How I Became a Professional Artist

It is said that the journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step.

Well. For me, it wasn't necessarily a step, per se... it was a Google search.

Up until my 8th grade year, I was fairly decent at art. I doodled and drew make-believe characters the same way most children do. Occasionally, I’d see an animal or cartoon character that clicked with me and spend an entire afternoon trying to recreate it with varying levels of success.

(Digital and pencil drawings from my middle school years)

Table of Contents

How It All Began

My First Paid Commission

I Should Become a What?

Am I a Professional Artist Yet?

Moving to Columbus

How It All Began

That all changed during my eight-grade year. By that point, I had reached the age where I understood the importance of asking for useful things for Christmas. The problem was, I had absolutely no clue what I actually wanted. So, like any self-respecting Gen-Z kid, I turned to Google for wisdom.

“What should I ask for Christmas this year?”

The very first suggestion?

An art kit and sketchbook.

So that’s exactly what I requested. I put in my order and let my parents (Santa) work their magic. Christmas morning arrived, and under the tree sat one of those beginner-level wooden art kits you can find at most craft stores, along with The Big Book of Realistic Drawing Secrets by Carrie Stuart and Rick Parks.

As is the case with any new toy, I immediately carried my treasures upstairs to my bedroom, shut the door behind me, and spent the entirety of winter break experimenting with every tool I could get my hands on. I learned how to use a kneaded eraser. What the difference between B and H pencils are. How to use a paper stump. All of these incredibly valuable practices opened up a whole new world of artistic possibilities for me.

To most people, these probably sound like tiny discoveries.

To me? They felt revolutionary.

The tutorial sections in that book completely opened up the world of realistic drawing for me. Suddenly, art wasn’t just some mysterious skill people were magically born with. It was something you could practice, study, and slowly get better at over time. And I wanted that. Both of my parents are deeply creative in their own ways, and I wanted to follow in their footsteps. So I started practicing in earnest, carefully studying every instruction from the artists in that book and becoming determined to learn how to draw “well”- or at least more realistically than I had before.

(Two drawings done from the tutorials in with my new tools)

Eventually, I emerged from my self-imposed winter-break art cave with drawings in hand and only one logical next step: Posting them on Facebook.

And thus began the cycle that would unknowingly shape my future career:

Create.

Post.

Repeat.

Every time I finished a drawing, I’d snap a photo, upload it to my extremely eighth-grade Facebook page, and ramble about the artistic process behind it. To my surprise, people responded: friends encouraged me, family members shared my work, classmates complimented my drawings- as someone whose love language is absolutely words of affirmation, I used every ounce of encouragement as fuel to keep creating. And eventually, I became known as “the artist girl” of my county.

Honestly? Iconic title.

My First Paid Commission

I posted so consistently that during my freshman year of high school, I received my very first paid art commission. I was over-the-moon ecstatic. Up until that point, I genuinely did not realize people could make money creating art. The “starving artist” stereotype had done quite a number on my understanding of what an art career could actually look like.

The parents of one of my classmates hired me to create an 18x24" graphite portrait of their family. Terrified of disappointing them, I drew and re-drew that piece endlessly.

I sketched.

Erased.

Started over.

Asked my mom and every artistic mentor I knew for feedback.

Obsessed over tiny details.

And when I was finally satisfied, I nervously sent the final image over for approval. They loved it. I posted the piece online, and from that point on, I became a paid artist.

The Crisp Family- 18x24" graphite | 2013

Over the course of high school, I slowly built a steady side business creating commissioned artwork for friends, family members, teachers, acquaintances, and occasionally complete strangers. My parents never made me get a traditional part-time job because, quite accidentally, I had already stumbled into one through art. The more commissions I accepted, the more deeply my identity intertwined with being an artist.

By the time college came around, I'd been elected 'most artistic' for my senior superlatives, gone to art camps, done commissioned work for private and public clients alike, and was well on my way to a career in art.

And yet, despite all of that, I still had absolutely no clue how one actually became a professional artist.

When people asked what I wanted to do after college, the assumed answer was always: “Become an artist.” And they were right. The problem?

I had no roadmap.

From social media, it seemed like successful artists simply spawned from the earth one day with 500,000 followers and thriving art businesses. I didn’t know anyone in my personal life who had pursued entrepreneurship within the fine arts world before me. The road to becoming a full-time artist felt entirely unpaved.

And honestly? It was overwhelming to even think about.

I Should Become a What...?

My commissions slowed while I attended college full-time, then picked back up during summer and winter breaks. I kept creating, posting, and experimenting, but I still felt unsure of how to turn “being artistic” into an actual sustainable career.

