Today we’d like to introduce you to Darryl Demps
Hi Darryl, we’re thrilled to have a chance to learn your story today. So, before we get into specifics, maybe you can briefly walk us through how you got to where you are today?
I’m Darryl Demps Jr., a multi-media creative native to Austin, Texas. My creative pursuits started with my older sister, who was a dancer, singer, and actress. Watching her pursue multiple disciplines made me believe I could do the same. Growing up, I participated in many sports and explored a few creative pursuits as well. I pursued choir, theater and design in my formative years.
Two things have always had an impact on my life: My Christian Faith (or at times, lack thereof) and jamskating, which is breakdancing on skates.
I started skating when I was 11 to escape bullying at my school. I was unhappy and looked for an outlet which ended up being rollerkating at a rink because no one from my school went there. Over time, I discovered jamskating and quickly fell in love with it. I would go on to win competitions, gain sponsors, perform at shows, and teach students how to skate. While skating remained a core part of my life, my curiosity for visual storytelling grew. In high school, I took design classes to explore a different form of creativity, ultimately leading me to Texas State University.
In high school, I took design classes to learn programs like InDesign, Illustrator, and Photoshop. I was accepted into Texas State University to apply for the Communication Design (just a crazy was to say graphic design) program but something interesting happened over the summer. I received a revelation from God that I was an Artist. At first, this revelation felt surprising—weren’t designers and artists different? And why art? I struggled with it because my dream was to become a pro-jamskater (wild, I know, but it’s a real thing). But as I later explored painting, I realized that my creativity wasn’t meant to be confined to just one lane.
The design program was difficult for me. I failed my pre-reqs for my pre-reqs. Tried again, passed, only to fail the actual pre-reqs. I tried again and got into the program. It was working a muscle I felt I had to develop on the spot and I found myself taking breaks from my design classes to find ease in the painting room. I found serenity there. Plus, there were actually windows in that room so that was a big help.
I ended up double majoring in Studio Art, with a focus in Painting, and Com Des. At the very end, with a lagging career in Com Des, I dropped that major to finish my Bachelor’s in Studio Art. I figured no design firm would look at my degree, they would look at my portfolio and I was spending way too much money. I graduated in 2018.
Stepping away from Communication Design felt like a leap of faith, but I knew I needed to follow my instincts. Not long after graduating, I had the opportunity to work under Gil Bruvel in Wimberley as an artist assistant. I would commute there 4-5 times out of the week. I got to see what a successful art career looks like and helped maintain it. I learned how to work with various power tools, build pedestals, crates, and learned how to properly handle and install art. The greatest thing I learned under Gil is that you can’t wait for inspiration—you just have to get to work. He was always juggling multiple projects at once, and I saw firsthand the power of creative momentum. I also learned the importance of working with a team, something every aspiring artist should experience. I worked there for about 4 years before aiming to be an independent artist myself.
In 2022, I joined the nonprofit ContraCommon in Bee Cave, TX. While there was some overlap between becoming a member at Contra and working for Gil, Contra quickly became a second home for me.
Becoming a member gave me my own personal studio and access to amenities like a woodshop and later a photo room that I organized myself. At Contra I expanded my services from just commission paintings and original art to photography services, logo designs, videography services, frame building, and canvas stretching services. I was a full-time artist and when one avenue dried up, it forced me to pivot to learning and maintaining more skills that I built up since my time at Texas State. I also got the opportunity to host workshops, facilitate art sessions, and curate exhibitions.
Towards the end of 2024, I reconnected my relationship with Christ. As my relationship with Christ deepened, I felt a strong call to transition away from ContraCommon and embrace a new chapter of independence. By February 2025, I had moved my practice into my home, where I now create full-time, offering original and commissioned artwork, design, videography, social media management and mobile photography services.
Now, I’m collaborating with God—and it’s been the most fulfilling creative partnership yet. The journey isn’t always linear, and not everything is revealed at once, but I’ve learned to trust the process. One recent project showed me this firsthand: God gave me specific instructions on what to do and what not to do. My creative instincts wanted to take another direction, but I obeyed. When the time came to execute, the setup He led me to was exactly what the final piece needed—it wouldn’t have worked otherwise. That moment confirmed what I’ve come to believe: my art isn’t just my own—it’s a divine collaboration.
Can you talk to us a bit about the challenges and lessons you’ve learned along the way. Looking back would you say it’s been easy or smooth in retrospect?
Not at all. I don’t think any meaningful journey is completely smooth, and mine has had plenty of challenges.
One of my first struggles was accepting my identity as an artist. Growing up, I saw myself as a skater first. Jamskating wasn’t just a hobby—it was my escape, my passion, and something I poured years into. So when I received a revelation from God that I was an artist, it wasn’t an easy pill to swallow. I grieved that shift because I had my own plans, and they didn’t involve picking up a paintbrush. But over time, I realized creativity wasn’t meant to be confined to just one lane. Art was another form of movement, another way to express stories and emotions that words couldn’t capture.
But jamskating itself wasn’t an easy road either. Confidence was a huge battle for me. I started skating as an escape from bullying, but as I progressed, I found myself in situations where I had to perform in front of crowds, compete, and even battle legends in the scene. Going from someone who just wanted to hide to someone standing in the spotlight was an intense mental shift. Skating, for me, was more of a mental warfare than a physical one. I had to overcome the voices of doubt, comparison, and fear while pushing my body to its limits. And then there were the injuries—constant setbacks that made me question if I could keep going. But every fall, every loss, every doubt-filled moment forced me to either step back or step up.
