The Early Days: Born Creative, Raised Practical

Luis grew up creative. The kind of kid who scribbled on everything, not because he was trying to make a masterpiece — but because his brain was always moving. Drawing, writing, rhyming, designing mixtape covers before he even had songs — it all came naturally. What didn’t come naturally was the business side.

Like a lot of artists, Luis didn’t grow up around people who made a living off art. He saw hard work. He saw hustle. But he didn’t see anyone turning creativity into a career. So the unspoken message was clear: “Do what you love on the side. Pay your bills with something safe.”

And for a while, he followed that plan. He studied, got the job, climbed the ladder.

Corporate Life: Good Pay, Great Title, Soul on Fire

Luis spent nearly a decade working in corporate sales. Not just working — winning. He became a sales director, led teams, crushed revenue goals, and racked up wins on paper that looked great on LinkedIn. But behind all that was a slow burn of frustration.

Because while Luis was giving his energy to a job that made him money, his creativity was sitting in the backseat — arms crossed, pissed off.

At night, he was still making music. Sharp, honest rap that pushed back against the industry’s shiny, fake expectations. He released albums on his own terms. He did underground shows that felt more alive than anything in a conference room. He also dove into visual art and design, picking up freelance gigs and slowly realizing that being a “creative professional” came with a whole new set of challenges:

• How do you price your work when your work is also your identity?

• How do you promote yourself without feeling gross about it?

• How do you talk about “value” when your value doesn’t come with a barcode?

That gap between what you love to make and how to get paid for it started to feel impossible to ignore. And Luis wasn’t the only one feeling it.

The Gap That No One Talks About

There’s a giant space between “follow your passion” and “run a creative business.” Most people skip over it like it’s a minor detail. But Luis lived in that space for years. The awkward middle. The part where you’ve got talent, drive, and a vision — but no roadmap.

What’s worse? Everyone pretends like they’ve got it all figured out. The art world is full of smoke and mirrors. Social media makes it look like everyone’s booked, busy, and banking. No one’s talking about the part where you Google “how to write an invoice” at 2AM. Or where you charge $200 for something that took you 20 hours because you’re scared to ask for more.

That silence? That was the spark.

Enter: I’m an Artist, Not a Salesman

Luis didn’t set out to become a podcast host. He set out to have the conversations he wished someone had with him earlier. The kind you only get with your creative friends after two drinks — when the walls come down and the real stories come out.

I’m an Artist, Not a Salesman started as an idea scribbled in a notebook. Then it turned into a few late-night test recordings. Then, thanks to a small but mighty team of people who actually gave a damn, it became a full-blown production filmed in-person at Flexwork Studios in Springfield, NJ.

Every episode is a sit-down with artists, entrepreneurs, and creatives from all walks of life. No Zoom calls. No stiff interviews. Just unfiltered, face-to-face convos about the highs, lows, and weird in-betweens of trying to make a creative living.

The Podcast Vibe: Honest, Funny, and Zero Fluff

Luis brings the same energy to IAANAS that he brings to his art: no gatekeeping, no pandering, and no pretending to be someone he’s not. Whether he’s talking about how to price a commission or why imposter syndrome hits hardest at 3PM on a Tuesday, he keeps it real — and he keeps it human.

This isn’t advice from a guru. It’s stories from the trenches.

He’s not afraid to talk about burnout, money guilt, or what it feels like when no one buys your work after you spent weeks on it. He’s also not afraid to laugh at the whole thing. Because yeah, it’s serious — but if you can’t laugh at how weird it is to write a “brand mission statement” as an artist, you might not survive this career path.

Luis Off the Mic: Still Creating, Still Growing

Outside of the podcast, Luis is still doing what he’s always done — making stuff. Music, visual art, design — whatever medium fits the message. His work is sharp, emotional, sometimes playful, sometimes heavy, and always grounded in honesty.

He’s self-taught in a lot of ways and stubborn in the best ways. He’s not chasing trends. He’s not here to build a personal “brand” that’s all vibes and no substance. He’s here to connect with people — the ones who are still trying, still learning, still figuring it out.

He knows what it’s like to work a 9–5 and still call yourself an artist. He knows what it’s like to land a big gig and still feel like a fraud. He knows that creative success isn’t a straight line — it’s a loop-de-loop with some surprise potholes.