That changed during my junior year of college. After a particularly successful student art exhibition, the entrepreneurship professor at my alma mater approached me with a question that would completely alter the trajectory of my life. "Have you ever considered turning your art into an LLC and becoming an entrepreneur?"

A what?

“An entrepreneur,” she clarified patiently. “Someone who works for themselves and runs their own business.” She then explained that our college hosted an annual business pitch competition where students with viable business ideas could compete for startup funding.

Suddenly the road to ArtaBella Gallery opened up before me. That summer, I threw myself completely into learning the world of entrepreneurship and small business ownership. I took business planning classes, put together an extensive (72-paged) business plan, took many commissions to prove my concept, and got all of the appropriate documentation in place in preparation for the next business pitch competition.

In January 2021, I celebrated the official establishment of my very own fine arts business- ArtaBella Gallery LLC. Complete with business bank accounts, a Facebook and Instagram page, business credit cards, and a studio (in my parent's home), I felt ready to make my case.

By the time the competition rolled around, I had prepared a 20-page PowerPoint presentation complete with graphs, financial data, portfolio images, market research, and pricing structures. You see, up until that point, no fine arts business had ever won this entrepreneurship competition. And I knew I would likely be facing some deeply ingrained stereotypes about artists, money, and financial instability. So I intentionally focused part of my presentation on demonstrating supply costs vs. profit margins, online marketing potential, commission structures, and revenue opportunities within the art industry.

Three hours, and many impressive presentations, later, ArtaBella Gallery won first place.

I was awarded $7,000 in startup funding. I immediately reinvested the money back into my business, purchasing my first professional-grade art materials, including a French easel, professional grade brushes, a drafting table, shipping supplies, busuness cards, marketing materials, and so much more.

I graduated college in May of 2021 and in June, I started my first month as a full time entrepreneur.

I graduated college in May of 2021. And in June? I officially began my first month as a full-time entrepreneur and professional artist. Thankfully, because I had unknowingly spent nearly a decade building an online community around my artwork, I already had people invested in my journey. Friends and family shared my commission posts. People recommended me online. Follower numbers continued growing.

And around that same time, I accidentally stumbled into another niche entirely: Live wedding painting. I painted my first wedding in August of 2021.

Painting live at my first ever wedding

From there, everything snowballed.

Between commissioned artwork, social media marketing, online community building, and my growing career as one of West Virginia’s first live wedding painters, my art business began gaining real momentum. And because my parents generously allowed me to live rent-free during those early years, I was able to reinvest heavily into growing ArtaBella instead of immediately drowning in survival-mode expenses. That support changed my life

(The spare room my parents let me turn into a studio space)

Am I Professional Artist Yet?

One thing I struggled with during those early years, however, was calling myself a “professional artist.” What exactly qualified someone for that title? Did there exist some secret artistic council that handed out certificates once you reached a certain income bracket? Was there a magical threshold? A ceremony? An email from the art gods? I genuinely had no clue.

So for a while, I awkwardly danced around the title. But eventually, after enough commissions, enough clients, invoices, business meetings, late nights painting, taxes, stress, wins, and growth… I got tired of my own imposter syndrome.

I was getting paid thousands of dollars for artwork.

I had an LLC.

I had clients.

I had a business.

I was a professional artist, dangnabbit.

And whether or not the imaginary art gods agreed with me became entirely irrelevant. So I started calling myself one. Simple as that. And now, nearly six years later, I continue my work as a full-time artist and entrepreneur.

Moving To Columbus

Thanks to those early years of building ArtaBella, I eventually moved to Columbus, Ohio into a beautiful apartment filled to the brim with art, books, color, and furniture that brings me an absurd amount of joy. I've had the opportunity to travel across the country for live wedding paintings. I've traveled to Italy to study the art techniques of the Renaissance masters. I've painted massive murals, stunning wedding portraits, drawn up tattoo designs- heck at one point, I even got to paint a port-a-potty for someone! (long story).

And somehow, through all of it, that little eighth-grade girl asking Google what she should request for Christmas accidentally built an entire life around creativity.

I could never have predicted where this path would lead. And honestly, I think that’s part of the beauty of it. So if you are an aspiring artist, emerging creative entrepreneur, or someone trying to figure out how to turn your art into a career, let this be your reminder that there is no singular “correct” path into the art world.

Most of us are figuring it out as we go. The important thing is that you keep creating, sharing, experimenting, learning, and posting your work even when it feels terrifying.

And keep believing that there is room for your voice within the creative industry. Because there is. There absolutely is.

And for me? It all started with a sketchbook, a beginner art kit, and one surprisingly life-changing Google search.