Meet Tra’ Slaughter | Dad/Artist/Creative/Novelist/Entrepreneur/Person, just like you.

We had the good fortune of connecting with Tra’ Slaughter and we’ve shared our conversation below.

Hi Tra’, have you ever found yourself in a spot where you had to decide whether to give up or keep going? How did you make the choice?
I have never looked at it as a choice. Art has been the anchor in my life going back as far as 2nd grade, which is the first time I received praise or recognition for my art. And, that instance firmly, and unfortunately, the ideology that this was how I would garner the acknowledgment and recognition that I felt I didn’t deserve for simply being me. Not a healthy viewpoint or pressure to put on oneself. On the other side of that coin, this belief and value assignment that I placed upon myself has kept me creating art for almost 40 years, and I can only dream that another 40 are on the horizon. I received a degree in Graphic Design in the early 2000s, and worked in that field professionally for several years. But, art was always at the forefront of my thoughts and desires. In 2012 when my daughter was born, I shifted from graphic designer to stay at home dad/artist/freelancer, and art has been my source of income and ever since. Over the past 15 or so years, I have seen countless talented artists burn out, give up or just completely remove art making from their lives and each time, it has saddened me but also ignited my desire for success as an artist. Recently, my daughter, Harper and I created and have been building a new apparel brand, ‘Word to Your Wardrobe’. Slang-focused streetwear, or as we like to refer to it, ‘Slangwear’, featuring words and phrases from the 80s thru today, categorized by each decade. Slang is a language we all speak or have spoken, but it is also a quickly revolving lexicon, with a majority of slang dying off with each turn of the decade. We are “Saving the Slang”, one decade at a time. WTYW and s bridging generational gaps through language. We are bringing back the forgotten Bangers of the past, and introducing Gen X and Millenials to the song of today.

Can you open up a bit about your work and career? We’re big fans and we’d love for our community to learn more about your work.
I’m Tra’, a Houston-based multimedia artist, graphic designer by trade, single-dad sidekick to a brilliant 12-year-old named Harper, and a loud-n-proud mental-health advocate. Art isn’t just what I do; it’s the most honest language I speak. Twenty-five years ago the Art Institute of Houston lured me here, and I’ve been remixing this city’s grit and grace into canvases, murals, assemblage, and wearable slang ever since.

My journey zig-zags. I enlisted in the Air Force, served hard, and left harder—dishonorably discharged after a failed weed test. I own that chapter: it taught me accountability, resilience, and the difference between someone else’s rulebook and my own moral compass. Today I channel that experience into board work with a veteran-focused nonprofit, having co-founded and chaired a non-profit in 2019 that assisted artists experiencing health, financial or natural crises, providing over $650,000 to artists nationwide, (dissolved in 2022), helping former service members punch through red tape to access mental-health care. My brushes are my bullhorns; every sale funds the next vet’s therapy session.

Versatility is my chosen super-power. One week I’m oil-painting baroque-scale portraits; the next I’m QC’ing screen-printing Gen-Z slang tees for Word to Your Wardrobe—my father-daughter label that proves hustle can double as quality time. I refuse stylistic straitjackets: realism, abstract expressionism, text-based collage, digital mash-ups—whatever tells the story best, I’ll master the medium then break it in half.

Living off art feels like riding Houston’s legendary Texas Cyclone at age nine: hands up, thrilled, then suddenly white-knuckled and praying for the next crest. But I stay on the ride because Harper is watching. I want her to see determination, the dignity of hard work, and the courage to keep showing up—even when the knees shake. Life is a one-shot gift; dying with dreams still shrink-wrapped is my greatest fear. So I paint louder, dream bigger, and leave no empty journals for regret to crawl into.

What sets me apart? Brutal transparency, genre-fluid craft, and a mission that outlives the signature. My legacy won’t be a neat row of sold-out shows; it’ll be a community that believes creativity can heal, feed, and free us—one canvas, one T-shirt, one brave conversation at a time.

