For artist Brian Serway, creating art is less about reproducing a vision and more about discovering it. Brian lives with aphantasia, a condition where his mind lacks the ability to generate mental images. “I have a difficult time conjuring ideas in my mind,” he explained. “They work out to little more than vague shadows and potent feelings.”
This lack of visual language may seem like an obstacle for an artist, but for Brian, it’s a gateway to exploration. Rather than picturing a scene and then recreating it, he finds himself pulling from impressions, emotions and textures that surface as he works. Through each piece, he translates a deeply felt, though often unseen world onto paper, allowing his hands to reveal what his mind cannot. The results are hauntingly beautiful and belong to a style all his own.
“It’s funny, I didn’t realize I had it until just a few years ago, after reading a book and taking a cognitive test. Not being able to picture images in your mind — except in dreams — is hard to explain to people who can,” he said. “I have to map out ideas differently than most artists as they only come to me in fleeting shadows. I often have to grab a pen and paper quickly to jot down words and vague sketches to jog my memory. Most of my notes end up as strange maps with lines and scribbles. I think that’s why my work feels ‘shadowy’ and monochromatic, because in a way, that’s how I see things in my mind.”
Brian is a fantasy and folk illustrator hailing from southwest Virginia, currently calling nearby Johnson City, Tennessee, home. He primarily creates with water-soluble graphite and watercolor pencil, occasionally working with colored pencils and micron pens.
His work weaves together his love for folklore, the universe and wildlife into a personal artistic mythology that taps into the ancient, otherworldly and mysteriously magical atmosphere of Appalachia. Local flora and fauna are common in his work, from opossums and raccoons to crows and luna moths, as well as cryptid figures like the Mothman and Wendigo. Often, his creatures are placed in wooded, mountainous landscapes like those across Appalachia.
“I guess you could call it ‘unseen-Appalachia,’ a kind of emotional landscape the region evokes in me as I wander its mountains, abandoned towns and remembered places,” said Brian.
He describes that mythology as a subjective, ephemeral tapestry woven in his mind, where life and memory connect back to the Earth and cosmos. “I remember reading Carl Sagan’s Cosmos, where he talks about how the very elements in our bodies were born in stars. I like to take that idea literally, bringing it to life by depicting stars within the wildlife around me.”
Brian believes there are depths of real emotion that can only be fully expressed through fantasy and science fiction. He’s drawn to the otherworldly for this reason.
“There’s so much we don’t understand about our seemingly infinite universe, and that ‘not knowing’ stirs up a sense of cosmic mystery — a kind of Lovecraftian horror that’s both strangely intoxicating and terrifying.”
Pondering the great mysteries of the universe, growing up in Tolkien’s worlds and allowing his mind to wander in the space between wakefulness and sleep, Brian said that’s where his mind really comes alive with ideas.
His work has deep connections to Appalachia as a place, though Brian said he didn’t fully grasp the meaning of “home” until he went to college. When his parents split, they moved to South Florida, a place he initially resented. “But living there opened my eyes to new cultures and gave me a clearer sense of where I wanted to build my life. When I eventually returned by choice, my appreciation only grew.”
After college, Brian joined AmeriCorps, working with low-income families to help them grow their own food. He said that experience during his early twenties profoundly shaped him, deepening his connection to land, food, culture and people.
His Nana — who felt more like a second mom — also had a powerful influence on Brian. She grew up in Pocahontas, Virginia, near one of the region’s oldest mining areas, and he said her spirit and resilience became a part of him too.
“There’s a unique sense of community here I’ve never encountered anywhere else,” he said. “I carry that warmth and the strength of both my mother and Nana with me wherever I go.”
Brian grew up in a single-parent household with a mother who loved to create. She encouraged Brian to do the same from a very early age, even though the idea of making a living as an artist seemed out of reach for her in the 90s. For much of his childhood, Brian didn’t see ‘professional artist’ as a realistic career path. Not seeing it as a way to make money, however, allowed Brian to experiment and create purely for creation’s sake. “It became a true outlet for me, a way to express and release all the emotions I hadn’t yet processed.”
