Feature

IN THE MIDST OF LIFE

by Riley Murphy

When fans tell St. Louis artist Lauren Marx that they love her work, which happens often these days, her response is always, “Why?”

In fact, asked to describe herself, the first word that comes out of her mouth is cluttered. he explains that she means that both in the physical and mental context. Can hot-mess be hyphenated?” she jokes.

Marx had never considered herself an “artist-artist,” and she is not uite sure what to ma e of her rapidly expanding profile among admirers in and out of the art world. he’s amassed , followers on nstagram and made around , sales through her Etsy shop, which includes original works as well as prints, stickers, T-shirts and other items adorned with her illustrations. By Marx’s count, there are now hundreds of people who have her work tattooed on them one man had one of her pieces inked on his head, which she finds a bit odd. er most recent success was the release of her new book on May 4, Sacred Decay: The Art of Lauren Marx. our years in the ma ing, it sold out on preorders alone and was quickly scheduled for an additional print run.

Marx speciali es in a mixture of pen and ink and watercolor paintings that draw from the natural world. Her paintings live on the line between gore and an artist’s representation of the life cycle, almost always including animals inspired by scientific illustrations and Renaissance art.

Seven years after graduating from Webster niversity, the almost -year-old who tells the RFT “death is knocking any day now” because she recently discovered some gray hairs simply hopes that she’s made her city proud. n her second-ever oom call the first was dedicated to an appointment with her therapist Marx chatted with the RFT about all things art, the artist’s path to success and her unending love for the Lou. Answers have been lightly edited for length and clarity.

Let’s jump into it. What was your experience like growing up as an artist? t was, uh, it was pretty fine. There’s a lot of artistic people in my family. o no one really uestioned it. Looking back I was like, someone should have been concerned that if I wasn’t good at this, there should have been a backup, but no one cared. It was just pretty normal. veryone in my family ind of did something artistic. But I was the only, like, traditional artist everyone else was music and things like that. I see you went to school in St. Louis. What was your college experience like?

Oh, yeah, so I went to Webster niversity. graduated in . There were a handful of nice professors that were not full time. That’s when I developed anxiety attacks and the shakes and all sorts of stuff. And I didn’t really ma e a whole lot of friends. o, it was actually a really hard time. But I left that being able to handle pretty much any criticism at that point. Many people told me was going to fail as an artist because of the style of my wor and that they wanted to brea me. nd yeah, it was pretty rough. And I had a few people ganging up on me about a year after I graduated to try to get my degree removed. Why would anyone want to take away your degree? Why would anyone care about that at that point?

It was based on the thesis. When you graduate with an art degree from Webster, you have to do a thesis and have two fulltime faculty sign it. nd there was

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PREVIOUS PAGE: “Snake Bird,” 2019. ABOVE: “Sweet Damnation,” 2016. | LAUREN MARX

LAUREN MARX

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just a u e, where couldn’t have the two full-time professors sign it and it was due. So, I talked to the thesis professors and it was completely OK for me to have two adjunct faculty sign. And that did not go over well. But it got to the point where the department chair emailed me and said, “I’ve signed your thesis; you’ve graduated,” and he’s like, “I’m sorry this is happening to you.”

There were a handful of people that were incredibly wonderful and encouraging and super sweet that were rooting for me 100 percent. And they were great. They kind of kept me a little bit sane during that. So yeah, that’s kind of why I didn’t go to grad school. One of my professors said — he was so sweet — he was trying to keep me encouraged. And he’s like, “I don’t think you should go to grad school. I don’t think you can mentally handle it.” Like, you’re right. I absolutely cannot. Did that experience dissuade you at all from making a career out of art?

It was kind of out of spite at that point, after being told that before my career had even taken off that it was going to fail. And yeah, I don’t know how I got to that point, but when I graduated, I pretty much already knew I was going to do art full time. So, I didn’t have any jobs or anything after that. And it worked out; it worked out really well. And there’s still a handful that are very happy for me. If you can share anything with young artists out there right now, what would it be?

Oh, I would say do only what makes you happy. Don’t let people convince you to do something you don’t enjoy. And that’s usually what ends up making people not pursue it is after school or high school, or what have you: It’s not fun anymore.

And to embrace social media. Social media is more important than galleries, in my opinion, so people need to really take that and run with social media.

And yeah, do whatever the heck you want. Has the concept of being an artist changed since you’ve been out in your career? Or is it different than what you thought it would be in school, having social media as a new sort of tool?

Yeah, absolutely. Your older professors, some of them understand, but most don’t really get it that social media has kind of changed everything. So when you leave art school, the idea you have in your brain is you’re only successful with these shows and galleries and that is what you should do.