If you had a friend visiting you, what are some of the local spots you’d want to take them around to?

If my best friend came to town, we’d skip the tourist traps and keep it soulful. First stop? A slow morning in the Heights—coffee at Antidote, then a walk through the Menil Collection and Rothko Chapel to set the tone. From there, it’s dive bar and vinyl time—The Continental Club, Shoeshine Charley’s Big Top, or whatever backdoor spot has live blues or weird jazz that night.

We’d hit a gallery crawl in Montrose or EaDo, maybe peek into Box13 or catch a pop-up somewhere raw and unpolished. I’d drag them through some of the more underrated museums like the Houston Center for Contemporary Craft or the MFAH’s Kinder building, then decompress with tacos—always tacos. El Taconazo food truck or Ninfa’s on Navigation, depending on the mood.

Midweek, we’d escape to Galveston. No big plans, just the beach, rent beach cruisers on the Seawall, ferry to Bolivar, just to feed the Seagulls, shrimp po’boys, and whatever strange thrift store we stumble into. The goal wouldn’t be to show off Houston—it’d be to feel it. Messy, beautiful, vibrant, humid, alive. A little like me.

Shoutout is all about shouting out others who you feel deserve additional recognition and exposure. Who would you like to shoutout?
As any professional artist can attest to, at some point, and perhaps many, we have been told that what we are doing is great, but we should think about getting a “real job”. And, as any professional artist can also attest to, being an artist is one of the toughest career paths a person can take. An artist is responsible for: the idea, the creating, the self-doubt that creating also has to have tagging along, promoting or the work (collectors do not come knocking out of the blue), via emails, social media, networking events, exhibitions, cold calls, countless, and even more countless rejection, continued perseverance, skin thicker than that of a Rhinoceros, administrative duties of running your own business, accounting, and on and on. I think that above any one of those items listed above, it’s the thick skin that is most crucial to either have going in, or to develop asap. You are being judged and critiqued not on simply something for sale, but on everything about yourself. The execution of the work, skill, raw talent, connection to the audience, and so on, and if you are not able to detach from the work in that space and time, your soul is going to feel some pain. The person that has had the strongest and most appreciated affect on my life, not only as an artist, but as a human being overall, is a fellow artist here in Houston named Allan Rodewald. An amazing fact about Allan, is they for over 50 years, he has not once ever applied for a job, submitted a resume’ or worked outside of being an artist. He has very successfully built an amazing and inspiring life and career with art being the nucleus of it all. Over the last almost 2 years, he has had my back like no one else. I hit an all-time low a few years ago, and spent the at too long in that space with no idea or plan on how to begin the ascent upward. Allan, seeing just how devastated I was, offered not only personal and moral support, but he brought me in in some of his big mural projects, and fine art projects in the studio as well. And, over time, I continued to climb, heal and begin to have some self-worth again. And now, a year abs a half later, I’m a different person setting and achieving goals that I had no idea of even contemplating, and the rate of growth and change is only gaining momentum. It’s very difficult to not only ask for help, but to even admit that we need it. Pride, hubris, stubborn attitudes, and societal views keep us, especially men, from allowing ourselves to be vulnerable, and to admit we can’t do it all on our own. And, contrary to what a lot of us initially believe, it shows an enormous amount of strength and courage to allow ourselves to be vulnerable and those around us that are truly in our corners literally jump at the chance to help us achieve and be what they know we can are truly are inside. So, thanks Allan, and thanks to every single person out there that has ever offered a friend, relative, colleague or total stranger and hand.

Website: https://www.traslaughter.com

Instagram: @artist_traslaughter

Facebook: https://Facebook.com/tra.slaughter.2025

Image Credits
Artist portrait
photo: Laura Burlton

Tra’ and Harper
photo: Morris Malakoff

Tra’ Laptop
photo: Morris Malakoff

Artwork images
all photos: Morris Malakoff