I never imagined that my life would lead me here—standing at a workbench, carving wood, painting until 2 a.m., and trying to turn a love for creating into forward motion.

Originally from Arizona, I grew up moving around a lot. Having to say goodbye to every friend group I had ever made at a young age, I felt as if I could never build an identity. With constant change in my life, I learned to find my own ways to entertain myself through discovering different creative avenues. I gravitated toward woodworking and fine arts.

In every high school and college course I was enrolled in, you could find me daydreaming and doodling in the back corner. It’s obvious I wasn’t a scholar—I had no interest in learning things that I couldn't give a damn about. Even my art classes were boring because I realized I just didn’t like being told what to do, especially when it came to what I had to create. Creation, to me, has always been something that comes from a void. I can’t sit and force myself to think of what to make; the idea comes to me like a wave. I’ll be fishing one morning, and then suddenly an idea just hits me, and I have to go home and sketch it out.

I’m a proud veteran, and toward the end of my service in November 2020, I was involved in what should have been a "fatal car accident." Waking up in a hospital not knowing if I'd ever be able to walk again changed me. I learned I had to look inward and find a reason to keep going. I value my independence, and to have that stripped away in an instant is crushing. Going through years of recovery, I learned to appreciate the parts of life that constantly go unnoticed. Now, colors seem more vivid, animals seem more familiar, and the universe just clicks.

While in recovery, I went back to school believing that if I worked hard enough, kept pushing, and earned my degree, I could build a better future. School went exactly as I expected. What should have been four years became six: six years struggling, having setbacks, doubt, and doing everything I could just to get a piece of paper. In October 2024, I finally earned my four-year degree in Psychology. Psychology is the subject chosen by people who have been through the fire. That stereotype is accurate as hell!

Then came another fight: finding a job. Like so many people, I've discovered that having a degree doesn't necessarily mean having a defined path. Finding work that fits who I am, what I've been through, and what I'm capable of has become much more frustrating than I expected. And sometimes, the hardest part isn't the struggle itself; it's wondering whether the people closest to you believe you'll make it.

When you lack support from your family, it creates an intense frustration that eventually molds itself into drive. There have been times when I've questioned myself—times when it would have been easier to quit than to keep trying. But quitting has never really been my thing; it’s always been getting it done and then complaining about it for a few hours afterward. So, I started creating.

One of the coolest experiences I’ve had is taking the imagination of others and incorporating it into my work. I can’t tell you how many of you have given me ideas that I never would have thought of. Art—to me—is a collaboration. It’s a vision shared between people who express their emotions through how they interpret a piece. When AI came around, God, that pissed me off—as it did many other artists. AI was supposed to make our lives easier, but instead, it came in and took so much from me and other artists out there. That’s why I will never use it for my business, and I will call out others who try to pass its creations off as "human-made."

Through my life's journey up to now, I can tell you a few things: if you’re into creating things too and believe progress is impossible, ask yourself, "What am I comparing this 'progress' to?" Stop caring about the lack of attention, the ridicule, the criticism... it doesn’t matter. Make it for you and keep your soul happy. The laws of the universe say that if you make enough work, at least one piece will get you noticed. I can make 50 pieces that I love and they all get ignored when I post them. But I’ll tell you this: the one piece you can’t stand, and that your inner critic hates more than you do, will be the first one to sell at a show. Keep going.

-Joe Duvall