Today we’d like to introduce you to Melani Candia
Hi Melani, please kick things off for us with an introduction to yourself and your story.
My story started when I copied SpongeBob and co. from a how to guide when I was 8 years old. I would love to continue this as the introduction to a persistent pursue of art that culminates into the triumph of my present day business – but that is far from the truth. And frankly, I don’t know if triumph is exactly in the word bank of adjectives to currently describe it.
That how to guide was an excellent distraction for my 8 year old self because at the time, I was staying home to watch my two younger sisters by myself while my parents worked. And before the pearls start feeling pressure from the clenching, my parents did the best they could with the work they did and the resources that this country allowed them. My parents were undocumented immigrants who worked multiple jobs to allow for me and my little sisters to grow up with safety, food, clothes, shelter, and all of the illustration guides or Barbie dolls our hearts desired. I am eternally grateful and one of the goals for my art business is to provide for them in return one day. And because I saw how hard my parents struggled, some of the items in my shop are partial or full fundraiser items to help other communities who are in need of support.
Now, my art career in 4th grade was not short lived. It lived sporadically through the years, flaring but never staying too long. There is an inventory of cringey fashion designs, morbid comics, and handmade paper maché projects that live in the memory of those years. But that is exactly what art became for a long time – a memory.
I became a teacher instead, like my mom was in Bolivia. I became a special educator and immersed myself into teaching. Art peeked out every now and again: in my classroom decor and visual schedules for my students. However, it was only a peek. As if it was checking up on me to make sure I was still doing okay.
I was absolutely not doing okay. After immersing myself into teaching, I continued that dive. Until I was drowning. I spent 5 years loving my students, helping families navigate their neurodivergent learners, and creating safety in a tiny little community. At the same time, I struggled to pay rent, I struggled to put gasoline in my 2000s camry, I struggled to put my shoes on in the morning to keep going. And in the middle of my 4th year teaching, I drew some really mediocre plants and felt the tiniest bit of comfort. Like an old friend stopped by to check in.
Only this time, I invited that friend back for coffee and lunch and dinners and drinks. I opened a (failed) Etsy shop. And I made a mistake. Because I remembered I was kind of okay at this, surely I can turn it into a side hustle and make some money and get some name brand milk. Eggs too, if I’m lucky. So that’s really where I went wrong. And I didn’t grow.
The desire to monetize a forgotten passion might seem annoying or dirty even; but it comes from a survivalist mindset. My parents had to survive in this country (that sometimes screams how much it doesn’t want them here), and I had to learn how to survive too – because sometimes this same country screamed about how much it didn’t want me here either. And surviving means shelter and food. And shelter and food means money. And if we’re following the story here – education and money are not in a relationship. They are barely in a situationship. Money won’t call education back.
And looking back, it hurts my heart that everything that I enjoyed, I had to think: how can this help me survive?
So if we fast forward to my 5th year, art was now in my life again and teaching was slowly leeching away at some pretty important parts. To be clear, I adored my students. They were my biggest accomplishment and my biggest motivators. I did not love the overcrowding, the unsafe conditions, the amount of paperwork, and feeling like a failure in a system that is consistently set up to fail. As much as I loved my students and the physical act of teaching, I loved me more. And I made the decision for this to be my last year. Simultaneously, I threw myself into art. I practiced, I tried to find my voice as an artist, I played, I made a website and stickers and memo pads. The summer after I quit teaching, I woke up and ended each day pretending I was an artist, pretending I was a full-time creative. And I launched my first official shop update, on a real website. I had a PO Box. I had inventory and spreadsheets. I was the real thing.
And it failed. Again.
My mom, my sisters, and some friends were my only customers for a long, long time. And at the time I remember thinking, but I worked so hard?
And looking back, I did work very hard. But that failure taught me that I had even more room, and that I could work harder.
So I continued, I kept practicing, I took the title of part-time artist and slapped it proudly on my chest. I got a tutoring job to fund my milk and eggs and my art. And I spent the last year tweaking, practicing, learning. Now we are in 2024, I have the YouTube channel, I’m content creating nearly everyday, I’m actually taking marketing tips and growing a little bit of a community across my social medias. I start taking a dip into face to face community building within my own area by doing markets. My summer shop update is coming. I think, oh my God am I better now? I think, I have worked so, so hard. I have an art market coming up and I have a little sticker shop stand my partner so lovingly made me. I keep thinking, oh my God I’m doing it.
So I launch my summer shop update in July. And I go to my first market.
And I get some repeat customers.
My mom and my sisters are first sales in my online shop.
I think one of the vendor friends’ mom was my first sale at my market.
And just like that I think, does anyone out there like my art?
And there is a response.
One of my followers on TikTok buys a charm bracelet.
Someone I don’t even know.
Someone that isn’t biologically obligated to support me has bought a bracelet. And a fundraiser print. And a fundraiser sticker.
And just like that, I know i worked really hard. But I have more room to grow.
And now I am in my fall update, with at least an even amount of family and non-family orders. I have my 6th market this Sunday. And while I wouldn’t use the word triumph, I can use the word growth to better fit where I am now and where I hope to be in another year.
I’m sure it wasn’t obstacle-free, but would you say the journey has been fairly smooth so far?
The road has been full of 6 inch deep potholes; a lot of those blocks have been mental. There is a lot of doubt and pessimism that sometimes come with creating something and having to rely on other people if it is worthy of a sale or a second glance. I am also a DACA recipient so having that constant instability of my status affects how much time I can dedicate to my art because I need to have enough to live and to pay to renew it. I need to keep an eye on the Supreme Court to see if they’re done playing with it yet. I need to continue in this country and give back as much as I can, while also acknowledging that I have a ton of privilege in that DACA status that many in the undocumented community don’t have.
Thanks – so what else should our readers know about your work and what you’re currently focused on?
I work primarily in digital art. I have recently started working with clay and hand painting key chains and charm bracelets as well. My art is textured, a little messy, and true to my brand’s motto: color outside the lines. I love outlining parts of my art freely so that it is imperfect, and almost like doodle. I also take pride in some of my fundraiser pieces. One of the prints is a Statue of Liberty surrounded by monarch butterflies and the names of the 6 key bridge victims on her tablet. Another is a print of a child protester holding up a sign that says “Free Palestine”. Both of these are partial and full donations. The Statue of Liberty is a 50% donation to the key bridge fund and the Palestine print donates 100% to a family with a 16 year old child with Down syndrome named Ibrahim in Gaza.
Can you tell us more about what you were like growing up?
Growing up I was very introverted, shy, scared of a lot of things not limited to bugs, grass, quick reptiles, losing my parents to deportation, etc.
I think because of those fears and the shyness, I did find a lot of comfort in being only in the presence of paper and pencil for hours at a time. Paper would only give me a tiny cut, and a pencil would give me a bit of a voice. They were not like the world I was learning was a scary place.
Pricing:
- Statue of Liberty $12
- Free Palestine $12
- Shop Small Tote $35
- Stickers $3-$4
- Music Magic $12
Contact Info:
- Website: https://mellipopsart.com
- Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/mellipopsart/profilecard/?igsh=MXRrc2x4YWhzd24wNg==
- Youtube: https://youtube.com/@mellipopss?si=fRNyKgeLk-f2y1G5
