John Hargrett - April Featured Artist
- Matt Jennings
- 5 days ago
- 2 min read
Before John Hargrett ever picked up a can of spray paint or carved a portrait into wood grain, he was a quiet kid studying his mother’s anatomy textbooks. While she worked long shifts as a nurse, he traced the diagrams of muscles and bone structures, learning to see the body in lines, curves, and movement. John studied comic books and graffiti, similarly, sharpening a strong artistic sensibility.
Years later, due to unfortunate circumstances, John found himself in prison — isolated, with more time than he’d ever had. What could have been a dead end instead became a turning point. “Art became a way to cope with my circumstances and the anger I felt,” he says. He studied obsessively, watching tutorials, copying panels, and working until each piece looked the way he wanted. Art became discipline. It became survival.
Reentry brought its own challenges. Navigating life as someone recently incarcerated is difficult; navigating it as a Black man in Idaho added another layer of caution and invisibility. Still, he kept drawing — in treatment classes, in notebooks, on whatever scraps he could find.
One afternoon, John finished a session at the Veterans Treatment Court program, located next door to Catalyst. Curious, he walked in and found something he hadn’t felt in a long time: ease. Acceptance. Community. People who saw him as an artist with potential. Catalyst quickly became a place where he could experiment, ask questions, and grow.
In that supportive environment, something opened in him. That’s when he created My Heart.
What began as an experiment with wood stain and an embroidered‑effect design became a deeply personal piece. The wood grain — “nature’s brush stroke,” he says — gave the heart warmth and depth. The meaning, drawn from a song he loved, became a mantra: keep your heart. Keep it true. Keep it grounded. Keep it yours. “It became my heart,” he says. “It’s a piece I’ll never sell.”
For the first time, he didn’t hide the finished piece in the garage. He brought it to Catalyst — and people believed in it. They believed in him. That encouragement carried him into Freak Alley, into local markets and festivals, and into seeing himself as an artist with something real to offer. My Heart wasn’t just a breakthrough in technique; it was a breakthrough in identity.
Today, John creates while raising a large family — seven children — and working full‑time in a senior role at Micron. Most of his art is made late at night, after homework, bedtime routines, and long shifts. He also serves as a peer mentor for others in treatment court, offering the support he once needed himself.
Whether he’s painting in the garage, setting up at markets, or sharing new work with Catalyst, John creates with intention. Every piece carries a story of discipline, healing, and choosing to keep going. And every time someone connects with his work, it reinforces the truth he’s still learning to claim: that what he makes has value, and so does he.
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