His mom has always been his guiding light. Growing up, Brian watched her endure countless hardships. “Yet, she carried them all with a smile that never faded,” he said. A talented artist in her own right, she was an incredible oil painter. He remembers watching her by the window, brush in hand as sunlight filled the room. “I’d sit nearby with my printer paper and crayons, trying to capture just a fraction of her magic. In both spirit and creativity, I’ve always strived to be like her.”
Although young Brian could not visualize a future as a professional artist, he has made a name for himself as a prominent voice in creative Appalachia. His work can be found in dozens of art shops and galleries in the region and nationwide, and he’s grown a sizable online community on Instagram (@bserway). In addition to his own art business, Brian is also the founder of HollerHouse, a Neo-Appalachian art gallery and gift shop in Bristol, Virginia, which celebrates the curious contemporary works of regional creators.
Neo-Appalachian art goes beyond what is traditionally seen as Appalachian art. “In my experience, people often view Appalachian art as traditional basket weaving, barn art, tapestries, landscapes — all of which I love, don’t get me wrong! But to me, Neo-Appalachian art goes beyond those forms,” said Brian. “It’s about being close to the region and letting its character shape your creative process.”
That connection casts a much wider net and creates a more inclusive artistic community. “I meet so many young people eager to leave the region because of its politics or the sense of isolation they feel from the wider world. I want them to feel the comfort and community that comes from the incredible range of talent and culture that’s unique to our corner of the world,” Brian said.
HollerHouse was built on this belief. Brian spent many years at his friend Justin Rabuck’s gallery and print shop, Horse & Hero in Asheville, North Carolina, watching him build a unique sense of creativity and community through his welcoming storefront. Around the same time, Brian was hosting art markets with friends and seeing an incredible community response to these types of gatherings.
“I felt a growing desire to create a permanent space to celebrate local artists — a place that challenged traditional ideas of ‘local art’ and made everyone feel welcome, without the barrier of high prices.”
HollerHouse, located in the heart of Bristol, offers a wide range of affordable artist-made items like stickers, bookmarks, postcards and pins, typically under $10 apiece, in addition to original art and prints. “This gives people a chance to support artists in small but meaningful ways, and it all adds up,” he said.
Brian’s careful curation inside HollerHouse creates an overall sense of belonging, an invitation to locals and travelers alike to glimpse the unconventional heartbeat of Appalachian art. It’s a place where people find common ground, where the atmosphere is equal parts vibrant and humble, a creative home for those who might feel like outsiders elsewhere. Being both an artist and an art shop owner has its unique advantages. Brian hopes that by wearing both hats, it helps build a sense of trust and understanding with the artists he works with, having been on the other side for years. Everything he does through the shop comes back to supporting his fellow creatives.
“The artist always comes first — showcasing their work, helping new audiences discover their unique talents, and encouraging people to invest in them,” he said. “That’s why I started HollerHouse.”
He doesn’t want the shop to make money unless the artists are making money, which is why he’s generally against rental agreements and similar setups with higher fee structures. “Now that I’m on the other side, I see why so many consignment operations struggle, especially in rural areas. We have to work hard every day to get our name out there and reach our community.”
Since opening two years ago, the shop has experienced tremendous growth. Brian and his team host regular local and regional art exhibits, live performances and solo shows. HollerHouse aspires to be more than a physical space; they want to be a haven for all kinds of creators who call their community home and a hub for local culture and connection. Witnessing this growth has been rewarding in ways Brian can’t even wrap his head around.
“I think so many of us share so much in common, coming from a rural and culturally rich part of the world,” he said. “It’s a shared struggle but also a shared warmth — and when artists get together to share in that communal celebration, there are very few things more culturally potent than that.”
As an active advocate for the Appalachian art scene, Brian hopes to inspire more people to stay in the area and embrace their creativity, even if it doesn’t fit within the traditional view of Appalachian culture. He envisions a future where Appalachian art doesn’t conform to old stereotypes, but instead speaks for itself: a voice from the mountains that’s modern, inclusive and unapologetically itself.
“We are just a small stone in a big pond, but I like to think we can create our own unique ripple. Bringing people together, getting them off their phones, and sparking real conversations with like-minded folks — that connection means everything to me.”
