Protect your creative energy. Not every opportunity is for you. Early in my career, I said yes to everything. I took on projects that drained me, undervalued my work, or simply weren’t aligned with my vision — all because I thought I needed to prove myself. But I’ve since learned that not every opportunity is worth taking.
As part of my series about “authors who are making an important social impact”, I had the pleasure of interviewing PeQue.
Born and raised in Gary, Indiana, fine artist PeQue developed his eye and honed skills as an artist in the armed forces, as a community leader and as a youth mentor. He has been the subject of and a featured artist for television shows, films and commercials for more than 35 years. PeQue’s body of work includes mural commissions for Vice President Kamala Harris, Hall of Famers Landon Donovan, Cobi Jones and for the City of Los Angeles (a mural tribute to the late Kobe Bryant). He founded LIQUID Arts Studios in both Los Angeles, CA and Metropolitan Atlanta, GA; an all arts collective aimed at providing guidance to disenchanted youth and young adults through the arts. PeQue is currently working with cities across the US to revitalize communities and schools with large custom murals engaging community support and youth input.
Thank you so much for joining us in this interview series! Before we dive into the main focus of our interview, our readers would love to “get to know you” a bit better.
I grew up in the steel city of Gary, Indiana, a place known for its rich musical history — the Jackson Family, Deniece Williams, and many others — but also its challenges. I am the youngest of my parents’ thirteen children. Art found me early, but it wasn’t always encouraged as a viable path.
In 7th grade, I was kicked out of art class for not meeting my teacher’s expectations, which planted seeds of doubt. But I never stopped drawing. By 9th grade, my high school art teacher, Mr. Stewart, saw my potential, encouraged me, and even secured a scholarship for me. He believed I had the talent to pursue art as a career. However, after I shared my aspirations, my father told me that art wasn’t a real job. He wanted me to pursue a more stable and practical path.
Consequently, I enlisted in the Navy as a result of not knowing what else to do. I went on to become a medic, and while I was good at it, something was missing. That sense of purpose I had felt with art never left me. My colleagues noticed my passion and encouraged me to apply for the highly competitive Navy Illustrator/Draftsman apprenticeship. The odds were against me — over 500 applicants competing for just 12 positions — and the Navy had already invested years into my medical training. But I knew I had to try.
Against all expectations, I was selected, ranking second among all applicants. That transition changed everything. I spent the rest of my military career as an illustrator, honing my craft and building the foundation for a lifelong journey in art. Once I transitioned to civilian life, I carried those skills forward, finding success as a visual artist, muralist, and storyteller.
Looking back, I realize that while I initially took a different route, my steps were always being guided back to my passion. Art is not my purpose — it is my passion, the vehicle that allows me to thrive in my purpose. My true calling is to illuminate, inspire, and impact others, using the gifts that GOD has given me.
When you were younger, was there a book that you read that inspired you to take action or changed your life? Can you share a story about that?
It wasn’t just one book that changed my life, but rather the collection of biographies highlighted by Dr. Carter G. Woodson. When I was in 4th through 6th grade, I didn’t enjoy gym class. The coach had a habit of lining up the entire class for paddling whenever one or two students got out of line. Not wanting to be punished for someone else’s actions, I found a way out — I arranged for the librarian to request my help during that period. That way, I still received credit for gym without the unnecessary discipline.
Spending countless hours in the school library turned out to be a gift. The librarian assigned me to read about inventors, pioneers, and artists, requiring me to give her verbal reports. Through this process, I was introduced to stories of remarkable individuals who overcame obstacles to shape history. Dr. Carter G. Woodson’s work stood out the most. His biographies illuminated lives of resilience, brilliance, and impact — stories that weren’t always widely recognized but were deeply significant.
These narratives expanded my understanding of perseverance, purpose, and the power of legacy. They reinforced my belief that my passion for art could be more than just a skill — it could be a tool for storytelling, transformation, and uplifting others. Those library days shaped my outlook, and to this day, I carry the lessons of those early readings with me.
It has been said that our mistakes can be our greatest teachers. Can you share a story about the funniest mistake you made when you were first starting? Can you tell us what lesson you learned from that?
One of the funniest mistakes I made early in my career was thinking I had mastered mural painting — until reality set me straight.
At the time, I was leading after-school programs where students helped create murals, and I had become a lead artist for a nonprofit that facilitated large-scale community beautification projects. On any given service day, I’d oversee up to 500 volunteers painting multiple murals, and everything seemed to come together smoothly. My confidence soared — I truly believed I had the process down to a science.
Then came a request for a commissioned mural. A paint contractor needed it done fast, and I, brimming with confidence, assured him, ‘No problem. My team and I can knock it out in a few days!’ In reality, I thought we could finish in just 24 hours.
