​Creative

Excerpt from Travis Johnson: A Creative Life - Chapter 1

By Jeremiah Kalb

For many years, Travis Johnson didn’t think of himself as an “artist” in the traditional sense.

“I wasn’t a painter, sculptor, musician, or actor,” he says. 

Until his 30s, he viewed these persons as the only high form artists. 

“When I started learning graphic design, then later doing it as a side hustle, I saw the task as functional, serving a specific communicative or commercial goal over what I perceived as true creative works of art.”

Yet the desire to create has been one of Travis’s deepest yearnings for as long as he can remember. 

As a kid, he showed off his breakdancing abilities at school talent shows and other places.

“I loved hip-hop culture and still do,” Travis says.

Carol, a sweet-hearted black woman, lived one street over from Travis. Carol watched Travis when his dad needed childcare from time to time. 

She had a son named Trey, about eight years older than Travis. The young boy became Trey’s shadow. 

“I wanted to be like him and followed him everywhere,” he says. “I watched Trey turn their dining room with wood floors into a kinetic playground.”

Travis was mesmerized when Trey popped, locked, and spun like a tornado, defying physics with jaw-dropping flips and twists. 

Trey taught Travis how to breakdance to the rhythm of hip-hop music and the likes of Newcleus, Run-D.M.C., and Beastie Boys. 

“At times, I felt like a black kid trapped in a white kid’s body,” he says. 

He’d express himself by emulating Michael Jackson and edgy comedian Eddie Murphy.

Travis jokes, “There’s a new sheriff in town, and his name is Reggie Hammond,” quoting a line from Murphy’s comedy 48 Hours.

Despite pursuing other interests like graphic design, golf, and tennis, black culture and hip-hop have always remained in his heart.

During his mid-thirties, he cut loose with his breakdancing tricks once more to create a never-before-seen spectacle for his employees.

An idea took root in his playful mind. 

“One day, I challenged a girl half my age to a race in the back hallway of our office,” he says. “She had played basketball in high school, so I thought she’d give me a good run for my money.”

The two had been talking “trash” for months about who knows what. Travis was looking for a way to one-up her. He can turn just about anything into a competition if he wants to. 

With colleagues gathered around, Travis and Lisa dropped low, fingers tapping the hard, cold floor like beats on a drum machine.

Their faces were fixed with determined grins and embodied the spirit of the streets in a corporate playground. 

After a colleague said, “READY, SET, GO,” the two began to worm their way down the hallway to the hooting and hollering of their co-workers. Laughter echoed off the walls as the duo inched closer and closer to the finish line. 

Travis’s body rippled, creating a sinuous wave that traveled seamlessly from head to toe. Lisa, not so much. 

“I smoked her,” Travis says. “She was dumbstruck that this white guy beat her. I don’t think she knew what she was doing.” 

In a temporary departure from professionalism, where Travis wears a white shirt and tie to work every day, the two had turned the hallway into a playground of shared camaraderie.

Travis credits the victory to his practice during the evenings the week before the race. His children laughed and giggled as they watched their dad embrace the childlike joy that often eludes the adult world. 

Creating moments like these over the years has brought Travis much joy. 

“I like surprising people.”

Today, the father of two, who has been happily married to his second wife, Megan, for eight years, is speaking with biographer Jeremiah Kalb by telephone from his residence, talking about over four decades of creating memorable moments, his adverse child experiences, the painful sting and scars of divorce, and finding refuge in God’s pavilion. 

Travis was raised by his father, Mike, a general contractor. 

At a young age, he learned to fend for himself, speak his mind, and get creative with his words.

“My dad was always working and never home,” Travis recalls. “I ran wild on the streets.” 

He had unrestricted access to a neighbor’s copy of Eddie Murphy Raw, a stand-up comedy film released in 1987. Travis would often repeat what he heard and saw inside his circle of mischievous friends.

Murphy's comedic style in “Raw” is characterized by his energetic delivery, fearless exploration of controversial subjects, and ability to engage the audience with candid and often explicit anecdotes. 

“I’ll just say the explicit language and content was not suitable for all audiences, including me.”

Travis moved when he was 16. 

Already feeling uncomfortable in his skin and upset about moving, his self-esteem and happiness took a big hit.

Living in a small cabin in the woods and forced to ride the bus one hour to school, the skinny young teen felt isolated and alone for the final two years of his high school career. 

“Picture Abe Lincoln reading by candlelight and splitting rails. That was pretty close to my reality. My nights were long and lonely.

He was an “invisible nobody” to most of the other students he passed in the hallways.

“I never wanted to be the center of attention,” Travis says. “I'm naturally an introvert, but if I could have had one or two close friends, I wouldn't have been so depressed.”

Sometimes, he didn't want to live anymore but was too self-conscious to tell anyone. 

The dark clouds would temporarily break when he attended Ms. Simpson’s Intro to Business class.

“The assignments were fun, and I got to create things.”

He recalls preparing a business presentation for his teacher and classmates that was filmed.

Sporting a thrift shop suit and tie he bought from the Salvation Army, Travis inched closer to the mic, took a deep breath to calm the butterflies, and spoke for ten minutes with an air of confidence and charisma that he didn't know was inside him.

He credits his communication abilities to tireless preparation and revision. 

​“This was when I caught the bug and realized persuasive communication can keep an audience spellbound and hanging on your every word.”

Travis learned immediately that effective communicators get respect and admiration. 

It was intoxicating for the high school senior. 

“I knew right then I was going to go places in the world, but not sure where.”

After Travis graduated from high school, he worked for his dad in the summers, building homes to save up for college.

Through the years, while remaining devoted to each of his employers and church, Travis kept a busy and balanced home life with his son and daughter.

He took advantage of every opportunity to play with them in the park, build Lego sets, and create elaborate birthday parties.

“I loved putting together themed parties for them,” he recalls. “An African safari, Angry Birds, an oversized Mickey Mouse Clubhouse made of refrigerator boxes. Those were fun times seeing their faces light up.”

Today, Travis gets up each morning at 5:30 to work his side hustle, then goes to his full-time job. How does he make time for all of this? “A lot of discipline,” he chuckles. “I’ve never been a fan of the snooze button. When I get up an hour earlier, I feel like I end up with three more hours in a day. I’m happier when I’m creating.”  

As you probably realize by now, Travis is a big believer that a creative life is an amplified life. 

“It’s a lot more of an interesting life, that’s for sure,” he says.

And perhaps it’s no surprise that both of his kids, he says, “have creative bones.” His son, Max 20, loves Dungeons and Dragons and being the game’s storyteller, and Jessica, 18, enjoys doodling in her art book. 

​The “creator” will turn 46 next September and is excited about the design projects he is working on. “Each one brings its own set of challenges,” he says. “But they all have their rewards.”