The Origin Story

I’ve been told I have a remarkable memory of my childhood.

The earliest moment I can recall is learning how to climb out of my crib late at night and falling from the rail on my way down. I remember the beam of light that swept across my bedroom floor as my mom opened the door from the hallway, answering my cries.

When I was 2 (maybe 3?), I “helped” my dad build a swing set in our backyard. I remember pressing my hand into the sticky cement that held it in place and feeling like I made my first mark on the world. My world was very small back then, but boy did it feel so big. Many, many more memories were made in that back yard. I remember, over some years, comparing my growing hands to the little print I had made.

In my big sister’s room, I would sit on her bed while she studied for her Highschool classes. She would always have interesting doodles in her sketchbook. She taught me how to draw these curved lines, over and over, to make clouds around words.
I carried that doodle pattern with me everywhere… to this day I replicate it often in a mindless fashion.

Then there was my art desk. A small, plastic child’s desk with a cubby for pens and paper, and a small plastic chair. I spent time at this desk nearly every day until we moved when I was 8. I loved to draw people. My mom, sister, and dad. I drew flowers and landscapes and weird abstract scribbles. And, as with all kids, I was asked many times while sitting there, “what do you want to be when you grow up?” Aside from the occasional answer of “scientist” or “astronaut,” I always stated “I want to be an Artist!”

So that’s how this story began, but how did little Mikayla with a big dream end up here? There are so many moments I can reflect on that pushed me towards this path, but I want to fast forward a bit to 2020… yep, the pandemic.

By this point in my life, I had graduated high school, dropped out of college, and moved out with some roommates. My artistic ventures had varied and changed over the years. From drawing and painting, to playing violin in my roommate’s band, to crocheting and embroidery, I really bounced around. In 2020, I picked up felting. Felting is the process of using a needle or water and friction to blend colored wool fibers together to make 3D felt figures or 2D felt sheets with different imagery. I became obsessed with the process and finally saw a path to making money with art. I started an Etsy shop and I was determined to find success. I was also working at a local convenience store as a full time manager, so finding a balance became difficult. While short bursts of quarantine helped push me forward, as work went back to full time, I found it impossible to manage.

As much as I hated it at the time, I failed. I just could not do both. For a while, I gave up. I refocused on my traditional career, secured a higher-paying job, and diligently worked to make ends meet. It was boring. All my life, I knew what I wanted, yet here I was falling back again. So I spent some years going through the motions and occasionally reflecting. Through reflection I had an epiphany I didn’t know what to do with. The tangents of fiber crafts and music were worthwhile pursuits, but they were never the true goal. I was meant to be a painter.

In 2023, I got engaged and was married in 2024. My husband is the most supportive person currently in my life (mom, dad, sister and fam, you guys are amazing too, thank you!). He has a love of art, and has become a bit of a collector. He continuously encourages me to go after my dreams, and when my “career” finally made me snap, he was there telling me it was ok — just quit. And I did.

I was scared. My normal was about to drastically change, and I would have the opportunity to actually pursue my passion seriously. What if I failed again? What if I start this and get distracted by a shiny new hobby and have to start over again? What if? What if? What if… it works? What if I don’t try at all and regret it in old age? What if I do try and find enormous success? All outcomes are terrifying. I came to the conclusion that it boils down to two options: don’t try and guarantee failure with no lessons learned, or go for it, risk failure, but learn something no matter what. I went with the latter and here I am.

Two days ago, I had my first experience as a vendor. I had 3 originals, and a variety of prints for sale. Family and friends came to show support, and I even sold some things to random passersby. Overall, it was a great success for me and my soul feels full. I’m not sure how to put into words how excited I am for the rest of this year, but I know good things lay ahead. I hope you’ll stick with me through this journey that started this year, but truly originated the day I was born.

Thank you to all of my friends and family that have supported me along the way, especially to my Mom, Dad, and Sister for always encouraging me, and to my husband Joe, who is a daily supporter of my work.

Love you <3