With my most trusted artists, we got to work and completed the mural at record speed. My team and I even celebrated on social media, praising our efficiency and skill. We thought we had outdone ourselves.
The next day, reality hit hard. The school’s facilities inspector took one look at our work and had a long list of issues. I had assumed that what worked in large-scale volunteer projects would fly here, but the standards were entirely different. My teammates were unavailable, so I had to face the inspector alone and fix every flaw — an effort that took five painstaking days.
The lesson? Speed means nothing if the work lacks excellence. That experience permanently shifted my approach to art and craftsmanship. It taught me that attention to detail is the difference between something that simply fills space and something that truly captivates and inspires.
That ‘do-over’ moment was humbling, but it shaped me. Ever since, I’ve prioritized patience, persistence, and a commitment to quality in every project, knowing that the time invested in the details is what truly sets great work apart.
Can you describe how you aim to make a significant social impact with your book?
DRAWN: The Art of Purpose is more than my story — it’s a blueprint for those searching for their calling. Through my journey, I highlight the power of mentorship, resilience, and faith. My goal is to inspire creatives, young people, and even those at career crossroads to embrace their God-given purpose, no matter the obstacles. I also integrate augmented reality into my book, allowing readers to engage with my art in a way that merges storytelling and technology.
Can you share with us the most interesting story that you shared in your book?
It’s incredibly difficult to narrow DRAWN down to just one ‘most interesting’ story because readers connect with different moments in unique ways. However, one of the most powerful and deeply personal stories I share is about my father’s artistic journey — one I didn’t even know about until long after he had passed.
For most of my life, I believed that my father simply didn’t support my desire to be an artist. He insisted that I pursue a ‘real job’ and discouraged me from going down the uncertain path of creative work. But it wasn’t until I was nearly forty years old, sitting in my 80 year old cousin Odelle’s living room, that I learned why he felt that way.
She told me stories about my father’s childhood in rural Mississippi — how at just eleven years old, he had already built a reputation as a gifted young artist. A man had taken notice of his work and entered it into a local art contest. Days later, my father received news that he had won first place. His entire family made the long journey on foot from the poor Black slum of Shake Rag to the town square to see him honored. But as they arrived, the celebration turned to humiliation. A man in charge of the event — angered by the sight of my father and his family — publicly tore up his winning artwork, declaring that a ‘little Black boy’ could not have possibly created something so impressive.
That moment crushed my father’s dream. Soon after, his mother fell ill, and at just twelve years old, he had to put his artistic aspirations aside to work full-time for a sign company. He became exceptionally skilled at painting billboards and signs, proving his worth through hard work and perseverance. He was fulfilled that he, at least got to use his artistic talent in his work. But just as he started gaining traction, every sign he painted began to be mysteriously defaced — targeted acts of sabotage that left him with no choice but to leave the industry altogether.
Years later, after serving in World War II, he moved to Gary, Indiana, looking for a fresh start, but there were no real opportunities for Black artists. So he took a job at U.S. Steel, started a family, and dedicated his life to providing for us. Art was no longer an option.
When I finally understood my father’s story, it reshaped my perspective. He wasn’t just trying to crush my dreams — he was trying to protect me from the same heartbreak he had endured. He had fought too hard to build a stable life for his family to watch his youngest son chase a dream he believed would only lead to struggle and disappointment.
Ironically, the same artistic passion that was buried in my father resurfaced in me. The difference was, I was born in a time and place where I had a fighting chance to make art my career. His sacrifices allowed me to pursue what he couldn’t. And though I went against his wishes, I carried his lessons with me.
That story changed how I see my own journey. My success as an artist is not just about me — it is a continuation of my father’s story, a redemption of the dream he was forced to abandon. His struggles gave me a deeper understanding of perseverance, legacy, and the weight of opportunity.
This lesson extends beyond art. It speaks to the importance of understanding history and context — not just in what we create, but in how we live our lives. Knowing the struggles of those who came before us gives us a greater appreciation for the opportunities we have today. It allows us to move forward with resilience, with purpose, and with a profound respect for the path that was paved before us.
What was the “aha moment” or series of events that made you decide to bring your message to the greater world? Can you share a story about that?
My ‘aha moment’ came when I saw firsthand how my murals could transform communities, not just visually, but emotionally and spiritually. One of the most powerful examples of this was the Kobe Bryant tribute mural I painted in Watts after the tragic helicopter crash that took the lives of Kobe, his daughter Gianna, and the other victims.
When I started that mural, I knew it was more than just a painting — it was a tribute to a legend, a father, and an inspiration to so many. But I didn’t fully grasp its impact until I saw how the community responded. People from all walks of life — fans, families, travelers — came to see it, some driving across the country, others flying in from different parts of the world just to stand in front of it. Many couldn’t hold back their emotions; I watched grown men and women break down in tears, sharing personal stories about how Kobe had influenced their lives.
