Ashley De Vor of Arcadia on Life, Lessons & Legacy

We’re looking forward to introducing you to Ashley De Vor. Check out our conversation below.

Ashley, so good to connect and we’re excited to share your story and insights with our audience. There’s a ton to learn from your story, but let’s start with a warm up before we get into the heart of the interview. What makes you lose track of time—and find yourself again?
I lose track of time when I’m working with my hands—whether it’s drawing a ridiculously detailed piece, finishing a piece of furniture, or digging up the garden. There’s something meditative about both processes. When I’m painting, I’m fully focused and put a lot of thought into every stroke that goes on the paper. When I’m woodworking, it’s the opposite—I don’t have to think, I just start moving. The repetitive motions of cutting, sanding, chiseling, or staining becomes instinctual, like I’m going into cavewoman mode hammering it away while drinking a beer until it’s finished. Both bring me back to myself in different ways: one through deep concentration, the other through physical rhythm.

Can you briefly introduce yourself and share what makes you or your brand unique?
I’m Ashley De Vor, a Phoenix-based artist who’s been part of the local art community for about 17 years. I’m mostly self-taught, after dropping out of art school in my early 20s. I work primarily in ink, watercolor, and gouache, creating bold, emotionally charged pieces inspired by mythology, folklore, nature, and strong, complex female figures.

I’ve always been a bit of a jack of all trades—I’ve dabbled in traditional painting and drawing, furniture restoration, sewing, upholstery, mural painting, resin, sculpting, taxidermy, digital and book illustration, clothing painting, photography, photo editing, and some graphic design. I’m also a bit of a nerd and tend to get bored easily (I almost certainly have undiagnosed ADD), so I’m always teaching myself new things. I’ll get curious or think, “Why would I pay for that when I can figure out how to do it myself?” That curiosity keeps my work evolving and gives me a wide creative vocabulary to pull from.

My early experience as a tattoo apprentice taught me discipline, fine detail, and precision, while my broader creative curiosities have kept me experimental and adaptable over the years. Most of what I make is for my own personal pleasure—or, occasionally, just to pay the bills. But every so often, I’ll take on commissioned projects when they suit my fancy.

Amazing, so let’s take a moment to go back in time. What did you believe about yourself as a child that you no longer believe?
When I was a kid, I was extremely shy. If someone came up and said, “Oh, what a pretty little girl!” I’d immediately start crying and run away. I was bullied all through elementary school and into early high school, so I spent a lot of time alone. That’s when art really came into my life. I made my own paper dolls, built entire worlds for my toys and cartoon characters, and realized how much I loved creating things during all those quiet hours by myself.

For most of my childhood, I didn’t think I’d ever make friends or be liked. But eventually, my art became the thing that connected me to other kids with similar interests, and that helped me grow into a more confident version of myself. Looking back now, I’ve learned that sometimes people might not be drawn to you at first—but they’re drawn to the things you create, and that can open the door to connection in its own way.

What did suffering teach you that success never could?
To quote Dr. Gregory House, “Life is pain!”.

You will never truly appreciate the successes in your life unless you’ve absolutely fought like hell for it. It’s the trust fund kid versus the underprivileged kid—one scrambles, adapts, and fights for what they need. The other takes everything for granted and never truly appreciates the value what they’ve been given.

I’ve hit points in my life where I felt like a total failure after losing a job or hitting a rough patch. I’ve struggled with mental illness as well, which would only exacerbate my downward spirals even more. But I had a great support system through my friends and family, and turned that panic and pain into resilience and tenacity. I learned to use my creative skills to support myself and get back on my feet while hustling like hell, and I will always be thankful for that.

Sure, so let’s go deeper into your values and how you think. What are the biggest lies your industry tells itself?
One of the biggest lies the creative industry tells itself is that you have to be an entrepreneur. Social media constantly pummels you with messages like, “Grow your business this way! Kill the competition! Use these hashtags! Pay an influencer to pretend they like you! Get enough subscribers so you can run our ads!”. It’s always about me, me, me—look at me, I’m better than everyone else—when in reality, these platforms are just trying to make money off of you. It drives me nuts.
Life would be so much easier if creatives just went back to working WITH each other instead of competing against each other all of the time. There are always opportunities to work with other creatives in a symbiotic way- you just have to be open to it. You can promote each other, suggest products and tools, give tips on techniques, collaborate on projects, or refer clients when a job doesn’t suit your skillset. We don’t all have to be islands.

Okay, so before we go, let’s tackle one more area. Could you give everything your best, even if no one ever praised you for it?
I still manage to post my work online even if I only get 10 likes, so yes. I refuse to pay for likes and followers, so if someone digs my work, awesome! If not then that’s fine too. Lack of validation from strangers on the internet won’t stop me from creating things.

Contact Info:

• Website: https://www.devorart.com
• Instagram: _devorart_
• Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/devor.art