Meet Corey Peters | Artist & Business Owner

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

Hi Corey, what role has risk played in your life or career?
Risk-taking is a way of life for me, and is deeply integrated with my philosophy of how I want to contribute while being alive on this planet. I understand that “risk” has multiple interpretations and my methods of risk-taking may not be conducive to someone else’s and vice versa. The biggest risk in life would be to not do the things I have passion and energy for. This gives me tremendous motivation to fight for spending as much time as possible doing the things I love. Time is my most limited and valuable commodity. Risk-taking provides keys to my freedom, and freedom means living life in a way that feels honest, sincere and passionate. It also means stepping out of my comfort zone in order to grow my edges and be the best contributor possible to society.

I think much of society believes that pursuing an art-related career is a risk. I would argue (for myself) that pursuing anything in life that I’m not fully engaged with as a risk to my mental, physical and spiritual health. The public collectively persists on claiming that art doesn’t make money. Labeling an art career as a financial risk is a misnomer that continues to spread generationally like a virus. It would be more apt to say that a career in any field is a risk. I have been able to carve out a comfortable and fulfilled life just as many other artists around me have. The common denominator being—we are all very passionate, and continue to work hard to learn, improve, and grow. We take risks in our work, and constantly assign ourselves new challenges. All passionate people I know that love their work, do things that scare them. I consider myself and my circle of influence to have a very counterculture attitude against living a risk-reduced life. We embrace risk for the sake of creative freedom, and don’t prescribe to social norms that diminish these endeavors. Some of us risk-takers may be more motivated by financial gains than others, and although I do understand there is a symbiotic relationship between money and freedom, they are not the same thing for me. Money has never been my primary incentive. Living freely on my own terms has always reigned at the top of my motivational totem pole, and this includes spending a vast amount of time painting and drawing.

In my art-making life, risk resemble endless experimentation. At times this feels unnerving, because the outcomes can be frustrating—even disastrous. There is great success in reaping the knowledge of those defeats. I think of it as “data-collecting,” and I’ve learned to cultivate failure as a means of positive growth. It also means pushing back against the smothering cloud of public opinion that dissuades people from pursuing multiple career or field interests. This cloud followed me in art college, and I graduated feeling extremely lost and confused. I wanted to continue experimenting and exploring, resulting in artwork that could change dramatically in content, style and medium. The risk would be losing my audience, and when I change, my audience changes. Besides pushing myself out of my comfort zone and having to reconnect with a new set of viewers, I don’t see this as a problem. I remain steadfast in my experimentations, which I believe is evident in the variety of images in this story.

Painting and drawing is a solitary task, and the allure of that loneliness is the opportunity to know myself better and how I relate (or don’t relate) to the world. Additionally, these opportunities and revelations occur within the presence of people, as the the audience is a primary reason for making art. There is risk of being hurt on account of the viewer though. Creatives understand the vulnerability in sharing, and the pain involved in being misunderstood, rejected, or unseen. As a fine artist, I make pictures I feel compelled to make. My shifting styles has led to galleries abandoning my work, because it no longer serves their aesthetics and ideals. Rejection is inevitable when a creative person alters their artistic identity. I’ve lost the support and interest of numerous patrons as a result of my work being stylistically recast. However, the rewards are new circles of patrons and opportunities. Other benefits include the acquired respect, insight and admiration for many types of cultures and modes of art-making as a result of my continuous studies and experimentations. This endows me with great spiritual and mental wealth, which I find more meaningful and valuable than financial wealth. The sacrifice of rebranding and enduring any financial droughts has always been worth my risks and efforts.

Teaching was something I started soon after graduating art college. It probably saved me, because I was horribly depressed at the time. My portfolio was weak, and I struggled to find work. Teaching challenged me to validate what I knew, which initially wasn’t much. This encouraged me to continue learning and experimenting. I immersed myself into plein air painting during the first half of my teaching career, which contributed significantly to my growth as a painter and designer. Nature has always been my best teacher, and is the sanctuary I feel happiest in. Those first ten years of teaching after college, I didn’t save any money, nor did I have any aspirations to own a house or start a family. I spent all of what little money I made traveling, hiking, and making art