And all of this was happening at the same time as my art career. Skating and art were growing side by side, but I had to choose what to prioritize. Art became my main focus, but balancing the two was difficult. There were moments where I felt torn between the two passions—one that had shaped me for so long, and one that was calling me into something new.
Then came the challenge of learning the artistic craft itself. I didn’t grow up painting or drawing seriously, so stepping into the world of fine art and design felt like starting from scratch. The Communication Design program at Texas State was a test of patience and resilience. I failed my pre-reqs for my pre-reqs, got back up, failed again, and eventually pushed through. It was frustrating to feel behind while others seemed to have a natural grasp on things. But every setback forced me to develop discipline, and that discipline carried over into my painting practice.
Working under Gil Bruvel was another defining challenge. I saw firsthand what it took to maintain a successful art career—it wasn’t just about making work, but about building structure, having a team, and treating creativity like a full-time job. Gil didn’t wait for inspiration; he just worked. That shift in mindset was huge for me because I had to unlearn the idea that creativity is purely emotional or spontaneous.
And then, of course, there was the challenge of independence. When I left ContraCommon at the beginning of 2025, I stepped into a season of full reliance on God. No shared studio, no built-in creative community—I was creating from home and navigating new territory. It was (and still is) a leap of faith. There are days when uncertainty creeps in, but every time I trust the process, I see that I’m exactly where I need to be.
So no, the road hasn’t been smooth. But every challenge has refined me. Every closed door forced me to pivot. Every failure strengthened my faith. Skating taught me how to battle fear. Art taught me how to build discipline. Faith taught me how to trust. And looking back, I wouldn’t trade any of it—because the struggles didn’t stop me, they shaped me.
As you know, we’re big fans of you and your work. For our readers who might not be as familiar what can you tell them about what you do?
I’m a multi-media artist whose work explores themes of transition, identity, and spiritual revelation. My practice is deeply personal—it reflects my journey through mental, emotional, physical, and spiritual shifts. I work with wood, acrylic and oil paint, digital photography, videography, and dried flowers, incorporating Shou Sugi Ban, a Japanese wood-burning technique I learned while working under Gil Bruvel.
What I Do & What I’m Known For:
I create original and commissioned artwork that often merges abstract wood carving, painting, and storytelling. My art isn’t just about aesthetics—it’s about revealing deeper truths. I also offer videography, design, and mobile photography services, particularly for creatives and businesses looking to elevate their visual identity.
But at the heart of it all, I see my work as a collaboration with God. My creative process isn’t just about expressing my own ideas—it’s about listening, obeying, and bringing forth something greater than myself. I often receive visions or specific creative instructions that guide my artistic direction.
What Sets Me Apart:
A Multi-Disciplinary Approach: I don’t confine myself to one medium. Whether I’m burning patterns into wood, painting on carved surfaces, or capturing movement through videography, my work is about bringing different elements together to tell a deeper story.
Faith as a Creative Guide: I treat my art as a form of worship. It’s an active process of trust, obedience, and revelation. The way I approach a piece is different because I’m not just creating—I’m interpreting and translating something divine.
A Unique Blend of Techniques: My use of Shou Sugi Ban in abstract woodwork is something that not many artists incorporate into their practice in the way that I do. Pairing that with painting, digital media, and storytelling creates something unique to my vision.
Skater Mentality in Art: Coming from a jamskating background, I’ve learned how to flow, adapt, and push past mental barriers—skills that deeply influence my creative process. Just like in skating, there’s a rhythm to how I create, and I lean into that intuitive movement when making art.
What I’m Most Proud Of:
I’m most proud of the growth in my creative confidence—going from someone who was afraid to be seen to someone who now boldly shares their work and vision. I’m proud that I’ve been able to make faith the foundation of my artistic journey, and that I get to create work that feels meaningful—not just to me, but to those who engage with it.
At the end of the day, my art is bigger than me. I want people to walk away from my work feeling something—whether it’s conviction, reflection, or inspiration. If my work can move someone, challenge them, or remind them of something deeper, then I’ve done what I was called to do.
What would you say have been one of the most important lessons you’ve learned?
The most important lesson I’ve learned is that obedience brings revelation.
For a long time, I thought I had to see the full picture before taking action. I wanted clarity, security, and a mapped-out plan. But over time, I’ve realized that growth, creativity, and even faith don’t work like that. You don’t always get the whole vision upfront—you get a piece, a step, an instruction. And the revelation only comes when you move.
This lesson has shown up in every part of my journey. When I felt called to shift from jamskating to art, I resisted it at first. But when I stepped into that calling, my creativity expanded in ways I never expected. When I left my job working under Gil Bruvel, I had no guarantees—but that leap forced me to step into my own identity as an artist. And most recently, leaving ContraCommon to work independently felt like another risk, but every step of obedience has brought clarity and provision.
This applies to my creative process as well. I’ve had moments where I receive very specific instructions from God on how to approach a piece—what materials to use, what details to emphasize, or even what to leave out. My instincts might push me one way, but when I listen and follow the direction I’m given, the results always make sense in the end. The setup is always right—even if I don’t fully understand it at first.
At its core, this lesson has rewired how I approach fear and uncertainty. Instead of needing to have it all figured out, I’ve learned to trust, act, and let clarity follow. Whether in art, faith, or life, I know now that if I move in obedience, the revelation will come.
Pricing:
- All services will need a consultation first.
Contact Info:
- Website: https://ddemps.com
- Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/imdarryld/
- Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/@FineArtandFriends https://www.youtube.com/@iiCRUCIALii
