Shannon Bulrice is a multidisciplinary artist who blends punk aesthetics, emotional storytelling, and emerging technologies. Her work is known for surreal, character-driven imagery that explores identity, softness, and defiance, using both traditional tools and AI-enhanced design. Shannon creates worlds where rebellion and tenderness coexist, inviting viewers into spaces that feel both strange and deeply human.

A self-described tomboy with a love for gritty, raw things and impossible fashion dreams, Shannon embraces contradiction — leather and lace, sharp edges and tender hearts. That tension between hard and soft drives her work, celebrating the beauty in struggle, vulnerability, and the messy complexity of being human.

We asked Shannon about her art, creative process, and inspirations.

Can you tell us about your background as a digital artist? How did you get started in this field?

My path hasn’t exactly been traditional. Early in my career, I was working in a marketing department that didn’t have a designer on staff. One day they handed me an old Apple computer, booted up CorelDRAW 8 (yeah, that long ago), and told me to make a poster. So I did—and then I just kept going. I taught myself as I went, eventually moving over to Adobe Illustrator 7 and Photoshop 4, and I’ve stuck with Adobe ever since. I’ve tried plenty of newer tools over the years, but I always come back to what works. These days, I use Photoshop, Illustrator, InDesign, and even Dreamweaver regularly. I’ve always been pulled toward tech and personal computers, so figuring it out as I went felt natural.

Even as I moved through different roles, design was always baked in. I eventually earned an associate degree in fashion design and a bachelor’s in marketing, which gave me both the creative foundation and the business side of things. For the last 10 years, I’ve been working independently as a freelance digital artist—partnering with clients I actually enjoy working with and creating space to explore the more personal, soul-nurturing side of my creative voice.

Your work lives at the intersection of punk and softness — how did you find that balance, and what draws you to both?

I honestly have no idea how it happened—I just like what I like. I’ve always been a tomboy who loved gritty, raw things and gorgeous dresses I’d never be able to afford. That’s probably why I thought fashion design was a good idea… until I realized I was terrible at actually making clothes. So much for the couture dreams.

Style-wise, I live in that leather-and-lace space—vegan leather, red lipstick, shaved head, maxed-out lashes. I like contradiction. Always have. I don’t fit neatly into any box, and I’m finally old enough to know I don’t have to.

That tension between hard and soft—that’s the sweet spot for me. People aren’t one thing. We’re sharp and gentle, light and shadow, rough edges and tender hearts. I think there’s something really beautiful in that mess. I’m drawn to the realness of struggle and the rawness of vulnerability. That’s where the good stuff lives.

What kinds of characters or archetypes do you find yourself returning to in your art? What do they represent for you?

I’m always drawn to the outsiders—the ones who don’t quite fit, who live on the edges. Big-eyed weirdos, soft monsters, genderless punks, broken things that still sparkle. They show up again and again because that’s how I’ve always felt. They’re protectors and survivors. They carry their scars like jewelry. They’re a reminder that you don’t have to be palatable to be lovable. You don’t have to be fixed to be worthy.

How do your personal experiences shape the surreal worlds and characters you create?

My life has been pretty unconventional. I grew up surrounded by mental illness, addiction, and all the chaos that comes with it. Those early experiences shaped everything—how I see the world, how I move through it, and especially how I create. I’ve always had this intense sensitivity and overflowing empathy that I later realized is tied to some neuro-spiciness. I don’t just observe the world—I feel it. I can walk into a room and feel what someone’s carrying before they even speak. It’s a gift, but it can be a lot.

Art is how I make sense of it all. The surreal worlds I create aren’t just escapes—they’re containers. They help me hold what’s too big or too painful to say out loud. I don’t create fantasy for the sake of it—I build strange, layered places because the real world is already strange and layered and messy. With everything going on right now, I don’t take my ability to create for granted. Honestly, it keeps me sane. It’s how I move the grief, the rage, the wonder, the beauty. It’s how I stay tethered to myself.

What excites you most (or makes you cautious) about using AI in your creative practice?

What excites me most is the potential. I know this might be a bit of a controversial take, but I’m ride-or-die for MidJourney. I started exploring AI tools about three years ago—I tried everything that was available at the time, and MidJourney was the one that stopped me in my tracks. Looking back at what I made then versus what the tech can do now is wild. It’s absolutely mind-blowing.

I’ve never in my life had a more insatiable thirst for learning than I did when I first started using MidJourney. About a year into experimenting, I began layering in pieces I’d created outside the platform—stuff I’d drawn, elements built in Illustrator and Photoshop—and that’s when it really started to feel like art. Not just prompts and outputs, but something deeper. Something uniquely mine.

That said, I’m not naive. I know this space is complicated. I care about where the data comes from. I think artists should be loud and clear about ethics, transparency, and credit. But fear can’t be the thing that stops us from exploring. AI is a tool—not a threat. I’m still the artist. The soul of the work is still mine. I use my own artwork to create, and if you’ve seen my pieces, you can tell. It’s got my fingerprints all over it.

How do you handle the criticism against AI art? Do you think your work was influenced by these debates in any way?

I hate to see it—because it’s always the same tired lines from people who’ve already made up their minds. They just parrot the whole “AI slop” thing without any real curiosity. If people actually wanted to have a conversation about it, that would be different. I’ve had some honest back-and-forths on Instagram and even changed a couple of minds. But if someone’s only goal is to tear me down without knowing a thing about me or my process? I block and move on. I’m not interested in expending any energy on that.

As far as influence goes, I don’t think the AI debate shapes my work at all. My art is driven by how I feel in the moment, like... every moment... it's actually pretty ridiculous. Human rights violations and what’s happening in the world around me have a much bigger impact on what I create than any comment section ever could.

What is a profound childhood memory?

It’s funny—I’ve always been drawn to big-eyed art. As a kid, I loved Precious Moments, Strawberry Shortcake, Hello Kitty… all of it. My grandfather had these 1970s Margaret Keane–style portraits hanging on his walls, and I still remember them like it wasn’t decades ago. I don’t know how much those early images really influenced me, but they’re burned into my memory. That softness paired with just a hint of something haunting—it stuck.

Also, I drew human bodies a lot in middle school. Let’s just say my religious grandmother wasn’t thrilled. I got in trouble more than once for those sketches. I didn’t think much of it at the time, but looking back, that tension between curiosity, beauty, and repression definitely shaped the kind of work I’m drawn to now.

What is a fun fact about you?

I don’t own a single pair of heels, but I have more red lipsticks than shoes. Priorities.

What else fills your time when you’re not creating art?

I am a wife and a mother so when I am not making art or hanging out with the fam I am building creative systems for small businesses, working on advocacy projects, and drinking too much tea. I love sci-fi and fantasy, dark humor, and deep conversations that get a little uncomfortable.