Meet Andrea Bogdan | Artist, Designer

We had the good fortune of connecting with Andrea Bogdan and we’ve shared our conversation below.

Hi Andrea, have you ever found yourself in a spot where you had to decide whether to give up or keep going? How did you make the choice?
Whether or not to give up, in my opinion, is that line a person draws in the sand that is different for each individual. So what I’m saying next is not advice. It’s a review of the three times I thought about quitting my art business, and what my thought process was.

I believe it was early 2019 when I realized art would not cover all my household bills in a particular month – I was not generating enough money to cover the living expenses of me and my husband. Our expenses were low. We had a small apartment, ate meals at home, and we shared a used car. He worked full time in my business with me. It was two days before the end of the month and I didn’t have enough money to pay rent for our apartment (without dipping into savings). In my mind, the savings for an emergency outside of my control. My income was definitely something I could control – I could get a job working for somebody, or I could get smarter about how I was running my business. I was not in a position to borrow. So, I decided that at the end of the month I would close my business and get a job if I couldn’t pay the rent for the apartment. On the last hour of the last day of the month, a customer came in and bought an original painting from me. It wasn’t a big one, but it was enough to cover the missing part of the rent. Shortly after, we moved out of the apartment and we temporarily moved into a spare studio space in order to focus 100% of our resources into putting the business on a good track.

The second time I considered giving up was in April of 2020 when it became evident that the lockdowns and restrictions on travel and businesses would to be extended more than the original three-week estimate. I will say in all sincerity that this time the idea of giving up was partly associated with the business and partly associated with life itself. I made the decision as a young woman not to have children because I wanted to be free to take risks at work and have a career that included travel and adventure, so home and family were not priorities in my life. Work was. So when I received the emergency alert to vacate my studio, I was thrown, but hopeful the absence would be brief. But when I realized (two weeks into it) that I wasn’t permitted to go back, and that the timeline on our restrictions was open-ended, I was broken. My art practice mission and my open studio business were my life and my reason for being. My purpose and my income were gone, but I still had my health. A good friend took us in, my husband quit working with me (and he got a part-time job), and I used the days to get more physically fit and to read. This time, I allowed myself to dip into savings because this crisis was not of my own making.

The third time is now. Tourism, disposable spending and the actual number of paintings that I can produce are all down. Costs of doing business, drug trafficking and violent crime are all up in my neighborhood. But… UCLA bought the building next door and slowly the vacant store fronts are being activated by local real estate people who are working with local artists. I’m experimenting with different product offerings and people are responding by buying them. I started a second business that I can scale, not because I don’t believe in the art practice, but because I really believe in the product I developed, and when it takes off, then I can have a more consistent source of income to support me while I build back the art practice. At the moment I don’t have a definition of what my situation ought to look like to warrant “giving up”, except that I do think about the story of Job and how he laid in the dust, scraping boils on his skin with rocks, while his best friends preached to him about all the things he must have done wrong to deserve losing everything, and I’m not in that state yet, so it probably is not time to give up.

Can you open up a bit about your work and career? We’re big fans and we’d love for our community to learn more about your work.
I did not originally set out to be an artist, though it was evident to everybody around me that I was one. By the time I was 20, I had attended thirteen different schools (from grade school to college) and my identity as an athlete became much stronger than my identity as an artist because sports was essential to my making friends. After much fumbling around, I went to the community college and majored in graphic design, but it was very hard to make friends in a commuter school, and my extroverted personality craved community. With financial help from my folks (my waitressing job wasn’t enough to pay for my art supplies anyway), I switched to a state university and majored in architecture. Alas, sitting at a drafting table in an all male classroom was too isolating for me, and so I switched my major to marketing and got my first job in advertising in New York City. Advertising suited me perfectly because people in advertising talk a lot. Helping my company to develop an office in Prague was by far the most fun part of that work life.

