Rising Stars: Meet Tree “Lyiness” of Westside of Atlanta

Today we’d like to introduce you to Tree “Lyiness”.

Hi Lyiness, thanks for sharing your story with us. To start, maybe you can tell our readers some of your backstory.
I once gave everything to a career that quietly chose cheaper over devoted. That moment didn’t break me—it redirected me. I made a vow: that kind of energy would never again be spent building someone else’s dream.
Eight years ago, with equal parts stubbornness and pure determination , I poured myself fully into my art and into being seen. I carved my own path through whatever work I could find—vending, art shows, long days, longer nights. It hasn’t been easy. I’ve sacrificed more than most people ever see, but I’ve never stopped.
At this point, art isn’t just what I do—it’s what keeps me alive. I create all day, and when I get home, I create more. I don’t turn it off. I don’t want to.
I’m not your typical artist. I’m a “muse-est”—someone who lives in a constant state of inspiration, pulling magic from found materials, from overlooked fragments, from the in-between moments. I don’t just make art; I live as both the muse and the maker. Musing isn’t something I visit—it’s where I exist.

Would you say it’s been a smooth road, and if not what are some of the biggest challenges you’ve faced along the way?
Smooth road? I’d love to meet her—sounds like she has great luck and a gallery waiting with snacks.
Me? I got stubbornness. Top tier. Olympic level.
Eight years in, and I still haven’t had an official solo show. Galleries? Mostly uninterested. One even told me they “couldn’t give away animal art.” Bold of them to assume my creatures want to be given away at all. I had an art manager once—sold me big dreams and then emailed me opportunities I had already signed myself up for. Groundbreaking.
Still, every week I’m out here checking calls, applying to shows, showing up early, set up tight, doing exactly what I say I’ll do. And somehow—still overlooked. It’s almost impressive at this point.
But here’s the thing: I’ve never been built to follow a path. I carve mine—crooked, bumpy, occasionally held together with glue and sheer will. When it gets rough, I don’t stop. I reroute. I invent. I keep going.
Because when you’re doing what you were meant to do, quitting isn’t really an option. And I believe this—deep in my bones—the universe may take its sweet time, but it does show up.
Probably late. Probably weird. But it shows up.

Appreciate you sharing that. What else should we know about what you do?
I make art out of things that were never meant to be art—and somehow, they end up with more personality than most people at a dinner party.
I specialize in one-of-a-kind wearable bags, Acrylic art, needle felt, and dried nature & cardboard sculptural works. Lost objects, scraps, oddities—if it’s been overlooked, I see potential. My work lives somewhere between fashion, storytelling, and a slightly mischievous dream. I create bags that feel like companions, creatures that look like they have secrets, and pieces that refuse to blend into the background.
I’m known for my whimsical, “what am I looking at and why do I love it?” aesthetic. Nothing I make is duplicated.
What I’m most proud of isn’t just the work—it’s the way I’ve built a life around it. For years, I’ve shown up again and again, hauling my world to markets, shows, and wherever someone might pause long enough to feel something. I’ve kept going without shortcuts, without a clear path, and definitely without a backup plan.
What sets me apart? I don’t separate life from art. I live as both the maker and the muse. I’m constantly collecting, noticing, imagining. My work isn’t about perfection; it’s about transformation. Taking the discarded and giving it presence, humor, and a second, much louder life.
In short—I don’t just create things. I create characters, conversations, and tiny rebellions you can carry. My studio is located at Echo Contemporary art Gallery, 694 Jefferson st, Atlanta, Ga. (Studio #1) come visit!

Can you talk to us about how you think about risk?
My relationship with risk? Oh, we’re very close. Borderline codependent.
I take risks constantly—sometimes so often it feels less like “risk-taking” and more like a lifestyle choice I forgot to opt out of. I’ve paid plenty of non-refundable show fees… Then Georgia weather does what it does. (Georgia weather is an artist of chaos.)
But that’s part of it. Betting on a sunny day, betting on foot traffic, betting that people will connect with something I made out of what used to be “nothing.” Every show is a little gamble, every setup a tiny leap of faith with a folding table.
And then there are the creative risks—the experiments that might completely fail, or might become something I’ve never seen before. I follow ideas that don’t always make sense at first, trusting that if I keep going, they’ll reveal something worth holding onto.
I’ve taken bigger risks too. At one point, I was literally living in my truck—still creating, still showing up, still choosing this path. It wasn’t glamorous, but it was honest. And it proved something important: I’m not just committed when it’s comfortable.
I don’t think of risk as reckless. I think of it as necessary. If you’re building something that doesn’t already exist, there’s no safe route. You have to invent it as you go.
For me, risk isn’t about the chance of failing—it’s about the refusal to stay still. And so far, every leap, no matter how wild, has led me somewhere worth going.

Pricing:

• my prices range from $3-$8000 I have SOMETHING for every budget as I want the world to have my art!
• I do FAF (FREE ART FRIDAY) & Give Aways

Contact Info:

• Website: https://lyiness.wordpress.com/
• Instagram: @lyiness, @Lyinesshawks , @Lyinesswhimsicalwear
• Youtube: @Lyiness