See more of my work: #sharpiescribblestyle on Google Images or IG. @steveemig43 on Instagram or Pinterest. I have a fan page on Facebook: Steve Emig The White Bear, or just Steve Emig (in Richmond) on Facebook.
I just figured out that in the last year, I drew, and sold, 38 large, 18" X 24", original drawings, 28 of those I sold for $100 or more, a couple sold for $250. I drew 9 smaller drawings that I sold, with prices ranging from $25 to $40. I don't really show art much, I SELL artwork. My situation is far from optimal right now, but considering I started literally without a dime, and I lived in the woods in a tent for over nine months while making and selling art, and also during three months of recent homelessness here in Richmond, selling that much art is one hell of an accomplishment. Keep in mind that my large drawings take a full week or more to draw, 35 to 45 working hours each.
It's a long story, but an injury in California in 1998 led to taxi driving in 1999 and on into the early and mid 2000's. Technology that I didn't expect, in the form of computer dispatching, completely ruined the taxi industry, and I wound up working 80-100 hours a week just to survive, while living in my taxi. I got fat, I got sick, I got burned out, and eventually I simply couldn't make enough to pay the $600 a week taxi lease and then put $300 in gas in my cab each week. I dropped off my keys on Sunday at the taxi office, and walked out onto the streets or Orange County, California in November of 2007, in such bad health that I was expecting to die within a few weeks. I wound up surviving, and living a year on the streets, panhandling to survive, and unable to create any real stream of income.
I took my family up on the offer to fly me to the Greensboro area of North Carolina, where they had wound up living (We're originally from Ohio). In the move, I lost all my BMX magazines, raw video footage, video masters that I had produced, and copies of all the hundreds of poems I'd written. North Carolina turned into ten years of living Hell. I couldn't get hired for any job, except taxi driver, which I did for a year. I quit after my dad had a stroke in 2012, and it was apparent he would die soon. The day of his death, I moved in with my mom. We never got along before, and it didn't get any better as time went on.
Dr. Maya Angelou drawing, which sold for $250.
By mid 2015, I had applied for over 140 jobs in the Kernersville and Winston-Salem areas of NC, over a couple of years time, and only heard from one. That was a Wendy's restaurant, which turned me down on sight. Too old? Too fat? Too many bad teeth? They never say.
The only thing that made me any money was my weird Sharpie scribble drawings. So I sat down one night at the computer, spent two hours looking at artwork online, and asked myself one question. "What could I draw, in my style, that I would want to put on my own wall?" My answer was a stencil painting of Bruce Lee, my first hero as a kid. I printed it out, drew it in my Sharpie scribble style, and taped it on my wall. I knew then that drawing people was the direction I needed to head. I drew a few more drawings, Deniro from the Taxi Driver, a BMX guy doing a lookback, a couple of skater drawings. Then I got online, showed my stuff on Facebook and my blogs, and started looking for people I could sell drawings to.
Because my mom lives in continual financial crisis, I started, quite literally, without a dime to my name. I had a place to live, free but verbally abusive and drama-filled, I had a box of Sharpies, a small sketch pad, and a refurbished HP laptop still running Windows XP in 2015. That was it. But I started showing my drawings around locally and online, and started selling drawings, large 18" X 24" ones, for $50. Those early drawings took me 18 to 22 hours each to do. I did a Go Fund Me campaign in early 2016, which basically turned into an order system, and I made $1,000 over a four month period from drawing. I've been drawing nearly every day since.
Selfie in front of Earshot Music above. Yeah, I'm old, fat, and ugly, but I draw cool shit. Below: My drawings on the main wall in Earshot Music at the show.
After getting bit by new technology in the taxi industry, and getting seriously into blogging after I landed in NC, I knew this old dog needed to learn new tricks to make a living again. So I started self-educating on YouTube, with free ebooks, and online articles. I learned how blogging works, what it's good for, and why few people actually make money from the blogs themselves. I also learned that blogs are good for building a following, which I inadvertently did at first, and then worked at it, with my old school BMX story blogs. Basically, I did memoir blogs about my days in BMX freestyle when it was just becoming a sport and industry. My BMX blog following is where most of my early drawing orders came from. That was a key factor.
As time went by, I found the handful of people who understood how the internet and social media were changing the business world. Seth Godin taught me a ton through his talks and books. Mitch Joel's books added to that. Then I heard Mitch mention some guy named Gary Vaynerchuk in an interview, and I consume a ton of his content these days. I also produce a ton of content, text and photos, because I didn't have a camera or phone to make video content.
I gave away my stories of BMX days, I wrote about other topics I'm into, like macroeconomics and futurist thinking. I became a "content producer," giving stuff away fro free and building a reputation and good will online. Then I started showing my drawings to my Facebook friends, and orders started to trickle in, and then come steadily after a while.
