Keely Masterson is a self-taught mixed-media artist and illustrator. She’s semi-nomadic with her home base in Los Angeles, CA. This is her first installment in a 4-part series as Artist Strong’s Artist in Residence.

You can enjoy more of her art on Instagram: @wildflowerpantry. Stay tuned for the launch of her website https://www.wildflowerpantry.com

My Illustrated Life

“In another life, I would have been an illustrator,”

I’d sometimes admit to my closest friends—a quiet confession of a dream I barely dared to acknowledge. It felt so far from the life I knew, so unattainable, that it almost didn’t feel like mine. Yet, the longing was always there, quietly waiting beneath the surface.

I had convinced myself that dream wasn’t meant for this lifetime. Afterall I didn’t go to art school; instead, I studied Economics, went to law school, and chose what seemed like the practical path to a stable career. Becoming an artist never felt like a real possibility—it was something I had dismissed before I even gave it a chance.

Yet creativity was woven into the fabric of my childhood. My father, a classically trained sign painter and graphic artist, worked out of a studio in our home. I grew up watching him paint beautiful hand lettering and illustrations, tagging along to his job sites, and playing with art supplies he kept around the house. Art was everywhere, and it was the life I knew.

I was a deeply imaginative, sensitive child, so drawing became my safe space—a place where my world could truly come alive. My ever-growing collection of stuffed animals were my best friends, each with a unique name, personality, and intricate backstory. They were part of a vibrant, imagined world full of life.

I loved them and spent countless hours drawing comics and portraits of my “friends,” bringing their stories to paper. My early exposure to art, along with a wonderful early elementary school art teacher, left a lasting impression on me. But despite my passion for creating, I never saw it as a real future for myself.

Ironically, it was my father’s career that solidified this belief. While his work was prominent across our city, he often struggled financially as a small business owner. I saw firsthand how undervalued his immense talent was and decided that being an artist wasn’t a viable path. Growing up with a lot of financial and family instability, I craved security, and I believed a professional career would give me the stability I needed.

Still, drawing remained a quiet constant in my life. Even as I left childhood behind, I never stopped sketching and doodling—at school, at work (even getting fired for it once), and in sketchbooks that I filled in my free time. Occasionally, I’d sign up for adult art classes just for fun, but I didn’t take them seriously and rarely finished them, always blaming “life” for getting in the way. And it didn’t help that while still in high school, my results from an online “left-brain vs. right-brain” quiz only deepened my doubts, leading me to believe I wasn’t creative at all.

In my professional life, I did what I thought I should do, but something always felt off. I worked jobs and pursued opportunities I thought would interest me, even gravitating toward creative environments, but always in a supportive, business role. I surrounded myself with artistic friends, I respected their creative intelligence and admired their freedom to pursue their passions. But deep down, I felt envious. There was a part of me longing to do the same, even if I didn’t fully understand it at the time.

The truth is, I am an artist—I always have been. And while I could get by in the sensible career I built, something vital was always missing. It took me years to realize that denying this part of myself wasn’t sustainable. Creativity wasn’t just something I enjoyed—it was a part of who I am.

A page from my illustrated journal

My journey back to my creative self unfolded gradually (at first) over a few years, almost without me realizing it. It started with small moments, like finding an old sketchbook and cheap acrylic paints in my closet and feeling a sudden urge to play with them. That day, I got so immersed in painting that I was very late to meeting with a friend.

Another time, while traveling in Mexico, I spontaneously bought a small watercolor set, and later, I purchased a used iPad and downloaded Procreate to make virtual birthday cards for loved ones. These small steps rekindled something in me.

A turning point came when I took a Domestika course called “Illustrated Life Journal: A Daily Mindful Practice” by Kate Sutton. The day before discovering the course, I had bought a Strathmore watercolor “visual journal” on impulse. Not knowing what I’d use it for, I bought it because I liked the paper.

I immediately started documenting my days in it, experimenting with styles and mediums, which brought me so much joy. It took my about 8 months to finish and through my daily practice, I became comfortable with my mediums of choice while improving my skills. Each creative step felt like rediscovering a long-lost part of myself.

“Smoked Paprika”, one of my “Vegan Superheroes”

Another breakthrough came with the idea to create an illustrated food blog — blending two passions: art and cooking. After switching to a plant-based diet around the time that I started getting back into my art practice, I began developing and veganizing recipes. When I struggled with art, I’d turn to the kitchen for inspiration.

“Wheat Gluten”, another “Vegan Superhero”

While the blog required more planning than I expected, it sparked a side project: “Vegan Superheroes,” in which I illustrated “superhero” ingredients that really make vegan cooking shine.

The project has taken me about two years to complete and has actually led to other opportunities, including my first paid illustration gig (!) this past summer, illustrating a menu for a restaurant in Barcelona, Spain called Savta.

And that’s how Wildflower Pantry was born—an ambitious idea that still feels quite intimidating. But I’ll be using this residency with Artist Strong to finally get it off the ground. Over the next three installments, join me while I share my creative process, from choosing color palettes to stylistic decisions and sources of inspiration, as I finally bring this project to life.

Some of the menu items I illustrated for Savta: