We recently connected with Sylvia Blanco and have shared our conversation below.
Hi Sylvia, thanks for joining us today. Can you open up about a risk you’ve taken – what it was like taking that risk, why you took the risk and how it turned out?
The biggest risk I ever took was betting on myself at a time when I didn’t fully believe in who I was. Growing up, I drew a lot, but no one encouraged it and I didn’t think anything special of it. I didn’t take my first art class until my senior year of high school, and then I stopped creating for almost a decade.
In my 30s, during a painful breakup and a moment where I felt like I had to rebuild my entire life, I began painting as a form of therapy, not with the intention of becoming an artist, but simply to cope and reconnect with myself. That small act changed everything. Painting felt natural, grounding, and strangely familiar, like something inside me clicked into place
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I even took my first risk to rent an art studio before I ever called myself an artist, and while I was in the middle of trying to get my own place. I had no business renting a studio, but it was a pull that was stronger than logic. I would leave work and go paint for hours just to feel grounded. People noticed and asked me to paint things for them, and every commission became part of my healing and learning.
People started asking for small commissions. I charged very little because I treated each project as practice and chance to learn, grow, and build my supplies. Painting my first mural in 2014 changed everything. After meeting other artists and discovering opportunities, I painted my first mural and instantly fell in love. That’s when I realized I wanted to take this seriously.
But taking it seriously meant I had to believe in myself, something that, at that time, felt completely foreign. I struggled with low confidence for years, yet for some reason, this was the one area where I felt a strong internal pull. I knew I had to change my mindset and the limiting beliefs holding me back. I realized I wanted this life the colors, the walls, the community, the purpose. But wanting it meant believing in myself, and that was the scariest part.
In 2016, one day I was thinking to myself I would quit my job “in a year,” a few days later I got fired unexpectedly. Instead of seeing it as a setback, I decided it was my sign. Five days after I said I wanted to pursue art full-time, the universe forced my hand. I took the leap of faith right then. It was terrifying , I had no financial safety net, no degree, and no guarantees just a deep belief that this was my path.
That risk became the foundation of my entire career. Since then, I’ve been self-employed as an artist, painting murals across Houston and beyond, I created my own studio, working with festivals, nonprofits, businesses, and communities. I’ve opened spaces, shared what I’ve learned with other artist by offering support, tools and encouragement so they build their confidence, I’ve built a recognizable style, and I am actively creating a life I once only dreamed about. I am so grateful and I will never take this for granted.


Sylvia, love having you share your insights with us. Before we ask you more questions, maybe you can take a moment to introduce yourself to our readers who might have missed our earlier conversations?
My name is Sylvia Blanco, a self-taught artist based in Houston, originally born in Mexico. I became an artist by accident, starting out when a friend gave me a paint set during a tough time. Once I discovered painting, it was like love at first sight, and it turned into a journey of both personal expression and professional path that has shaped who I am today.
My work developed in two directions at the same time. My commission work and my personal work.
In my commissions, my focus is on connection and intention. I take the time to understand my clients, who they are, what matters to them, and the emotions or stories they want represented. Every mural or artwork is designed to feel personal and meaningful, whether for a home, business, or community space. I want every client to not only love their piece, but to feel seen and respected throughout the process.
Services I provide include commercial and residential murals, signage, custom paintings, portraits and pet portraits, chalk and street art, live painting, public art installations, illustrations, and I’m beginning to explore sculpture.
My personal artwork, on the other hand, is very different. It’s emotional, symbolic, and deeply inspired by my Mexican heritage. In our culture, we embrace the dualities of life and death, love and pain. We celebrate life fully, and we honor death as a natural part of our existence. That duality shows up in my art through imagery-like skulls paired with flowers, snakes that represent transformation, and animals like rats that people often overlook or reject, but which hold their own kind of wisdom and purpose. I use these symbols to explore the beauty in things that are misunderstood and to reflect the richness of embracing both the light and the dark parts of life.
Another important part of my work is giving back, whether through donating art, contributing to community projects, or supporting other artists by sharing what I’ve learned. In the end, my brand is really an extension of who I am: someone who cares deeply about creating meaningful art and connecting with people through creativity.
I think what sets me apart is the level of care, intention, and personalization I put into every project. I’m proud of the journey I’ve taken, the work I’ve built from the ground up, and the consistency that has helped me grow. And I want people to know that every piece I create, big or small is made with heart, intention, and respect for the people and spaces it’s created for.


Is there something you think non-creatives will struggle to understand about your journey as a creative?
Something non-creatives often struggle to understand about my journey is just how much work and emotional energy it takes to do this alone. I’m going to be super honest, and I promise I’m not a complaint. I’m a one-person operation, I don’t have employees, I don’t have anyone helping behind the scenes, and unless I am paying someone, every part of my business is handled by me. People usually see the final piece, but they don’t see the long days and the juggling that happens underneath it all. When I’m working on a mural or a commission, the work doesn’t stop when I leave the wall. I still have to come home and design, answer messages, manage deadlines, take care of bills and taxes, buy supplies, load and unload my car, keep up with my household, and try to support friends and family. And on top of that, social media has become part of the job, posting, documenting, engaging and all of it adds up quickly.
My creative process is very genuine, so if I’m not in the right headspace, I may not be able to design; I can’t force something that isn’t honest. That makes it even harder to balance everything, because my personal art, the work that I am dying to create, is usually the last thing on the list (reason they take months, or years to be completed). I get to it only after everyone else’s needs are met and the to-do list gets checked off.
Another thing non-creatives may not see is how much behind-the-scenes work goes into client communication. We rely on clear feedback and scheduling, because our time is limited and carefully planned. Sometimes we pour hours into designs or proposals between projects, only to be left without a response or to lose the job entirely. It’s discouraging, but it’s part of the reality and it’s something clients rarely see. I’m not complaining about this, is just how it goes when you’re building something on your own. Artists do so much more than paint. We’re managing a business, creative practice, a schedule, and a life all at once, and most of that labor is invisible


How about pivoting – can you share the story of a time you’ve had to pivot?
I’ve had to pivot more times than I can count, but one particular “plot twist” was my grand dream of having a storefront. I imagined this beautiful little space with a studio in the back, my own art and merch in the front, and me living my best artsy life. The opportunity came a bit prematurely and by that, I mean I jumped on it before my bank account had any idea what was happening. But hey, sometimes you just go for it! So, I turned this little storefront into the cutest thing ever and thought, “Here we go, world, I’m a shop owner now!” Then reality check? Well, it turns out being a muralist who’s often out in the field and running a storefront at the same time is like trying to juggle paintbrushes while riding a unicycle. It quickly stopped making sense. I tried pivoting by renting the space out for art classes and sip-and-paint events, but I still needed someone to help me manage it. And as it turns out, finding someone to babysit a studio part-time while I ran around painting murals was very difficult. In the end, I signed a one-year lease, learned a ton (like the fact that commercial insurance and internet are a whole new world of expense), and realized that a storefront really needs to generate its own revenue stream, which mine wasn’t doing. I couldn’t be three people at once, so when the lease was up, I decided to let that dream rest for a while. It was a great experience, and now I know that when the timing is right and I have more personal work ready, I can try again. But for now, I’ve learned to pivot back to what I do best and keep the juggling act a little simpler.
Contact Info:
- Website: https://blancoart.com
- Instagram: @blanco_arte



