Studio Updates

People have asked me over the years why I never stopped making art. The answer is actually pretty simple. It makes me feel better. Art has always been one of the ways I process life. When I'm painting, drawing, or working on a project, my mind slows down enough for me to sort through things. Stress feels more manageable. Problems feel less overwhelming. It gives me space to think. I've noticed that some of the happiest periods of my life have been the ones where I'm actively

When my art sales started picking up around 2015 and 2016, I started getting asked the same question: "Do you have a website?" The answer was usually no. At the time, most of my sales happened through social media, word of mouth, or in-person events. If someone wanted a painting, we'd figure it out. It wasn't the most organized system, but it worked. Still, the question kept coming up. Eventually I realized something. If people standing in front of me were asking for a websi

My first experience selling artwork happened sometime around fifth or sixth grade. I went to a small school in a small town, and the school had started selling snacks during lunch. One of my favorites was the giant Chewy SweetTarts roll. The problem was that I didn't always have money for snacks. So I started taking drawing requests from other students. For about a dollar, sometimes a dollar fifty depending on my mood, I'd draw dragons, characters, and whatever else people wa

The Zombie Set didn't start with a painting. It started in a hotel room in 2015. I was with a group of friends, and while everyone else was drinking, hanging out, and enjoying the night, I was sitting at a table with a sketchbook and a handful of pens. Every so often I'd jump into the conversation, but for the most part I was doing what I've always done when left alone with a blank page: doodling. I've always had a thing for zombies. At the same time, I absolutely hate gore m

Back in 2018, Elevated Alien was still brand new. Bell County Comic Con wasn't even on my radar until a random conversation at a convention in Corpus Christi. I was talking with an artist about his work when he mentioned an art contest he was running. At some point I showed him a few pieces of my own work and signed up. We kept talking, and eventually he asked if I had ever thought about getting a booth at a comic convention. Honestly, no. Selling artwork online was one thing

I could have used my own name, but that never felt right. I wanted something that could stand on its own. Something I could put on a website, a tax permit, a convention application, or a shirt design without feeling like it was tied to just me. For a few days, I bounced ideas around and wrote down anything that came to mind. Most of them were either forgettable, too generic, or felt forced. On the last day of brainstorming, I was hanging out at my best friend Abby's house whe

For years, Elevated Alien existed in pieces. The artwork was there. The ideas were there. The projects were there. But the website no longer reflected what the brand had become. What started as a space for artwork and prints has grown into apparel, jewelry, conventions, podcasts (coming soon), creative collaborations, and more. Eventually, the site stopped feeling like home. So I decided it was time rebuild it. Not because anything was broken, but because I wanted a space tha

Whether you're returning after a few years or somehow just found your way here, welcome. Elevated Alien has been around since 2018, but if we're being honest, it's been through a few different versions of itself over the years. Some seasons were packed with conventions, new artwork, and late nights filling orders from my living room. Other seasons were quieter while life, work, and responsibilities took priority. The artwork never stopped. The creating never stopped. The webs