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My Story
Chapter I | It Started with a Fastball
Before I could walk, talk, or form a single memory…
I took a fastball to the face.
Not metaphorically. Literally.
At a rec league softball game, a throw missed first base and hit me square in the head while my dad was holding me.
Eight skull fractures.
Not exactly the ideal start.
But I stuck around.
Looking back, it feels like an oddly appropriate beginning to a life that would never really follow a straight line.
I took a fastball to the face.
Not metaphorically. Literally.
At a rec league softball game, a throw missed first base and hit me square in the head while my dad was holding me.
Eight skull fractures.
Not exactly the ideal start.
But I stuck around.
Looking back, it feels like an oddly appropriate beginning to a life that would never really follow a straight line.
Chapter II | A Trailer, a Pencil
I grew up in a single-wide trailer in Sumner, Washington.
We didn’t have much.
But we had enough. And when you don’t have much, you learn how to create your own world.
For me, that meant a pencil.
And a lot of imagination.
We didn’t have much.
But we had enough. And when you don’t have much, you learn how to create your own world.
For me, that meant a pencil.
And a lot of imagination.
Chapter III | Strength Looks Different
My sister Joanna has cerebral palsy.
Watching her navigate life with strength and patience shaped how I see the world.
It gave me perspective early, the kind you can’t really learn any other way.
You learn pretty quickly what actually matters.
And what doesn’t.
Watching her navigate life with strength and patience shaped how I see the world.
It gave me perspective early, the kind you can’t really learn any other way.
You learn pretty quickly what actually matters.
And what doesn’t.
Chapter IV | A Kid with Too Many Interests
I was everywhere.
Basketball courts. Skate parks. Notebook pages filled with sketches.
I loved sports. I loved art. I loved figuring out how things worked, and how to make something out of nothing.
I even sold drawings for a few dollars at the local bowling alley,
Not exactly Sotheby’s.
But at the time, it felt close.
Basketball courts. Skate parks. Notebook pages filled with sketches.
I loved sports. I loved art. I loved figuring out how things worked, and how to make something out of nothing.
I even sold drawings for a few dollars at the local bowling alley,
Not exactly Sotheby’s.
But at the time, it felt close.
Chapter V | Trying to Belong
I never really fit into just one category.
I could hoop with the athletes, sketch with the artists, kickflip with the skaters, talk calculus with the smart kids.
Everywhere felt familiar.
Nowhere felt permanent.
Looking back, I think that’s what made everything else possible.
I could hoop with the athletes, sketch with the artists, kickflip with the skaters, talk calculus with the smart kids.
Everywhere felt familiar.
Nowhere felt permanent.
Looking back, I think that’s what made everything else possible.
Chapter VI | The Artist
I was accepted into the University of Washington’s School of Art and later selected for a program in Rome.
From a trailer park in Sumner to sketching in the shadow of the Colosseum.
It felt like everything was lining up exactly how it was supposed to.
From a trailer park in Sumner to sketching in the shadow of the Colosseum.
It felt like everything was lining up exactly how it was supposed to.
Chapter VII | Walking Away
Then the doubt crept in.
Art isn’t practical.
Be realistic.
You can’t build a life doing this.
The kind of voices that sound logical…
Until they’re not.
Eventually, I listened.
And I walked away from art.
Art isn’t practical.
Be realistic.
You can’t build a life doing this.
The kind of voices that sound logical…
Until they’re not.
Eventually, I listened.
And I walked away from art.
Chapter VIII | The Life That Looked Right
I joined the Seattle Supersonics and spent five years working my way up to become the top salesperson.
Then the team moved.
I stayed.
I went back to school. Got my MBA at UW. Joined the startup world. Helped raise nearly $4 million in funding.
From the outside, everything made sense.
It looked like success.
But I felt like something was missing.
Then the team moved.
I stayed.
I went back to school. Got my MBA at UW. Joined the startup world. Helped raise nearly $4 million in funding.