But what struck me the most was how the mural became a gathering place. It wasn’t just a piece of art — it became a sacred space where people found comfort, celebrated Kobe’s legacy, and connected with one another. Rival gang members, who wouldn’t typically stand in the same space, found peace there, taking photos together, reflecting, and showing respect. Local residents treated it as their own, making sure it remained untouched and free from vandalism. Even vacationers made it a must-see destination. The community took ownership of the mural, protecting and cherishing it with pride.
That’s when I knew my art was more than just an aesthetic contribution — it was a tool for storytelling, healing, and unity. It had the power to bring people together, to create safe spaces, and to immortalize legacies. That realization pushed me to share my journey beyond just murals. I knew I had to not only paint, but also tell the stories behind my work — the inspiration, the struggles, the purpose — because art isn’t just about what’s on the wall. It’s about the lives it touches, the conversations it sparks, and the change it can create.
Without sharing specific names, can you tell us a story about a particular individual who was impacted or helped by your cause?
There was a teenage boy in the community who struggled to find direction. Like many others, he was searching for identity, belonging, and purpose but had begun channeling his creative energy into tagging and defacing buildings. Graffiti was his outlet, but without guidance, it also became a path that led him toward trouble. His involvement with it escalated to the point where law enforcement associated him with gangs and placed an injunction on him, restricting his movement and putting him at risk of legal consequences that could change the course of his life forever.
His mother, desperate for an alternative, reached out to me. She saw that her son had talent but needed a mentor — someone who could redirect his energy into something positive. She asked if I would take him in as a mentee, and I agreed. I saw in him what I see in so many young artists: raw potential waiting to be nurtured.
I introduced him to the discipline of airbrush art with meaning — the power of storytelling through painting, the value of precision and patience, and the impact art could have when used with purpose. Instead of tagging walls in the dark, he learned to create with intention, developing skills that could not only express his voice but also open doors. He embraced the craft, thrived under mentorship, and ultimately, he found a new path.
Fast forward two decades, and that same teenage boy, now a young man is now a successful business owner. He runs a thriving tattoo studio, turning his artistry into a career that not only provides for his family but also allows him to create meaningful art every day. His transformation is proof that the right guidance, paired with opportunity and belief, can change the trajectory of a life.
This story is a reminder that sometimes, all someone needs is for one person to see their potential, to steer them toward something greater. That’s why I do what I do — because art isn’t just about painting murals or creating images. It’s about changing lives, one brushstroke at a time.
Are there three things the community/society/politicians can do to help you address the root of the problem you are trying to solve?
- Invest in arts education — Schools are cutting art programs, but creativity is essential for problem-solving and innovation. Allow professional artists with passion to give back to work with students in the schools, after-school programs and various other community projects. Also provide more funding for arts in schools, community centers or wherever willing artists are available to give back. This can and will help nurture young talent.
- Support public art initiatives — Murals and community-based projects uplift neighborhoods, create dialogue, and provide opportunities for local artists.
- Fund mentorship programs — Many young artists don’t have guidance. Investing in structured mentorship programs would help bridge the gap between talent and opportunity.
How do you define “Leadership”? Can you explain what you mean or give an example?
Leadership is the ability to inspire and elevate others while staying true to your purpose. It’s not about titles — it’s about impact. I’ve seen this in art projects, where leadership isn’t about me painting alone but empowering teams of artists, volunteers, and youth to contribute and take ownership of the process. A leader creates an environment where others thrive.
What are your “5 things I wish someone told me when I first started” and why? Please share a story or example for each.
1. Your gift alone isn’t enough — discipline is key.
Talent opens doors, but work ethic keeps them open. Early in my career, I thought raw skill would be enough to carry me, but I quickly learned that success requires more than just talent. What truly transformed my approach to both art and life was understanding CRAP — an acronym that stands for Contrast, Repetition, Alignment, and Proximity.
In design, these principles create visually appealing and harmonious artwork. But I realized that they also serve as a powerful framework for life. Contrast reminds me to embrace challenges and differences, as they highlight strengths and growth opportunities. Repetition reinforces the value of consistency — progress isn’t made in a single stroke but through continual refinement and practice. Alignment keeps me focused, ensuring my actions, goals, and values stay in sync. And Proximity teaches me that surrounding myself with the right people, influences, and opportunities will shape my success.
Once I began applying these principles beyond the canvas, my life became more balanced, fulfilling, and purpose-driven. Mastery isn’t just about creating great art; it’s about structuring a life that allows your passion to thrive.
2. Learn the business side of art early.
I spent years creating beautiful artwork, but my business acumen did not coincide with my talent. As a result, I was practically giving my art away. I was so focused on the joy of creating that I neglected the financial and contractual side of things — pricing, licensing, negotiating, and marketing. I assumed that if I just kept making great art, the money would follow. But I quickly realized that being a skilled artist and running a successful art business are two completely different things.