From advertising, I started my own wee agency, and one of my clients eventually hired me to run their marketing department in a hospital, and I also grew into business development and strategic planning roles. I’m very proud of the new units and services I helped to justify and launch in the hospitals where I worked. The only downside is that it usually took 2-5 years from start to finish to make a new business. That’s normal for healthcare. But it didn’t satisfy my need for speed.

For two years I worked my day job and went to my art studio at night and on the weekends. This was my trick to live a more “normal” life and leave work at a decent hour, and do something that used the other side of my brain. My definition of “balance.” Plus, I truly believe that creative exercises make you smarter, overall. My day job segued into a different healthcare job where projects took 6-10 months (instead of years), and that segued into three completely different part-time jobs (one was making and selling art), and eventually into making and selling art full time.

One of the reasons my studio is open to the public every day is because I know very well how isolation and loss can inhibit a person’s confidence, and so making time for teenagers and adults who are in transition is an important part of my day. Everybody who comes into my space influences my work because I freestyle every piece, something I learned how to do from artist Jesse Reno. It was actually an auto accident that I had while going to a business meeting that caused me to take a week off work and take a workshop by Jesse, which led me to getting a studio, so this career was not exactly planned, but in a way it was inside of me the entire time.

I learned that there’s no clear career path for an artist. I think this is what makes this profession most unique, as each of us finds our own way, our own timing and our own expressions. That said, I believe we are each the artist of our own life, and with freedom, courage, experimentation and gratitude we can craft a life that in consistent with who we are meant to be.

Let’s say your best friend was visiting the area and you wanted to show them the best time ever. Where would you take them? Give us a little itinerary – say it was a week long trip, where would you eat, drink, visit, hang out, etc.
I’d have them meet me at the Last Bookstore in downtown Los Angeles. This is where my studio is, and of course I would want to show them what I’m working on, and especially I’d want them to see what the bookstore has to offer because it has such an amazing selection of new and used books, plus it’s in a fascinating setting of an old bank in the historic core of downtown Los Angeles. Then we’d walk down to eat at Yuko’s Kitchen at the corner of Main and 5th street where people are sitting at large communal seating-style tables, surrounded by plants and enjoying noodle bowls and spicy salmon rolls. Then spend the rest of the day at The Broad and MOCA a few bocks away on Grand. The next day I’d take them to the Huntington Gardens for the entire day, though we’d probably have brunch first at Fiore’s Cafe in South Pasadena, and maybe end the day with a beer outside at either the Frogtown Brewery in Elysian Flats or Benny Boy Brewery in Lincoln Heights. For sure, we’d take a day trip to the Getty Museum and probably get a pastrami sandwich at Cantors. Somewhere in the week, we’d drive down to Redondo or Manhattan Beach to walk in the wet sand and down the boardwalk, and have a picnic, do a little body surfing, and watch the sun set. Depending on who’s doing an art show, we’ll drop in on Cactus Gallery, Gabba Gallery, SuperChief Gallery, and La Luz de Jesus. I’d sign us up for one or two hot yoga classes at Fire Hot Yoga in Atwater Village, just to keep us focused on our health, and sit outside at Bon Vivant Cafe and eat cheese and sip wine and talk and talk. We’d take in a show at the Greek Theatre and also at the Hollywood Bowl, and if there’s time, we’d go to a comedy Improv show.

Who else deserves some credit and recognition?
The staff at New Economics for Women and the founder of OmniWorks Economics Development Corporation gave me sound advice and helped me set my direction for my new company, Stuey Iggle Gear, and they guided me to other resources to help me keep my momentum going as an artist who also owns a fashion company.

Website: andreabogdan.com

Instagram: andreabogdanartist.com

Linkedin: //www.linkedin.com/in/andreabogdanartist/

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/andrea.bogdan.art/

Other: https://stueyigglegear.com

Image Credits
I took all the photos, but thank you for asking, and you don’t need to give me credit.