From the outside, everything made sense.
It looked like success.
But I felt like something was missing.
Chapter IV | The Day Everything Changed
My mom had beaten cancer once before.
So when we got the bad news again, there was still hope.
But this time was different.
Within days of hearing the cancer had come back, she was gone.
I was there when she passed.
Shock and devastation followed.
My mom believed in my art before there was any reason to.
Before anyone was buying it.
Before anyone was sharing it.
Before I even believed in it myself.
She treated my drawings like they mattered.
Like they were going somewhere.
Like I was.
So when we got the bad news again, there was still hope.
But this time was different.
Within days of hearing the cancer had come back, she was gone.
I was there when she passed.
Shock and devastation followed.
My mom believed in my art before there was any reason to.
Before anyone was buying it.
Before anyone was sharing it.
Before I even believed in it myself.
She treated my drawings like they mattered.
Like they were going somewhere.
Like I was.
Chapter X | The Pencil Returns
A few months later, I picked up a pencil for the first time in nearly a decade.
No plan. No expectations.
One of my first drawings was of Seattle Seahawks star Kam Chancellor.
Once finished, I posted it online.
Then Kam Chancellor saw it. He shared it. Then he asked me to create a piece for him.
That was it.
That was the moment everything shifted.
No plan. No expectations.
One of my first drawings was of Seattle Seahawks star Kam Chancellor.
Once finished, I posted it online.
Then Kam Chancellor saw it. He shared it. Then he asked me to create a piece for him.
That was it.
That was the moment everything shifted.
Chapter XI | The Message
Around that same time, I received a handwritten note from someone who had known me since I was a kid.
It was unexpected. It brought me to tears.
It said:
"I saw your latest drawings on Facebook this morning. They made me think about your mother ~ and how much love and joy and pride that you brought to her.
I hope you know that each time you continue to share one of your many wonderful talents ~ somewhere she is smiling."
The message landed harder than anything I’d heard in years.
Sometimes, you don’t need a long explanation. Just a reminder and you're on the right path.
It was unexpected. It brought me to tears.
It said:
"I saw your latest drawings on Facebook this morning. They made me think about your mother ~ and how much love and joy and pride that you brought to her.
I hope you know that each time you continue to share one of your many wonderful talents ~ somewhere she is smiling."
The message landed harder than anything I’d heard in years.
Sometimes, you don’t need a long explanation. Just a reminder and you're on the right path.
Chapter XII | A Pencil Becomes a Purpose
I didn’t just want to create art.
I wanted it to mean something.
So I took a shot.
On Twitter, I reached out to Seattle Seahawks star Richard Sherman with an idea.
Create a limited-edition print. Sell it. Give 100% of the proceeds to charity.
He said yes.
The 200 prints sold out.
$40,000 raised.
That was the beginning of the #KEEGAN200 series.
Since then, collaborations with athletes, musicians, and organizations have helped raise over $800,000 for charitable causes.
What started as a drawing became something much bigger.
I wanted it to mean something.
So I took a shot.
On Twitter, I reached out to Seattle Seahawks star Richard Sherman with an idea.
Create a limited-edition print. Sell it. Give 100% of the proceeds to charity.
He said yes.
The 200 prints sold out.
$40,000 raised.
That was the beginning of the #KEEGAN200 series.
Since then, collaborations with athletes, musicians, and organizations have helped raise over $800,000 for charitable causes.
What started as a drawing became something much bigger.
Chapter XIII | The Work Continues
Today, I still work the same way I always have.
One pencil. One drawing at a time.
But now, each piece carries something more.
A story.
A moment.
A connection.
Because in the end...
It was never just about drawing.
It was about what the drawing could do.
One pencil. One drawing at a time.
But now, each piece carries something more.
A story.
A moment.
A connection.
Because in the end...
It was never just about drawing.
It was about what the drawing could do.
