My Debut: The journey here and why it pains me…

This post is deeply personal, but I feel I owe it to the younger versions of myself to write it. To be vulnerable. To document this moment exactly as it feels. My hope is that future me will read these words and find wisdom or comfort in them, and that they might inspire anyone else walking a similar path.

I recently made my debut as a creative in the public sphere, and it has been a bittersweet experience. Until now, my art has lived mostly online, created as personal projects and shared digitally. As a self-taught artist with no formal education, my work exists outside the boundaries of traditional art institutions. My debut marked a shift—an intentional step toward sharing my vision with the world in a tangible way. It’s the beginning of a new chapter, one I’m determined to continue writing.

The Journey Here

Getting here hasn’t been easy or fair. As I write this, I feel drained, physically and emotionally. While I’m proud to have gained public recognition—seeing my digital art displayed at Times Square and my drawings projected at Art Basel, floating over the Atlantic Ocean—I can’t ignore the toll this journey has taken on me. These achievements were dreams come to life, yet they’ve come at a cost that has often left me questioning the process.

I’m only at the start of my career, and at 25, I know there’s still so much ahead. But my experiences have already shaped me profoundly. I’ve been drawing for as long as I can remember. My earliest memories involve tracing the curve of a cup with red crayons and sketching an eye with sticks in the sand. I didn’t realize it then, but those moments were the seeds of something much bigger. Talent, I’ve since learned, provokes all kinds of reactions—some inspiring, others discouraging.

At ten years old, I decided I would become an artist. I kept that decision close to my heart, slowly building confidence to share my work online at 15. Starting small, I took commissions from friends and family, saving enough to relocate to a new country where I could nurture my craft. Something as simple as consistent electricity made an enormous difference, providing the stability I needed to focus and grow.

Finding My Way in the United States

Arriving in America was a mix of excitement and struggle. Early on, I was fortunate to receive sponsorships from Faber-Castell (they sent me pencils) and Strathmore (they sent me papers)—gifts from the universe that arrived just in time to support me when the challenges of living independently felt overwhelming. Yet, this success also brought negativity. I faced surprising hostility, even from friends, peers and even people I thought I could trust. It shook me deeply but also clarified something important: my art, and the path it carves, would not be universally understood or supported and I was forced to accept that.

Balancing education, work, and creativity was grueling, and I burned out often. During this time, I also learned I was neurodivergent, which helped me understand my creative process and limitations better. I kept sharing my work online, knowing it was the one thing keeping me accountable. That persistence paid off when the CEO of Bic noticed my art, sending me a massive box of ballpoint pens and that became a pivotal part of my journey. Transitioning to ballpoint pens transformed my style and propelled my confidence forward.

A Spiritual Awakening

Amid these challenges, I experienced a spiritual awakening. The divine hand guiding my path became evident—removing distractions, isolating me when needed, and ultimately teaching me to trust the process. But this period wasn’t without its struggles. I faced emotional, verbal, and psychological attacks, lost relationships, and even lost my job. Luckily, I had someone close enough to witness all this happen and they can validate this truth to both our dismay. The weight of these challenges was heavy, but they also illuminated the truth: I had to let go of toxic people and environments to thrive in the life I have chosen.

I’ve always envisioned my art in unconventional spaces, and seeing those visions come to life has been a reminder of my purpose- To be unconventional and unafraid. The universe has supported me in unexpected ways, affirming that my intentions—to inspire, to uplift—are aligned with something greater.

Reimagining Art’s Purpose

Over the years, learning about African history and the legacy of colonization has shifted my perspective. My art is no longer solely about profit. Instead, I see it as a tool for change—a means of challenging narratives, preserving culture, and inspiring others. Art, to me, is more than something to be bought or sold; it’s a medium for connection, for storytelling, and for transformation.

I know my path is unconventional, and I embrace that. Whether it takes another 15 years or more, I’m committed to pushing boundaries and creating a space for African art to be seen, respected, and celebrated on its own terms.

Moving Forward

This moment would be more fulfilling if shared with close friends and family, but I understand why the universe needed to create this space for me to grow. I don’t know what the future holds, but I do know that as long as I keep creating, I’m co-creating with the universe itself. Together, we’re shaping a future where art adds more beauty to the world.

To any creatives reading this: please, never give up. There are countless ways to achieve your dreams, and you’ll find the one that works for you. Your art is a divine gift, uniquely yours, and it has the power to inspire, heal, and transform.

With love, humility and gratitude,

Patrick Chuka