I still struggle with that, where most of my career’s on social media these days, and I feel like I’m not doing what I’m supposed to do. The art world has kind of begun to implode on itself because of that, because no one saw it coming. It changed so quickly. I would say, over the last four years maybe, everything has really really shifted to social media, and other artists have started to dial back on the traditional ways of pursuing art as a career. Has anyone ever gotten your work tattooed on them?

Couple hundred people, I would say at this point. I’ve even seen a guy get my art tattooed on his head. [Marx leans into the camera and whispers.] It wasn’t done well.

A lot of people have gotten it tattooed. A lot of people. And that, to me, is the most amazing part of my career. You like my work so much — the work I don’t even like — to have it permanently put on your body for the rest of your life. What is wrong with you? But also, thank you! Especially since I don’t do commissions or anything of that sort. It’s just people getting random pieces done. It’s pretty nuts when it happens, and what if I run into one of them someday? I’d be like, “Oh my gosh, don’t stalk me, but this is great!” When you’re working on a new piece, what is your process like?

So, I don’t really sketch, which is something I really need to start doing. I’ll write a little list of things I want, and then I get mad when I don’t like the piece because I didn’t sketch it. I never learn.

At art school, they made it like a big thing that concept is really important. And that burnt me out pretty quick. So now I just kind of go off of how am I feeling about

Even as her work takes o , Lauren Marx plans to stay in St. Louis. | LAUREN MARX Four years in the making, Marx’s new book sold out through pre-orders. | LAUREN MARX

drawing something. I will usually sit and have a million tabs open on my computer with all the reference photos, and I will just sit and work. The process just really depends on how I feel, if I want to do something more like what I used to do, or if I want to do like a rainbow unicorn or something. The unicorns and stuff are usually when I’m in a bad place. At this point in time, I don’t have a solid process. And that’s something that I’ve been really working on since the pandemic started. I kind of get distracted halfway through a piece and start another one because I don’t like it. And will keep doing that until I get sad. And then I take a break.

Has the pandemic affected your work at all?

Yeah, it has. I think, like, me and a lot of other people that I’ve spoken to, it made you not want to create. There is just so much bad news and chaos, and it just felt wrong, it felt wrong to want to focus on art when everything else was going on. And for me, the entire way I run my business just collapsed on itself in April last year. And I got so caught up in the stress and anxiety, I hardly made anything last year. I think made five pieces for the entire year. And when I was talking to other artists, it’s kind of the same. No one really felt inspired with all the things going on.

Especially with my more business side of my career, that did the opposite, where there was too much, because everyone was home online and buying stuff. So it got really switched around to where actually my shop takes up more time than art making.

I was pretty burned out to begin with. And I needed a bit of a break. And it was a good mental excuse for a break. So I don’t regret not making anything. It’s just sad that it did that to me and a lot of other people. Do you treat being an artist as like a 9-to-5 job? What’s your typical hours on a daily basis?

I tried to do a 9-to-5, but these days, which is something I am working on, I would usually spend six to eight hours a day just working on art and then spending another usually six hours on the shop a day.

So I actually spend most of my days working pretty much from when I wake up till I go to bed, and even weekends. So it’s a lot, but ’m finally hiring an assistant. And I’ll get my weekends back. And then I can ideally do a 9-to-5 for five days a wee . How has the city of St. Louis played a role in your works?

Well, I’m not sure if it’s done anything consciously, but I mean, I’ve only grown up here, I’ve only lived here. And so it may have allowed me to do more of what I wanted because I wasn’t in the chaos of being somewhere else and being stressed about living in another state or another city. And that we have such beautiful nature here too, which I really love. And our zoo, of course. Since I was a kid, that was my main inspiration for a long time: the zoo and whatever the heck Grant’s Farm is.

I think, because it is such a home base and such a stable part of my life, I can kind of push that out as an anxiety. I think really just being around my supportive family and especially all of our little plants and stuff out here. Did you ever picture yourself staying here and continuing your career here in St. Louis?

Yeah, I’ve never thought about moving. I don’t know if that’s a good thing, if I’m using St. Louis as a security blanket or not. But I never imagined myself leaving. And it’s a big part of why I’m still here. I don’t want to live somewhere else. I don’t wanna live on the West Coast; I don’t want to live on the East Coast. It’s just not my vibe. Yeah, I’m gonna be here probably for the rest of my life. And I’m totally OK with that. What’s your favorite thing about the city?

