
Regular readers of Random Orbit will know, I think, that I’ve been trying to do a lot of things differently over the last year or two. Much of this has been regarding getting out of the studio, away from the drawing table, and especially away from the screen, and finding ways to meander out into the world where people are. As an artist, it’s very easy to find ways of never having to deal with actual people. It’s part of the job, in fact, to close the door and get work done. An odd dichotomy about this, however, is that the whole point of illustration is to communicate and to be seen. When I illustrate a book, or design a poster, its entire purpose is to get in front of people and say something to them. Yet, I can go weeks or even months working, all alone in my happy hole in the ground, producing reams of work, and never have an actual conversation with collaborators like editors and art directors, let alone the actual audience for these drawings I make. I illustrate a book, it gets published, and somewhere out there maybe someone reads it. Did they like it? I don’t know. I’m over here with the door closed and the blinds drawn, making something new.
A few years ago, after realizing that this wasn’t healthy for me, I began finding different ways to get me and my artwork out of my studio now and then and meet the people who might like to see it. I began teaching. I made a lot of work to hang at a coffee shop gallery. I’m back to visiting elementary schools.1 And I spent a recent weekend selling my work at a table at the Philly Bike Expo.
I love bikes. I love riding them, and I love the actual machines themselves. I own seven bicycles,2 and I built each of them from the frame up, choosing my own wheels and cranks and handlebars and brakes for whatever specific purpose I have in mind: roads and trails, going up or going down, long days with a lot of miles or short speedy afternoons in the woods. I started riding in 2004 as I was going through a divorce, and it got me through that as well some tough years later on raising teenagers. As a parent, there was only so much I could do to be there for my kids. Often, I felt helpless as we dealt with the various struggles that teenagers face. But bicycling was a place where the problems were of my own making, and it was up to me to solve them. It’s raining and cold and I’m forty miles into a difficult 100-mile ride in the mountains, and whether I get up that hill or not is my very own rubicon to cross.
As a result of this love of all things bicycles, I draw a lot of bikes. A few times I’ve been asked to draw them for an illustration project,3 but usually, it’s just because I like drawing them. I’ve made stickers and designed posters for races, and more recently I’ve just been drawing different kinds of bikes.






As a fan of bikes, I’ve been going to the Bike Expo each year for more than a decade. I’ve enjoyed walking around and looking at the lovely bicycles, checking out the new gear and accessories, and mentally spending money I don’t have. And I always like running into my friends, who are much like me in this regard. I’ve considered having a table in the past, where I might sell drawings or prints. But I never felt that I had enough work or the kind of work that might sell at an event like this. And, to my earlier point, I preferred to spend days in my studio making work than standing at a trade show hoping to sell it.4
So, what changed?
A few months ago my friend, photographer Abe Landes,5 asked me to join him and share a table where he could sell his photos, and I might sell my illustrations. With the new work I’ve been doing and the desire to be out among humans, it seemed like perfect timing.
I designed a nice banner, ordered a bunch of new stickers,6 created some new drawings of bikes, made a huge pile of prints, and hung out with Abe all weekend.
The show went great. At least, I think it did. I’m glad I did it. With no experience to draw from, I think these things are kind of a crap-shoot and I’d decided that just breaking even, making back the cost of the table and banner and some materials and printing costs, would make it worthwhile. And I did that. I'd hoped to meet some people in the industry who might want some illustration and design work later on, and I did that. I wanted to get people to find me on the socials and with this newsletter who might follow the work I do going forward, and I did that. I liked the idea of spending the whole weekend hanging around people who love the same stuff I do, and I did that.
Will I be back next year? If I ended up making a couple of hundred bucks in the end, I’m not sure the time spent preparing for the expo, and then the entire weekend at the expo, was worth that. So it really depends on whether these connections pan out, and how I work it all going forward. The bike industry is in a bad place right now (but what isn’t?). Races and events are losing sponsors, bike shops are closing, and the big brands like Trek and Specialized that have real marketing budgets don’t come to an expo like this. So we’ll see how the year goes.
While I sold a lot of prints and stickers and other things over that weekend, I also returned to my studio with some unsold merch. It’s all on my web shop now, and if you’re like me and you like bikes, or if you just like fun illustrations of bikes, get on up there and get some swag. Stickers look good on Subarus, prints look nice hanging on walls, and pint glasses look good holding your beer.
Thanks for reading!
I’m currently in the middle of a stretch where I am visiting eleven elementary schools in four weeks. It’s fun and it’s exhausting, and I’ll write more about it soon.
Yes, seven. You want me to tell you all about them?
I’ve designed jerseys and vests, and illustrated for Bicycling Magazine, and even illustrated a book called Bike & Trike.
The bigger point that I’ve been working through for two years was that I was just a children’s book illustrator after all, and I was fine with that. And it wasn’t really until I wasn’t fine with that that I began this whole process of getting out of my comfort zone.
Abe and I collaborated on a piece about his work at The Radavist last year.
A lot of people ask me where I get my stickers made. I have been using The Sticky Brand.
Great! Lovely illustrations, Brian, with that characteristic wackiness with gentle charm I've seen in your work!
Awesome! If we hadn’t both dropped many mulah on new bikes right before we realized that was happening - would have done! But no way I was letting that man wander around there with a credit card 😂 maybe we can catch ya next year!