Conversations with Trisha Mitra

Today we’d like to introduce you to Trisha Mitra.

Hi Trisha, it’s an honor to have you on the platform. Thanks for taking the time to share your story with us – to start maybe you can share some of your backstory with our readers?
During COVID, my co-workers and I transitioned to working from home. At the time, I worked for a green construction company in Savannah. We all felt so distant from one another, and I tried to foster human connection the way I know best: creating art. I would draw and paint regularly, sending photos to my team to cheer them up. Everything from doodles of cartoon fish in hoodies (“The Real Swim Shady”) to massive mountainscape triptychs. It wasn’t long before co-workers and their family members were asking if I took commissions. I was thrilled to oblige.

I lost my job during mass layoffs. In the uncertainty that followed, I had the opportunity to pivot. I moved to Atlanta and got involved in creative communities. I volunteered with PaintLove, an organization that provides free art programs for children facing poverty and trauma. I sold merch I designed at markets. I taught watercolor and acrylic painting classes. I collaborated with art supply brands I loved like ArtSnacks, Higgins Inks, and AD markers. I participated in group art shows. I designed and painted a mural for a university library, which led to me giving my first artist talk on the intersection of STEM and the arts.

Since then, doors have continued to fling wide open for me. I have no doubt there is much left to come.

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?
For me, the greatest challenges were internal.

When I first started posting artwork on Instagram, I had only 10 followers. As that number kept climbing, I was mortified. I was convinced folks from my hometown would see these posts and think, “Who does she think she is? She doesn’t actually think she’s that good, does she? She isn’t seriously trying to get famous, right?” I tried to delete my Instagram at least once a week for the first two years.

As I started getting more involved in creative communities here in Atlanta, imposter syndrome continued to ail me. No matter how much of my time and energy was dedicated to the arts, I could not call myself an artist. It felt like an insult to those who had earned art degrees, spent decades mastering their craft, and never strayed from that career path. Especially because I was still supplementing my income with other jobs. I can earnestly say I feel very differently today.

Recently, I was invited to be a guest speaker for a middle school art class at the Museum School in Avondale. I had the privilege of showing the kids how to draw their own school. The teacher had created a lesson plan about me. These students were learning about my art career and art style. The PowerPoint presentation featured photos of me, a quote of mine, highlights from my journey, and an art project inspired by my work.

Seeing all of that laid out so plainly in front of me made it crystal clear:

If I am not an artist, who is?

Alright, so let’s switch gears a bit and talk business. What should we know about your work?
These days, I continue to exhibit my paintings in galleries and art shows around the city. I lead an urban sketch group called Atlanta Pen Pushers. Through this work, I have partnered with Museum of Design Atlanta, The Cupid Project, and Urban Sketchers of Atlanta. I produce architectural illustrations and calligraphy for Georgia Tech, small local businesses, and even brides for their upcoming weddings. You might spot my art on posters, coffee cups, journals, ornaments, postcards, and a wide array of other projects.

I am most proud of my more recent accomplishment of curating book-themed art shows at Tall Tales Bookshop in Toco Hills. It is so rewarding to provide the opportunity for emerging artists to exhibit their work.

What was your favorite childhood memory?
When I was in 5th grade, my hometown put on a very special art contest. The children of Statesboro, Georgia, were asked to draw what Statesboro is to them. The winning artwork would be displayed in City Hall.

Now, I could have drawn anything. There was so much in that town that brought me and my peers joy. The local library, the bakery, the park, the movie theater. But no. Little me was determined to draw the most recognizable, impressive monument she could think of: the Bulloch County Courthouse. And not only was I determined to draw it, but I refused to draw it from a photograph.

You should know that my dad is a math and engineering person. He is not particularly interested in art, but he was very interested in supporting me. He drove me to the courthouse. He sat there for hours in the sweltering heat with a cup of coffee, a newspaper, and more patience than I will ever possess. He read, and I drew. Now and again, he would whip out a handkerchief to wipe the sweat from his forehead, but he never complained. When I admitted I couldn’t finish my masterpiece in one sitting, he wasn’t phased. We came back and did it again the next day. And the next. And the next. Until I was done.

I did win the contest, but I almost always forget to include that part when I tell this story. The real win is having a dad who believed in me enough to do that. Years later, I brought up those summer days and thanked him for investing so much in me and my hobby.

He replied “Well, Trisha, I wouldn’t have done it if I thought this was just a hobby.”

Contact Info:

• Instagram: @faulty_skillet