Born in Springfield, Missouri, Wiley was that quiet kid who doodled on his mathwork and actually liked it. 🎨✨ He ditched his basketball scholarship for guitar, moved to Austin, and discovered two things: 1) Austin's musicians are way better than he is, and 2) vans make great homes. 🚐🏡 Founding the band Street Light Suzy with Gilby Clark from Guns N’ Roses, Wiley traded his guitar for a paintbrush to focus on being a super dad (parenting win!). Through cold calls, blanks walls, and a sprinkle of spite, he turned his art into a booming career. His story? Proof that skipping class to play guitar and take mushrooms can sometimes pay off. 🤷‍♂️💪

Wiley kindly shared his story to help remove stigma from asking for help, and spread awareness of our services, including free community nights and $40 therapy sessions to nightlife industry workers. 

Tell us a little bit about your background as an artist. 

 I was in Springfield, Missouri. A strange child. I was very quiet. Art and music always made sense to me. I went to college on basketball on art scholarships. I started skipping class to take mushrooms and teach myself guitar. I enjoyed that much more than waking at 5am and running. After two years, I just dropped out and moved home. Saved up money and bought a van. I moved to Austin, Texas because it was closer than Seattle or California. I had never been to Texas, let alone Austin. I found quickly that not only was Austin full of musicians, but they were good musicians, and better than me. So, I started a band called Street Light Suzy. We toured around. Our second album was recorded by Gilby Clark from Guns N’ Roses, but then I had my kid. I had to pick between art and music because I needed to devote 100% of my time to either one or the other, so I picked art, so I could stay home, not be on the road, and be with my kid. I was a much bigger fish in a much smaller pond. One thing led to another. Originally, I would just drive around town, and look for a big wall with nothing on it, find out who the land lord was, and I would get their email, and contact ten a day. I’d get maybe five responses, and maybe land one. I just continuously hustled. I eventually got to where I didn’t have to seek out the gigs anymore. They would come to me. Then, I met Karma. We partnered on projects; started a band. 

Boundaries show up in all areas of life. How does it show up in your area of life working as an artist. 

My pet peeves are whenever I am working on something, and it’s not done yet, and someone asks me if it’s done. Sometimes, people give their critiques or opinions when I haven’t asked. It’s like me going to a doctor and they are telling me about my body, and I disagree with them when that’s not what I do for a living. Those are boundaries. Whenever someone wants me to do a portrait of them, and they ask me to change something, like their nose—they may ask me to make their nose smaller. I don’t want to do that, because then it’s not going to look like them, and if their friend sees it, and says “That doesn’t look like you,” you’re not going to say “Oh, I told the artist to change my nose.” It will just look like I didn’t do my job. As far as other boundaries, collectors sometimes don’t know what they want. It’s like looking for a light switch in a dark room. Really, as long as the client’s happy, that is all that matters. It is one thing when you are doing commissions, it’s another thing when it’s your art. They either like it or they don’t. When you do commission, you’re under someone’s thumb. 

Another thing, I don’t like it when people just show up to my house, like unannounced. 

What other obstacles have you experienced?

In art, especially music, people look for numbers. People can pay to play. That’s why the scene on the sunset strip got ruined. It used to be you needed so many tickets to sell to play, but now, your parents can buy them all, and no one is at your show, but a shitty band can play. Cream doesn’t rise to the top. I found that to be the case where it is just about money and numbers. It has nothing to do with the art. Also, it’s like politics. With the muralists, that crowd... I never felt like I fit in ever. I had multiple tribes, but never a tribe of my own. I never fit in with the art scene down here because I didn’t identify with those cats. We got along fine, but I always felt like an outsider.  I always felt on the fringe, whether it was music or art. 

Speaking on that, let’s talk social stigma. Do you feel like you are treated differently for working as an artist? 

Oh, yes. That actually is favorable to me. My house. My lifestyle. Before Karma, girls would come over, sometimes guys, and if I was anything, but an artist, [my lifestyle] would be unacceptable. If I was an accountant, people would say “This guy needs to get his shit together,” but because I am an artist, they are like “Oh, that’s why there are car parts in the yard…that’s why there is a sculpture made out of trash essentially.” They are much more forgiving [if I am an artist]. A lot of people say they’re artists, but I didn’t choose to be an artist. For me, creating is a compulsion. I have to do it. Half the time, I don’t even think I enjoy it, but I have to do it. It doesn’t matter what medium it is, I have to constantly create because I can’t turn my mind off. Other poeple, when they say they’re an artist, they have a choice. They’re more of a hobbyist. Sometimes, if I’m in a bad mood, I can be offended by that. 

