was definitely failing at). I’d come home from a performance at 11:30 PM, sit on the edge of my bed with my phone in my hand, and doomscroll through IG reels with my calendar in the back of my mind of a never-ending to-do list. The sheer weight of it all made me think, “Maybe I should just give up. Work my 9-to-5, come home, and watch TV.”

But that thought didn’t sit right with me. Because the truth is, I know I’m not meant for “normal.” I’m not meant to watch life pass by—I’m meant to live it. I’m meant to create. The grind is worth it because I get to stand behind a mic and share stories that reach someone who needs to hear them. I see strangers nodding, snapping, or laughing with me—proof that something I created resonates beyond me. I’m not in it for fame or to “make it big.” I’m in it for the people—the little moments where someone tells me after a show, “Hey, I really needed that.” I can’t walk away from that kind of fulfillment.

And it’s probably a toxic relationship I have with the grind that I can’t just recommend for everybody. I don’t want to come here and glorify the hustle of overworking and burning out, but if I ever got to the point where my art could fully sustain me financially, I don’t know if I’d leave engineering behind. I value stability, and while my art fills my spirit, financial security lets me breathe. I’m not trying to be a starving artist just for the aesthetic. I’m trying to live long enough to create all that my mind has envisioned. At the tip of the iceberg, I’d love to design my own board game or create an escape room someday, but I will try my best to pace myself. These dreams will come, but I am playing the long game. I want to open up spaces for other artists to thrive and to have their voices heard. I want to help others feel seen in the way I’ve been seen on stage.

So, yeah. I think about what it would be like to have a “regular” life. But then I remembered that I wouldn’t be me without all of it. The drive, the heart, the exhaustion, the fulfillment—it’s all part of the process. I’m not choosing between them. I’m embracing both.

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

If you’re reading this, welcome. I’m glad you’re here. I’d describe as a “multi-hyphenate human being” or a “Swiss-army knife as a person.” I’m an engineer, spoken-word poet, comedian, 3D-printing enthusiast, CAD modeler, and typewriter poet-for-hire. Everything I do is rooted in one core value: creation. Whether I’m constructing a building, crafting a story, or creating something tangible from a wild idea, I’m always in the process of bringing something new into the world.

For much of my life, I stayed rooted in the STEM world. Engineering was my path for structure, stability, and logic. But after venturing outside my bubble, traveling to new spaces, and standing behind a mic at an open mic night for the first time, my world expanded in ways I never expected. I didn’t just want to build physical structures anymore—I wanted to build connections. So, I did both. I exist in both universes: the logical engineer and the heart-driven creative. People often think they must choose between being one thing or another, but I believe you can be it all. My story is living proof of that. And I want to cross worlds into the minds of others.

These days, I create in many different ways. Some of my main creative services include:

1. Typewriter Poetry On Demand
Imagine you’re walking through a market, festival, or event, and you see someone with a typewriter ready to turn your life, your story, or even a fleeting feeling into poetry. That’s me. For pop-up shops, weddings, corporate events, and special celebrations, I create one-of-a-kind, personalized typewriter poems. I ask a few questions, listen deeply, and then turn your story into a tangible, heartfelt piece of art. The wildest part? It’s all made on the spot. This experience often becomes something much deeper. People come seeking a fun, cute poem and leave feeling heard, understood, and even healed in some cases. There’s something about having your story captured in words that makes people feel seen.
Who is this for?
• People looking for personalized gifts or keepsakes
• Wedding planners or event organizers who want something memorable for guests
• Companies or corporate events looking for an interactive, meaningful experience

2. Spoken-Word Poetry & Comedy Performances
If you’ve ever been to an open mic night, you know it’s an intersection where the rawest, most authentic stories come to life. I thrive in that space. Whether I’m on stage as a poet or a comedian, I’m there to entertain, provoke thought, and connect with people. I perform regularly at well-known Los Angeles spaces like Sunday Jump, Da Poetry Lounge, Tuesday Night Cafe, and Palms Up Academy. From raw spoken-word pieces to goofy comedic bits, I believe in showing up as my fullest self—confidently awkward, unapologetically goofy, and always honest.
Who is this for?
• Open mics, live performances, and creative showcases
• Event organizers looking for dynamic and engaging performers
• Anyone seeking a space where laughter, vulnerability, and connection intersect