By late spring 2017, my mom and I were arguing more than ever. When I drew a picture, sold it, and got paid, I usually spent a few buck on some sweet food and a couple art supplies. Then my mom immediately created a crisis of some sort that "needed" every dime left from what I just made. This is a lifelong habit of hers that grew exponentially after my dad's retirement. I was never able to re-invest my money into actually building a little business. So I left June first, 2017, and moved into a patch of woods in Winston-Salem, which I knew had a good art scene. I didn't know a single person in that art scene, though.
I went to the woods with about $15 in my pocket, some clothes in a backpack, my niece's hand-me-down Dell laptop, and my art supplies. I stored the rest of my stuff in a friend's closet. I didn't go to the woods to "suck the marrow out of life" like Throeau. I went because my artwork was the only way I'd made any money in North Carolina, and I bet everything on my ability to turn it into a viable living eventually. There was no Plan B. Either I died, or I succeeded at some point. I'm still working on that, it's not an actual living income yet. But I'm well on my way.
I built a lean-to and slept in the rain and or chill for three nights, then I met a guy who gave me a big, but kind of old, tent. I set up the tent in the woods, and slept there at night, through rain and crazy Carolina thunderstorms. I even found a baby snake in my tent once. I spent my days scraping up money by pushing shopping carts for quarters at Aldi's grocery store, and drawing either at McDonald's or a library. I heard about Earshot Music from some hippies at McDonald's, and Phred and Jane, the owner and the art director, liked my work, and put a couple drawings on the wall right away. Soon Jane asked if I could do 8 pieces for a full on show. I spent September and October drawing those pieces, all music related. I also got arrested for "trespassing" in Aldi's during that time. A cop working security told me to leave the property one day, and I did. But I was hungry, so I walked back in and bought a pack of 12 donuts. I got arrested for that, and spent three days in jail. To make my jail experience more interesting, they put a federal inmate, headed back to the pen on a parole violation, in my cell. He'd been in a holding cell all day, and was not a happy camper. That was interesting.
This is me holding the drawing of legendary BMX pro (and my old roommate) Brian Foster. I did this one for Chad at Powers Bike Shop here in Richmond, shortly after landing here by accident. Or was it fate?
I stayed with my mom for a month after getting out of jail, the arguing started up again, and I moved back to the woods in the winter. My art show at Earshot Music gave me an opportunity. I used the show to jump start sales, and started selling drawings for $120 on a regular basis. I've been drawing and selling my large drawings, which have become more detailed, and now take 35 to 45 hours each, ever since. I struggled to survive, getting more and more determined along the way. My arrest charges were not dropped, which seemed odd. I did part of my community service, while drawing all day long to make food money. I couldn't pay the fine.
I also went to the First Friday Art Hop on Trade Street in Winston in November of 2017, met a few people, and made inroads there. Rachel at Designs, Vines, and Wines really liked my stuff, and put some up in her studio and really helped promote me. I didn't sell a lot there, but I became known in the Trade Street art scene of Winston-Salem. My Michael Jackson drawing was in a juried show at Delurk Gallery thanks to Rachel, and she got my Maya Angelou drawing on stage at a gala for Dr. Angelou's 90th birthday celebration. Maya Angelou lived in Winston-Salem for the last decades of her life, and I met her niece and archivist at the birthday gala.
Tupac Shakur drawing.
Through all of this, I was writing this blog, which bounces from old stories from my BMX days, to economics and futurist thinking, to art and random ideas. I've been blogging since 2007, and I've had about 30 different blogs, four of which drew good followings. But I thought it was time to bring all my ideas into a single blog. So I started this blog in late June, 2017, about three weeks after moving into the woods. I've written thousands of blog posts. I'm pretty good at it, and people actually read my blog. I'm creeping up on 55,000 page views as I write this right now. My top three earlier blogs had over 220,000 total page views in their time.
But in the Spring of 2017, my blog came to the attention of some of the good ol' boys who run Winston. And they didn't like it. My views on economics, and talk of a recession I saw coming, didn't jibe with their Conservative Republican views on Trump's economy, apparently. In addition, my blog got a lot of the organic internet traffic when people searched "Winston-Salem," and they didn't like having a homeless guy "representing our city," as I actually heard them say a couple of nights while standing near my tent. Somehow it was my fault that their internet and social media game sucked.
By late May 2017, I was doing a drawing a week that I was being paid for, making $500 or so a month. The good ol' boys were pissed about me blogging, and my new court date came up. Since I hadn't completed my "first offense program," I got my sentence for my very first EVER (I'm 52) criminal offenses, 2nd degree Trespassing and Resisting Arrest (I turned away when the officer grabbed me from behind). I got a $632 in fines and fees due in 30 days, 50 more hours of community service in 60 days, AND 30 days in jail, suspended sentence, if I didn't complete those. I don't know about you, but that seems like a bit much for a minor first offense by a 52 year old guy. Like I said, they REALLY did not like me blogging.