How do you show up for yourself in hard times? 

Whenever I dated this girl in college, I told her I wanted to move out and pursue music and art. She looked at me and laughed. She said “Wiley, you’re not that good.” She was right. I wasn’t that good—at the time. That lit a fire underneath my ass. The best pep talks I can be given are people not believing in me. My mother didn’t believe I could play piano, I learned to play. I learned how to play out of spite. I’ve accomplished more out of spite than anything else. It is a very petty and immature emotion, but it can be incredibly useful. The way I show up for myself is by feeling if someone doesn’t believe in me, I will make them believe. This drives me. Sometimes I fake it until I make it. If I am doing a job that I fucking despise, I’ll lie to myself, and will be like “This is great. I wouldn’t want to paint anything else. This is awesome.” I’ll keep doing that, and eventually I will start to believe myself, and get into what I am doing. That, and of course, pharmaceuticals here and there can help, too. 

In every situation there is an unspoken etiquette. A way that you would like to be treated. What would you like readers to know as far as how to treat artists?

I would say common courtesy. Take them seriously. For me, normal human respect is sufficient. Everybody’s shit stinks. You can polish a turd, but it’s still a piece of shit. I would treat an artist the same way I would treat a favor driver, or an executive. It doesn’t matter. I treat them the same, because they are all people. If people were just nicer, it would alleviate so much of the world’s problems. It costs nothing at all to change somebody’s day for the better. A kind word can hold someone off for one more day. It also costs nothing to ruin someone’s day. I feel fulfilled when I do art. I never feel fulfilled if I am not having a positive impact on someone’s life. 

What is a valuable lesson you’ve learned working as an artist?

I would say never give up. I know that’s cliche, but it is true. Thomas Edison failed a thousand times making the light bulb. I hate that fucker for what he did to Tesla, but anyway, when a reporter asked about his failure, he said “I didn’t fail 1000 times. The light bulb was an invention with a 1000 steps.” It’s really a matter perspective. You’re going to get down on yourself, but never throw in the towel. Do it one more time, and see what happens, and eventually it will happen. I think the reason a lot of people don’t achieve their dream is that weren’t willing to pay what it was worth in the long run. I have “No Free Lunches” tattooed on my stomach. It’s true. Anything that’s worth a shit, the value is dictated on the sacrifice and price you pay for it. If you work your ass to get a car, it’s worth more than if someone gave you that car. I can’t think of anything more expensive than achieving your dream. It’s about consistency. The number one regret is not living for yourself. I would much rather fail than wonder what could have been. That’s why we love underdog stories. No one will believe in you if you don’t believe in yourself. That is lesson I’ve learned. 

What would you say to someone who is reluctant to receive therapy?

First, I would ask them why. I would ask if it is just the label. I’d point out that just us talking about it is therapy itself. I would point out talking to a bartender is therapy. I would try to help them look at it in a different perspective, to think about where their problems are coming from. I would ask them if they think talking about their feelings is emasculating. I think a lot of people just have vulnerability or trust issues. I think it’s human nature to move away from pain, and toward pleasure… like the “No Free Lunches” thing. The price you’re going to pay for getting better is that you have to address those traumas and those aspects of your personality. Through doing that, the reward you get, is that you get better. Really, though I don’t think there’s a quick fix. I would have quite the ego if I thought I had the words to change someone’s mind on that. 

Is there anything else you’d like to add before wrapping up?

I think talking when you’re not fighting. Communication is key. It’s the most important thing in human nature. A key component to a well-rounded person is being able to express yourself. It’s the valve that lets off the steam. It’s paramount to be able to do that. When you ask “How can I help?” you help yourself. I think that “acts of service” is where you can really help yourself. Doing kind things for people makes you feel good about yourself. The negative is just as contagious as the positive. I think the more positive we have, the brighter the sun will shine.