3. Custom CAD Modeling & 3D Printing
This one comes straight from my engineering brain. If you’ve ever had a wild idea for a product, cosplay accessory, prototype, or piece of decor, but you didn’t know how to bring it to life, I’m the person you want to call. Using these CAD (computer-aided design) software with 10+ years of experience, I can take your idea from sketch to 3D model to physical reality. This service is perfect for people looking for one-of-a-kind custom creations that don’t exist anywhere else. From a rough idea on paper to a physical product you can hold, I can help you get there.
Who is this for?
• Creators, cosplayers, and makers looking for custom pieces
• People with product ideas who want to prototype a design
• Businesses looking for custom signage, decor, or unique branded pieces

4. Audio/Visual Tech, Production Assistance, and Background Acting
Even in the art world, duality is core to my being as I thrive in the spotlight as well as in the shadows. I have experience working behind the scenes on productions as an A/V tech and production assistant, handling sound, lighting, and environmental design at small to mid-sized venues. It’s not always glamorous, but it’s essential work that makes the “magic” of live shows possible. I’ve also directed music videos, worked on soundboards, and assisted in production design. If you’ve got a creative project in the works—whether it’s a play, concert, or short film—I’m down to support it. I know how hard it is to get a project off the ground, and I want to be a part of helping artists thrive.
Who is this for?
• Event organizers and theater directors looking for production support
• Artists, musicians, and creatives looking for production help on short films, music videos, or live performances
• Anyone looking for an extra hand on set to help things run smoothly

5. Wedding Officiation Services
Yep, I’m ordained! A young, bored Chai decided to become an ordained minister because why not? I officiate weddings that feel as unique as the love being celebrated. I know how important it is for a wedding ceremony to feel personal instead of a copy-pasted script pulled from the internet. I work with couples to create a ceremony reflecting their love story, personalities, and shared dreams. Whether it’s heartfelt and sentimental or light and humorous, I’m here to help couples feel commemorated and celebrated.
Who is this for?
• Couples looking for an officiant who brings humor, warmth, and personality to the ceremony
• Couples seeking a non-traditional, non-denominational wedding officiant

My heart sets me apart. People come to me—whether it’s a poem, a print, or production support—and leave with something more. I’m not here to “perform a service.” I’m here to connect, collaborate, and create something that lasts. That might be a one-of-a-kind typewriter poem that someone has kept on their fridge for years. It might be helping an artist bring their vision to life with a perfectly crafted 3D-printed prop. Or it might be collaborating with someone to co-write a project that neither of us could have made alone. Whatever I’m doing, I’m fully present in it. My goal is to uplift, inspire, and co-create alongside others.

I’m most proud of being multi-hyphenated, a person who isn’t just “one” but many. I’m living proof you don’t have to fit into one category. You can be it all. I’m an engineer and a creative. I’m an introvert who loves public speaking. I’m serious about my work, but I’m not afraid to look silly. I’m also proud of my book, “How Chai Tea is Made,” a collection of poetry that spans my journey through childhood, mental health, community, and artistry. It’s available on Amazon, but honestly, you’ll probably catch me with copies in the trunk of my car.

How You Can Collaborate With Me
If you’re reading this, first of all, thank you. Second, if you have a wild idea—a project, a dream, or just a seed of inspiration—I’m here for it. I love collaborating with other artists and creators. I’m open to co-writing, co-working, and co-creating. If you’ve got a project you need help on, hit me up. I’m ready to bring my problem-solving skills, creative energy, and steady hands to help you see it through. Whether you need a poet, a performer, a production assistant, or someone to sit with you and brainstorm the impossible—I’m down. Let’s create something unforgettable together.

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

Joy is a revolutionary act, especially in a system that demands endless productivity and glorifies suffering. Choosing to create—especially as a marginalized voice—is one of the most radical things you can do. For queer and trans people, for BIPOC, for neurodivergent folks like me, just existing authentically in a world that tries to erase or diminish you is revolutionary. To create joy, laugh, build, dream—these are acts of resistance. It’s why I lean into joy as much as I can. The high ground is always grander than the view from below, and I choose to create from that higher place.