My favorite thing is that we’re a big town disguised as a city. So I like it when, pre-pandemic and post-pandemic, I could go pretty much anywhere and run into someone I know. And when I went to . . for the first time, saw this city of millions and millions of people. It was just like, I get to run into people I went to elementary school with. And I get to go to a bar with my old teacher from fourth grade. And I think that’s something we take for granted here, being able to make lifelong connections with people.

St. Louis is sooo into being St. Louis, that you can always count on seeing the same people over and over and over again. And I love it. The amount of times I just run into someone from a random year or someone I went to high school with at a house party. And that’s what I really like about it. That makes me feel all sentimental towards St. Louis. You described it so beautifully.

I’m very sentimental to the city in that way. You work with really interesting topics, and you’ve said that you’re inspired by religious symbolism, scientific illustration, medieval imagery, Renaissance paintings, stuff like that. How have these interests begun to make an appearance in your work? ’ve always loved scientific illustration. I think a lot of that has to

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do with my grandpa. My grandpa was an artist. e did more figure drawing and oil painting and owned a printing company — my whole family’s in printing. It’s annoying; it’s a thing. I’m very bad at it. And so he had a family room in his place that was full of these old art books, and there were coasters with butter ies in them, and there were Audubon prints on the wall, and I love that kind of feel of scientific illustration, especially li e Audubon. I get the feeling of my grandpa’s old room. And especially since he passed away when I was four, so all I had was that room.

And then, with the religious symbolism: So, I grew up entirely agnostic. I’ve only been in a church a handful times in my life. My family’s very removed from religion. So I don’t understand a lot of it. And I think it’s really fascinating from an outsider’s perspective, how the compositions will always mean something or, li e, this ower means something. I like the idea of being able to do what they did, which was create art around the idea of people who were illiterate. So they would make art in a way — I just thought it was so neat that you could read an entire story or a section of a story intentionally, which is why they’re usually very awkwardly put together.

And that obsession with Northern Renaissance and medieval work started when I took a class on Northern Renaissance art in college run by my old advisor, who has since passed away. It was just so fascinating, all the rich colors, and I had never really been kind of thrown into religious artwork before. I just thought it was so pretty, especially with Northern Renaissance — the rich colors, the small details that were just insanely realistic. And especially with how they were obsessed with depicting things the way they were. They can ind of see that in scientific illustration. I always wish I could do realism to the level of them. My style is kind of my attempt to be as realistic, and I’m not. And I think that’s a good thing.

But that’s kind of where that fascination started. And it kind of ended up melting together, because I just loved both of them. And that’s why I put a lot of weird symbolism in my stuff. And for a long time I used to only work in the same color palette as medieval art, which is basically primary colors plus green, a very strict color palette.

And yeah, I’m still fascinated by it, the crazy things that people would make. Have you seen the catacombs saints where they’re covered in jewels? It’s just like, “That’s nuts! And I love that you did it!” and it doesn’t make any sense to me, but I really appreciate it. As a person that doesn’t know much about it, it’s really neat.

“You Know Just How to Hold Me,” 2018. | LAUREN MARX

I also read that your own mentalhealth journey has really played a role in your works. Can you explain how this has had an influence on you?

Yeah. I didn’t have the easiest childhood, so I’ve dealt with a lot of issues growing up with what turned out to be anxiety, depression, ADHD. A lot of my work at the very beginning was just all about random animals stuff. I realized they are so negative, but it’s such a good outlet for my negativities. I decided to focus my work around the idea of how I’m feeling, and that’s kind of why this concept of my work these days is so hard to describe. Because I’m kind of in a whirlwind moment with my health.

That really started with my second solo show, called Flesh Blood Bone. It was all centered around my just complete anger around my immediate family, and needing to kind of close a chapter on my life. And it was kind of an experiment of taking hours and hours and hours and sitting in those emotions, focused on one person at a time. And it was so freeing.

It’s kind of like meditating on it, basically. So I tried to use it again and again, but my mental health ended up slipping, about a year

after that. After that process, a lot of my art, I think it shifted to be a little bit worse, but it’s a good thing, because it shows me trying to claw my way desperately back into a sense of normalcy.

And another reason why my art lately doesn’t have too much of a real meaning behind it is that finally started ta ing medication for my bipolar disorder about fourteen or fifteen months ago. And so 2020, not only was it stressful, but it was my brain slowly recalibrating itself into a sense of real normalcy. I had a really hard time working on art, because it was just like, “What is this even about anymore?”

Now, it’s kind of done its job. And it’s one of the best decisions I’ve ever made. And once this all craziness is done, I’m really excited to see what kind of work will be made on that. But I do struggle a lot. But I also think it’s a really good thing, because I get to have some sort of empathy towards people who are also struggling and get to use my social media platform as a way to be human. And to make sure, essentially, people who are struggling and just figuring it out, [don’t] feel alone because social media can be so closed off, so professional, so clean cut.