I can’t count how many times I sold pieces far below their value simply because I didn’t know how to price my work. I would agree to terms that left me with little to no profit, just happy that someone wanted my art. It wasn’t until I became a student of the business of art that things changed. I studied contracts, attended workshops, and sought mentorship from artists who understood the financial aspect. Now, I know that art is not just about passion — it’s also about sustainability.
3. Rejection is not a reflection of your worth.
Early on, every ‘no’ felt personal. I would submit proposals for projects I was excited about, only to hear nothing back. It was discouraging. But over time, I learned something critical: rejection often means ‘not yet’ or ‘not the right fit’ — not that you’re not good enough.
I’ve submitted countless proposals that led nowhere, but I kept going. I had to talk myself into submitting the next one, then the next one, and then the next one. And sometimes, years later, I’d get a call from a potential client who had once ignored my pitch, now ready to commission me for a job I thought was a lost cause. The key was to never stop submitting. Rejection doesn’t mean failure — it just means keep going. The right doors will open at the right time.
4. Collaboration over competition.
Some of my biggest opportunities came from working with other artists, not against them. Many of the most successful projects I’ve embarked upon have been the result of collaboration. I used to think I had to do everything alone to prove my worth, but I realized that combining strengths with other creatives produces something far greater than I could accomplish solo.
Collaboration isn’t always easy — everyone has different creative visions, and egos can get in the way — but the benefits far outweigh the challenges. The key is finding like-minded collaborators whose end goal aligns with mine. When that happens, the process becomes rewarding, and the results are always more impactful. Some of my proudest projects weren’t just my own — they were shared victories with fellow artists.
5. Protect your creative energy. Not every opportunity is for you.
Early in my career, I said yes to everything. I took on projects that drained me, undervalued my work, or simply weren’t aligned with my vision — all because I thought I needed to prove myself. But I’ve since learned that not every opportunity is worth taking.
It’s easy to get distracted by frivolous projects for people who don’t truly respect our talent. Too often, artists are expected to work for free or at a steep discount, as if our skills have no real value. Others treat artists as expendable, replacing them at will without recognizing the depth of effort that goes into our work.
Now, I choose my projects wisely. Money alone isn’t a good enough reason to take on a job. The best reason to do a project is because I believe in its cause and intentionality. I work with people who appreciate my artistry, respect my vision, and celebrate my contributions. Energy is a resource, and where you invest it matters.
These five lessons have shaped my journey as an artist and entrepreneur. If I had understood them earlier, I would have saved myself a lot of frustration. But the beauty of experience is that it teaches you what no book or class can. And now, I share these lessons so that others don’t have to learn them the hard way.
Can you please give us your favorite “Life Lesson Quote”? Can you share how that was relevant to you in your life?
I believe that despite the variety of our interests, talents, and passions, we all have one purpose on this earth: to be a light in the world.”
This understanding completely changed how I approach my life and my work. For the longest time, like many people, I equated purpose with profession — believing that what I did was synonymous with why I was here. But I came to realize that purpose isn’t tied to a job title, a career, or even the passions we pour ourselves into. Purpose transcends all of that.
Your vocation, your skills, your creative work — these are just vehicles. Your family, your relationships, your community roles — these are platforms. But purpose is what remains when everything else is stripped away. It is who you were created to be, even if you lost your ability to do everything people identify you with.
This truth became deeply personal to me as I navigated challenges in my career, times when opportunities felt uncertain, or when I questioned whether I was truly making an impact. When I finally embraced the fact that my purpose wasn’t art itself — but rather, using my gift to inspire, uplift, and illuminate truth — I stopped chasing validation and started walking in true fulfillment.
Now, every brushstroke, every painting, every story I tell, and every person I mentor is an extension of that purpose. I’m not here just to create — I’m here to be a light. And once I understood that, I began to experience a fulfillment that words cannot express.
Is there a person in the world, or in the US with whom you would like to have a private breakfast or lunch with, and why? He or she might just see this, especially if we tag them. 🙂
I’d love to sit down with Stephen Curry. Beyond being a brilliant athlete, his style of play has revolutionized basketball. He appears to be a man of deep faith, a pioneer in his field, and a family man of integrity. The resolve he displays as a public figure reflects the same stride in which I choose to walk — committed, purpose-driven, and unwavering in his beliefs.
How can our readers further follow your work online?
You can follow my journey on:
- Website: www.pequeartist.com
- Instagram: @pequebrown
- Facebook: @pequebrown
- YouTube: @pequebrown
This was very meaningful, thank you so much. We wish you only continued success on your great work!
Social Impact Authors: How & Why Author PeQue Is Helping To Change Our World was originally published in Authority Magazine on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.