One of the most rewarding parts of being an artist is the feeling of being seen and helping others feel seen, too. Film and media are powerful mirrors for this. I think about the first time I saw stories that reflected parts of my identity on screen. Films like “Everything, Everywhere All at Once” or the stop-motion masterpiece “Mary and Max” were monumental for me. To see characters navigating autism, family trauma, breaking intergenerational curses in the AAPI diaspora, and the small, unspoken experiences that make us human—did something to me. It’s like a weight you didn’t know you were carrying gets lifted. When you see yourself reflected back, it’s more than validation—it’s freedom.

Representation in media shapes how society views us, but it also shapes how we view ourselves. For those of us in underrepresented communities, media often becomes the first place we feel seen. I think about that when I stand on stage as a spoken-word poet or comedian. I think about who’s in the audience and who might be hearing someone like me for the first time. I hope, in some small way, they feel seen, too.

But on a more personal level, the most rewarding part of being an artist is simple: it’s turning imagination into reality. It’s taking something that lived in your mind—a loose idea, an intangible feeling—and making it real. That could be a show, a poem, a joke, or a building. The idea that something once invisible can become tangible and shareable is magic.

Being an artist isn’t easy. But it’s honest, it’s radical, and it’s necessary. And when I think about the joy, the connection, and the shared humanity it creates, I know it’s the most rewarding thing I could ever do.

Is there something you think non-creatives will struggle to understand about your journey as a creative?

As someone who once lived firmly on the “non-creative” side of things, I understand the mindset. I grew up believing that art was secondary—something nice to have but not essential. Why fund it? Why prioritize it? But if you stop and look around, you’ll see that we are constantly surrounded by the arts. From the design of your phone to the layout of your favorite café to the shows and music that get you through your hardest days—art is everywhere. It’s in every detail of the world we live in.

The arts have given me more empathy, patience, and appreciation for the world. Life feels fuller, more colorful, when you start to notice the small details. There’s a quote I hold close: “It’s ordinary to love the beautiful, but it’s beautiful to love the ordinary.” And that’s what being a creative does—it teaches you to see beauty in the ordinary. I’ve found myself noticing the smallest, most overlooked details in both my engineering work and my creative work.

For instance, as an engineer, I think a lot about lighting—something most people only notice when it’s bad. But when you pay attention, it’s magical. I notice how spaces are lit, how light bends, the warmth of a bulb, the way it casts shadows, the precision of a lighting fixture. I know how much effort went into the placement of every point-source luminaire to make sure a space feels welcoming, focused, or dramatic. When I see my contribution to a space, I feel that same spark of creative pride I get after writing a poem or performing on stage. The same sense of fulfillment exists on both sides of my identity as an engineer and an artist.

This perspective—this ability to see meaning in the small things—was something I learned from living among creatives. People outside of STEM showed me how to hold space for emotions and ambiguity. They taught me that not every solution is “efficient,” and not every answer is “logical”—but that doesn’t make it any less valuable. It’s why I love existing at the intersection of art and logic, storytelling and structure. There’s art in everything we do.

I think about Robin Williams’ words from Dead Poets Society often:
“We don’t read and write poetry because it’s cute. We read and write poetry because we are members of the human race. And the human race is filled with passion. And medicine, law, business, engineering—these are noble pursuits and necessary to sustain life. But poetry, beauty, romance, love—these are what we stay alive for.”

No matter who you are, I believe there’s a creative spark in you. It may look different from mine, but it’s there. Too often, people think creativity is only for “artists” or “kids,” but I disagree. Creativity isn’t reserved for children, and it doesn’t have to be confined to art galleries or stages. It’s in the way you approach a problem, in how you make something better than it was before.

So, I say this to anyone reading: Create something. It doesn’t have to be perfect. It doesn’t have to be seen. But make something you care about—something that makes you feel. These aren’t silly pursuits, they are essential. It’s not about being “productive.” It’s about being alive.

Contact Info:

• Website: https://www.mrchaitea.com/
• Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/mr.chai_tea
• Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/@mr.chaitea839
• Yelp: https://www.yelp.com/user_details?userid=gMp_NsEAHank-BkO_AVslA
• Other: https://morty.app/@yay842 (like Yelp, but for escape rooms) https://maps.app.goo.gl/8DJiRte2HsLs1ECG9 (map of boba shops I visited) https://www.printables.com/@yay842_440078 (3D-models I designed that can be downloaded for 3D-printing) https://a.co/d/01rjR3KJ (my book, “How Chai Tea is Made”)

Image Credits
Sutichai Savathasuk