After 10 years of being a teacher, I met my wife at the school where I taught. We combined our meager ration of cash and opened our own art school. Our vision was united, organized and unique in how we aimed to weave art into the community. It was terrifying to leave a secure job, and with such limited funds, it felt like a monumental risk. However, the idea of having more creative and personal freedom to share our knowledge about art was a driving force that propelled us forward. Our school, Right Brain Academy of Art, is now a staple in the community. We have been in business for 11 years, weathered a global pandemic, and recently finished our expansion into an additional space. The expansion too, comes with financial risk, as it has been costly to remodel and create what we hope comes across as a world class vision. In business (as in art and life), it’s impossible to know how you’ll be received by the public until enough data and feedback has been gathered. We always carefully examine data to see what pieces are working or not working well. From that point, we make the necessary adjustment to adapt or pivot. I think when taking any kind of risk, it’s crucial to be receptive to one’s surroundings by gently nudging the ego aside. I find when I am able to do this, I acquire pieces to the puzzle more quickly, giving me the confidence to move forward. This has been true in all aspects of my life.

Circling back to art making, I have been focused on the same project for the past 3 years. The photo of me painting shows my project titled, “Memento Vivere” (which is approximately 50% complete). I spent the first two years collecting reference, developing the story, building props, finding models and working on a full scale pencil rendering. It’s been the most complex, meticulous and involved project of my life. What risks have I taken with this project? One, might say: disappearing from the art scene for 3 years and counting, or making art for years without pay, or the fact that I have completely disbanded from social media in the pursuit of intense focus, or that once complete—I’m clueless to the paintings fate, or that I don’t even know when I’ll finish. Again, the greatest risk for me would be to not do it. Most importantly, this project represents a fundamental shift regarding why I am making this painting. Initially, my efforts were ego driven; I wanted to compete and garner attention. As time passed, that mantra has shifted to the other end of the spectrum. With (a majority of) ego aside, my quest is to do my absolute best as a way of thanking the universe for giving me life. The purpose feels more like giving a gift to the universe. This maxim helps me to push past fears, insecurities and risks associated with putting so much time, energy and money into one thing (while not knowing what the outcome will be). This project has also become my silent protest against the furious pace of a modern world and its unrelenting rampant divulgence of everything happening everywhere in the world.

Regret is not a word that fits into my vocabulary. I have accumulated a mountain of failures, poor choices and mistakes, and yet, I only see this as a good thing. I view my willingness to fail as a strength by means of collecting information, reflecting, adapting and pivoting. Failure and fear are notions for me to run towards and not away from. I do think pragmatism and an appropriate amount fear are necessary when taking risks, but I am not afraid to fail, and I think living a regret-free lifestyle is synonymous with my risk-taking efforts. This is what it means for me to live freely.

Any places to eat or things to do that you can share with our readers? If they have a friend visiting town, what are some spots they could take them to?
We would retreat to the Sierra Nevada mountains, specifically Convict Lake, which is a 5 hour drive from Los Angeles. There are wonderful cabins to stay in, a general store for all your basic needs, and a five star restaurant on the property. The week would consist of hiking, hiking, and more hiking in the solace and majesty of these mountains.

Shoutout is all about shouting out others who you feel deserve additional recognition and exposure. Who would you like to shoutout?
Everyone needs the support of people in their endeavors. These are the people who have shown me unwavering support throughout my career: My brilliant wife, Rebecca Chen, who has always given me invaluable critical feedback and support. It helps that she actually likes my art! As an incredible art educator and former fine artist, she has a wonderfully critical eye, and her suggestions always lead to improvements. I am certainly better because of her!

I would not be where I am without my Mom, Dad and Brother (Marilyn, Norm and Brandon Peters). They’ve always encouraged and believed in me every step of the way. Thankfully, my parents never fed me any of that “starving artist” slop. It may have helped that my grandma was a professional artist, and I learned a lot from being around her, looking at her seascape paintings, and listening to what she had to say about art-making. Regardless of my Grandma, I have always felt that my family has been on my side.

My list of friends to recognize is a long one. At the risk (one I’m not willing to take) of mistakenly leaving someone out, I would like to thank them all for cheering me on while allowing me a space to vent without judgement when I needed it. My friends are amazing!

Website: https://www.coreypeters.com

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/coreypetersart

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/corey.peters.18

Other: https://www.rightbrainacademyofart.com