The best word I can use to describe my childhood is unconventional. I was raised by a single mom and never knew my father. My mom liked having pets in the house. We had three cats and one dog. She loved our pets so much she didn't mind that I was severely allergic to animals. I would cough and wheeze around the house, and was hospitalized several times due to having difficulty breathing. When I told my mom that I was allergic, she always said, “Oh Justin, you’re such a hypochondriac, it’s all in your head.” If it wasn’t the pets affecting my health, it was mom’s boyfriends. Due to the fact that she slept on the couch in the living room, there was little I could do to avoid them. Between the animals and the boyfriends, my home was a hazard to my health, so I turned to the streets. It was on the streets, where I met the individuals who inspired my artwork: The Artist, the Breakdancer, the DJ, the Street Baller, the Jazz Musician, and the Gambler. The turmoil in my childhood home that seemed unbearable at the time, was the best thing that ever happened to me. It opened up new doors in my life that led me down a path of creativity. As a result, I am who I am today, an urban Artist.

Becoming an Artist is never really easy. I've read over a hundred biographies of some of my favorite artists, and all of them seem to have had one thing in common—roadblocks. Whether it was player haters, as in Van Gogh's life; or life circumstances that occurred in Rockwell or Rembrandt’s life; or the physical disabilities that Toulouse-Lautrec endured in his life, it is rarely ever easy. It was not easy in my artistic journey and many people discouraged me along the way. My 6th grade art teacher told me I would never be an artist, and advised me to quit. I can see where he was coming from; there were two kids in the class who proficiently copied Michelangelo’s drawings, which was great for them but I preferred to draw crack addicts and prostitutes. He never approved of my imagery and thought I was a “low brow” artist before there were “low brow” artists. If he could only see me now…but he’s probably dead.

In high school, my next nemesis was the dean of the fine arts program, who told me over and over again, that I was not good enough to be an artist. Every year there was a contest for a financial scholarship. I went to her in hopes that she would submit my artwork, but refused every single time I was told that my work was “too street…too subversive.” And as the dean, her word was final. My senior year I drew until my eyes were spinning, and could not draw anymore, I did what any artist would do; I drew more, desperately trying to create good work for the competition. When the time came, I brought her what I thought was my best work yet. But of course she said the same thing, “It’s too subversive, too street, and you will never be any good!” I brought my work home to my mom, told her what happened, and she said what any typical New York mom would say, “**** her! Is she nuts? I will give you the money. You enter the competition.” With my mom’s support, I entered the competition and won. **** the dean! That is the story that I always tell my students. It is a story that is universally relatable. No matter what anyone tells you, you have to believe in yourself and rise above the negativity. It also helps to have a supportive mom, even though she didn’t believe in my allergies.

Years later, when I showed my publisher my piece, “The DJ”, he didn’t think anyone would buy it. But I didn’t give up. I kept my head up, and “The DJ” became my most popular print to date.

Most people were negative about my work early in my career, because they never saw anything like it out there; they did not know what to do with it. I first came out with my print of “Green Street” to the buyers of the poster world, and they all reacted the same way “who is going to buy this”? When one heroic distributor in Canada picked it up, and released it to the college market, we sold thousands over night. Like sheep, the rest of the distributors followed, and started carrying the piece.

However, the flip side of the success was that several companies started infringing on my copyright and ripping off my art. These crooks would scan my work, print my posters, and sell them on the black market. I don’t make the majority of my sales profit from posters, so I am already swimming upstream. When the popularity of my work exploded, I was getting jerked from all angles. They ripped me off for thousands of dollars. Sadly, this still happens today. It takes a lot of emotional energy to get people to understand that their illegal actions hurt my work. Having an art business is hard enough, let alone dealing with individuals unlawfully making profits off my work, without giving me credit. Like most artists, my work is incredibly meaningful to me. My art is a representation of my experiences, and showcases the people I met early in my life. It is wrong for people to take advantage of my expression, of my experiences and turn them into commodities. In doing this, there is no credit or appreciation for the years of my life that went into my paintings. Owning one of my pieces is like giving a nod to my culture.
Our culture. As an artist, and a person, that is important to me.

I am proud to say that today I am a successful artist, but I still have dreams. My next goal is to see my work in a museum. Despite my success and international popularity, museum directors will not show my work. Just like when I was in school, my art is still considered too street and unrefined. Ironically, painters like Breugel, Bosch and Bellows were painting the street scenes of their day, and in styles considered radical in those times. I find it absurd that art museums have this negative attitude toward my work, considering I am just as trained and hard working as the artists whose paintings are shown there. In fact, most of the time, I have more classical training than many of the artists in museums. Movements in paintings are constantly shifting, my art is a style that, I feel, speaks directly to people of today, who live in a world where urban and street culture is evident and prevalent in our society. If art museums want to claim to be some sort of treasury of culture, they should not be selective of which cultures they include. Hip hop is real. Hip hop is here to stay, and I'm not only the first artist to paint Hip hop culture, I am the artistic voice of this entire generation, who grew up in the culture or who loves the culture. The biggest global culture on this earth! They are doing a disservice to the people, by ignoring the art of the streets.

“BUA’s power as an artist stems from his ability to make us relate to what is universal – regardless of our ethnicity or cultural upbringing. His work creates ONENESS as his vision guides us to transcend divisive boundaries and celebrate what moves everyone. passion, emotion, and love. BUA’s world is a community everyone belongs to.”
-Eva Longoria