When I was a kid, those mail-in drawing contests would arrive like clockwork—bold fonts, cartoon mascots, promises of prizes. I’d study them, imagine what I might submit… and then quietly tuck them away. I never entered. Not because I didn’t want to—but because something in me wasn’t ready yet.
Instead, I soaked up every visual I could find. I was obsessed with Mad and Cracked Magazine and Garbage Pail Kids. Their warped, witty worlds where satire met slapstick was just what my developing little brain needed. I marveled at movie posters, especially the hand-drawn ones that felt like chaotic murals of comedy and exaggeration.
By high school, my attention shifted toward movies and special effects. I was mesmerized by dark comedy films like The Addams Family and Death Becomes Her—their twisted humor, visual illusions, and the unforgettable McCabe sequences really grabbed my creative attention. Tim Burton’s films became another obsession, with their dark whimsy and surreal design language. They showed me that storytelling could be theatrical, eerie, and emotionally rich—all at once.
Throughout my 20s and into the present, I’ve worked as a graphic designer—self-taught and relentless. I taught myself the full Adobe Creative Suite, mastering the tools that brought my ideas to life. Then in my late 30s, I returned to college to pursue a bachelor’s degree in Visual Effects and Motion Graphics, deepening my craft and expanding my creative vocabulary.
In 2013, I stepped into one of the boldest, most unforgettable chapters of my creative life when I competed in The Best in Drag Show fundraiser as Vava Fanculo—your larger‑than‑life Italian mob housewife from Wildwood, New Jersey. I didn’t just play the character; I built her world. Every costume embellishment, every prop, every visual element across all three categories came from my own hands and imagination. But the moment that defined that night—and became one of the greatest artistic feats of my career—was the talent performance. In just two and a half electrifying minutes, I painted an upside‑down portrait live on stage, the audience unaware of what they were witnessing until the final flip revealed The Godfather staring back at them. It was theatrical, technical, emotional, and utterly show‑stopping. A perfect fusion of character, craft, and pure artistic bravado.
In 2017, my artistic journey lead me to national television when I was featured on The New Celebrity Apprentice, the Arnold Schwarzenegger–hosted edition. As the head graphic designer for the men’s team, I became the go‑to creative mind behind the branding, visuals, and campaign assets that shaped the team’s presentations. I translated chaotic brainstorming into clean, compelling visuals under intense time pressure, elevating each challenge with professional‑level design thinking. Whether it was packaging, logos, pitch materials, or on‑the‑fly creative problem‑solving, I was the one the team relied on to make their ideas look polished, cohesive, and competitive. It became a standout moment in my career: national exposure, high‑stakes creativity, and a chance to show that my design instincts hold up even under the glare of reality‑TV deadlines.
There was a period in my creative journey when I veered down an unexpected and wonderfully strange artistic avenue: making life masks. I would mold people’s faces, cast them in plaster, and then transform those blank forms by airbrushing bold, exaggerated drag faces onto them. It was part sculpture, part character creation, part celebration of queer expression. The project came to a natural pause when Covid hit and social distancing made face‑molding impossible, but the memory of that experiment still feels like one of my most delightfully off‑beat chapters
During the COVID lockdown, I was forced to step away from my full-time job—but that pause gave me something invaluable: time. I finally pursued something I’d always wanted to try—caricature art. I picked up The Mad Art of Caricaturing by Tom Richmond, a cartoonist for Mad Magazine, and devoured it. That book cracked something open. I began drawing cartoon illustrations, experimenting, refining, and eventually creating what became Stevie Illustrations—my personal brand of bold, expressive, satirical art.
I even took a stab at the NFT world, creating a series of trading cards inspired by Garbage Pail Kids. They were called Dragged Queens—a satirical collection that transformed the world’s wealthiest figures into drag personas, complete with campy names and cartoon exaggeration. It was my way of blending parody, politics, and performance into a digital art format that could provoke and entertain.
Today, I take commissions and collaborate with other creatives, bringing bold ideas to life. I’ve created retro 80s nostalgia pieces—bright, punchy, and full of attitude—that now live on mugs and merchandise for Generation X to enjoy. And I’m just getting started.
Cartooning and illustration aren’t just what I do—they’re who I am. This is the path I’ll walk for the rest of my life, creating more material year after year. It’s the only thing I see myself doing from now until I die.