Things really came to a head on the night of May 14th, 2017. I walked out to my tent, 50 yards into the woods far behind a park. I laid down and got into my sleeping covers. I soon heard guys walking towards my tent. For the next hour, while laying in my tent, several men stamped around my tent, at least 8 to 10 guys, some saying they had baseball bats and wanted to beat the fuck out of me if I didn't stop blogging about the economy and stuff. I told them I was going to keep blogging, it was (and still is) my First Amendment right to free speech, and it's a subject I've studied my whole adult life. When they said they were going to kick in the tent and "teach me a lesson," I said, "Do it." And I just lay there waiting. They didn't know what to do. Apparently they'd never seen anyone stand their ground (OK, I was laying down) to a Carolina lynch mob before. A storm was rolling in, and eventually they left without physically attacking me, just before the rain began.
My first drawing of The Notorious B.I.G., one of my favorites of all of those I've done.
I tried to sell as much art as I could to pay my fine, which I got a 30 day extension on. Once I knew I could manage the fine, I planned to knock out the community service. During that same time, everything at Rachel's studio, most of my art, just stopped selling. It appeared someone had put pressure on her to not let me pay my fine by selling art. I still sold some elsewhere, but it was just paying for food, bus fare, and necessities. As the clock ticked down, and I didn't have the money to pay the fine, I realized that there was no reason to stay in such a toxic environment. Why make art in a place that actually hated artists, and especially writers. I spent most of my adult life in Southern California. I knew that most of the country does not operate by North Carolina good ol' boy rules. So I left.
I planned to take a bus to Chicago to stay with a Facebook friend and old school BMXer for a bit. They day before I left, I finished a commission drawing for $120, and told the buyer I needed to get paid quick because I was leaving the area. I never heard from him, he just ghosted on me. So I went to Greyhound anyway, with about $70 to my name. I asked how close to Chicago that would get me. After 20 minutes of typing, the girl said I could get to Richmond Virginia, a city I'd never been to before, and knew nothing about. I rolled into the Richmond Greyhound station in early August, planning to get paid for that drawing, get a bus ticket, and move on to Chicago. I never heard from that guy who ordered the drawing, so I just started living on the streets of Richmond, and working to make a name for my self as an artist here. I had about $3 to my name when I got here. I left about $1900 worth of art in Winston-Salem (gallery prices), that I know I'll never see a dime from.
I started seeing all the murals around town. "Dang, there's a lot of art here," I thought. Then I learned there's a huge art scene here, or rather, a collection of many scenes. Then I connected with an old friend from the BMX world, Steve Crandall, who I didn't realize lived here, and started meeting others. I'm planning on staying here in Richmond, and re-establish myself, then I'll figure out what to do at that point. This is a cool city, the more I get to know it.
It's been a really tough year since that first art show at Earshot Music. I'm in a new city, one I'd never been to before showing up at the Greyhound station. I've sold some artwork. My goal is to start selling enough, and buy and sell other stuff (legal stuff, like flipping thrift store or garage sale finds), to rent a "cheap" motel room, and stabilize my life. Once I get to that point, and have a little breathing room, I can start thinking about longer term plans.
This is Erin, who her mom said was ""over the moon" after getting this Lana Del Rey drawing I did for her 16th birthday. Erin's mom is Winston-Salem journalist Lisa O'Donnell, who did this artist profile on me for that show art Earshot Music. Big thanks Lisa for all your help!
I just started an original art & zines buy/sell/trade/ group on Facebook for Richmond area artists to sell their work. It's a beginning. But the simple fact is, through all that crazy drama and day to day survival crap, I built a small business actually selling art. OK, it's not an official business earning me a decent living yet, but it's a sprout of a business. I didn't have a dime to start. I lived in the woods in a tent for over 9 months, through the coldest winter in recent memory in Winston-Salem. Now I'm on the streets here for another three months, working to get my name and work known in a bigger metro region, and get my stuff selling consistently again. Imagine what I could do if I could actually raise some money and make prints of my work, rather than working all week to sell a single original drawing.
I'm looking forward to the next year, and what I can accomplish now that I'm in a place with a huge art community and thriving BMX bike scene, which is my background.
To all the artists reading this: You can sell art. But you have to work at it. You can build a business out of it. It's not easy, you'll have to learn new skills, and work hard and work consistently. Find your niche, plug away at it, use the internet, social media, my new FB group, and whatever else you can to make it happen. If I could sell nearly 50 original pieces through all this drama, what can you do? Let's do some cool stuff in late 2018 and 2019. Sound like a plan?
My Facebook group is called Richmond Original Art & Zines buy/sell/trade group. Join up.
I'd like to give a huge thanks to my friends Rick and Ben in NC, Phred at Earshot, Jane Buck, Reece Johnson, L.B. the Poet, Scotty Zabielski, Steve Crandall, Chad Powers, Sam Weber, Barspinner Ryan Brennan, and everyone who's helped me out here in Richmond.
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