The Mouse That Remembered Me
These aren’t just characters. These are anchors.
While I was forgetting who I was, Mickey didn’t forget me.
He showed up in flash days, pancakes, blankets, stickers, tattoos, drawings, earrings, and inside jokes.
Clients started calling me the Mickey King.
I didn’t plan that.
But when I look back now, I can see it:
Mickey was there when I needed to create without overthinking.
He reminded me of joy when I couldn’t find it in anything else.
And Rockwell? He was the first artist that ever moved me.
Both of them show up here; not as fan art, but as fossils from my foundation.
The AMART Mickey
This client traveled in from Canada.
They didn’t ask for a Mickey. They asked for my Mickey.
That’s when I realized this had become something bigger than nostalgia.
I’ve done enough of these now that people recognize the rhythm.
They know the slight lean, the boldness of the feet, the little shift in the face.
This one’s paired with my signature—and that felt right.
It’s a symbol now. Of all of it.
Mouse With a Message
This isn’t satire.
This is a declaration.
Vintage Mickey didn’t play it safe
and neither do I.
This piece is based on real WWII-era propaganda art, reimagined in my linework and tone.
It’s not subtle. That’s the point.
Some tattoos are about identity.
This one’s about alignment.
Coast to Coast
She showed up to the first Mickey Flash Day in Everett.
That stuck with me.
She came back later with a commission from another artist and something deeply personal. She’s a marathon runner. A Disney lifer. Probably has better Mickey gear than I do.
I reinterpreted the art in my style and added just a little extra reverence.
From Disneyland to Disney World.
From the start line to the finish.
From fan to client.
Coast to coast.