And so while I’m struggling, I’m trying to use that to help others. And, yeah, it’s been a real uphill battle for sure. But that’s just how it is. And so I don’t get mad at myself for it. I don’t blame anyone for it. Because it’s genetic, usually.

But yeah, it’s something. I think we all got a little bit of something. I want to talk about your book, just released on May 4. What would you like readers to know about it?

Oh, well, the existential crisis! No, I’m just joking.

I think it’s a really good visual representation. So there’s not a lot of actual explanations for what the work’s about or anything like that. It’s pretty much just visual; it’s just images. And I think if they know the ins and outs of my mental health, like what I just said to you, you can kind of see it — it’s really neat to see it chronologically. Like my ups and my downs and my attempts to progress.

I feel like I’ve really done something for my city with it. It’s nice. It’s nice to represent St. Louis in a tiny way. And so I tried to get as many St. Louis people involved in it as possible.

And it feels good to feel like I’ve done something for St. Louis. I mean, not to make it seem bigger than it is. But, it’s kind of like, I did a thing and I’m still here. I promise I won’t move to L.A. I promise!

“Unicorn,” 2020. | LAUREN MARX

“It took me about a week after getting the actual physical copy to cry about it and to be like, ‘Oh my God, this is actually happening.’ And it sold out before it even launched, and they had to make more copies. I thought after a year of delays, no one was going to care. And people cared.”

I think it’s wonderful. I think you’re a great representation of the city. What was the process of making this book like for you?

Oh my gosh, it was a very nice nightmare. So, Dark Horse [Marx’s publisher], they are the sweetest people. They are a company formed basically because artists weren’t being treated well enough. They just emailed me one day. I’d never heard of them before, and it was four years ago. And they just emailed me saying, “Wanna do a book?” I was like, “Sure. I don’t have enough artwor to fill the pages. Give me a minute.”

And then the actual making of the book: We had decided that it would finish in ecember of . o it was pretty much percent of everything I’ve made up until December of . nd they would ask me, “Hey, what do you think about this layout?” or “What do you think about this, or the cover?” And I was just like, “You guys are the actual designers, and I can’t do anything other than draw. And I’m not going to have any input on this whatsoever.” But they’ve been incredibly sweet. o was finally tiptoeing towards the finish line. nd there were book tours planned and launch parties planned, and they were wanting to do stuff for it. And I’ve never been to a comic con — they’re like, “You could go to comic con with us!” And I was like, “Yeah!” That would be a really great people watching.

And then, in April of last year — and I think they made the absolute right call — they just said, “We have to indefinitely postpone it we don’t know when it will come out, we don’t know if it will come out at this point. Like, we need to shut down the printing,” because they’re in Seattle, and Seattle got hit really hard. And so everything just kind of went away.

Unfortunately, people had started preordering it in December of . o, there were a lot of people that, understandably, were upset.

I had to deal with that a little bit, and that was really stressful. I refused to talk about the book for the rest of the year. I was like, “It doesn’t exist. I don’t want to hear about it.” Like, this is the most amazing thing for my career. And, not to be selfish during the pandemic, but it’s just like, “Aw, man!” because everyone thought it was only gonna last like a month or two. But, you know, [Dark Horse] said it seems wrong to release a book during this. And I completely agree. And I was kind of glad that they said no. o didn’t find out until about the end of January that the book was actually going to come out in May. I had no idea. They just were like, “Hey, everything’s backed up. The presses are here. We got your book!” And then I got my copy of the book by the end of February. And it was just, it was like, “Oh, it’s real. Like in four years, and it’s real. It exists, people can get it.” It took me about a week after getting the actual physical copy to cry about it and to be like, “Oh my God, this is actually happening.”

I have a bit of imposter syndrome. I don’t know if that shows, but I just thought people were gonna be like, “Cool.” Maybe I’d sell a couple. And it sold out before it even launched, and they had to make more copies. I thought after a year of delays, no one was going to care. And people cared. What would you say was the most surreal moment for you throughout this book-making process? would say when first saw the original draft of the book. I was like, “You fools!” [Marx laughs] I was like, “Oh, they like my work enough to do this.” And they clearly are betting on me. Like, how am I even like a big enough artist to have a book made?

What makes you passionate each day about being an artist in St. Louis?

It feels good to represent the city in some form. But, it’s mainly because of the people here, that’s for sure.

I would not say it’s certainly about the art here, as much as the community. I feel like I could work anywhere I wanted to. But I’m staying here and working here because of the people. I want to make them proud of something. Because I love St. Louis. n