A Guest Blog from WSS Fine Art by Wendell Supreme Shannon

For over a decade, I dedicated myself to the world of fine art and large-scale public murals. My work has always centered on transformation—of spaces, of stories, and of self. But as time passed and conversations with collectors, clients, and students grew, I began to realize something deeper: people didn’t just want to see my art—they wanted to carry it with them. That simple insight planted the seed for what would become my foray into wearable art and product-based merchandising.

The Spark: Turning Artwork Into Tangible Experiences

The idea came naturally, but not immediately. I had completed murals that transformed neighborhoods and created paintings that filled gallery walls—but during exhibitions and conversations, people would often ask, “Do you have anything smaller I can take with me?” At first, I thought that meant prints. But the more I listened, the clearer it became: people were looking for ways to integrate art into their daily lives—not just display it.

That’s when I began exploring what it could look like to turn my original geometric abstract artwork into products: bags, apparel, accessories—functional pieces that carried the essence of my creative identity into the world.

The Beginning: Trial, Error, and Dropshipping

I started small, curious and cautious. My first step was experimenting with dropshipping platforms. The upside? I didn’t need inventory. I could upload a design, order a sample, and launch a product with minimal upfront cost. It was a great way to test the market.

But it also came with its own set of challenges. Dropshipping limited my control over quality, fulfillment timelines, and brand presentation. Some samples looked nothing like my artwork—colors were off, materials felt flimsy, and packaging was nonexistent. What I saved in convenience, I paid for in brand dilution. That was the first big lesson: not all visibility is good visibility if the product doesn’t reflect the integrity of your art.

Learning the Language of Product Design

The next evolution came when I decided to take manufacturing into my own hands. That meant finding suppliers who could bring my visions to life—from custom-embossed vegan leather to multi-functional straps and detailed hardware. It wasn’t just about printing on a T-shirt anymore—it was about designing a product from scratch.

This stage required a whole new set of skills. I had to learn how to:

• Professionally photograph and digitize my art at high resolutions
• Create color-corrected files suitable for printing on multiple surfaces
• Develop spec sheets and tech packs outlining dimensions, stitching, and placements
• Navigate minimum order quantities, production timelines, and shipping logistics

Each of these came with hard-earned lessons. Some early samples were unusable due to vague instructions on my part. I learned to overcommunicate. I also discovered that pushing a manufacturer to go beyond their standard offering (like embossing textured artwork onto leather) could create standout results—but only with patience and persistence.

The Easy Parts (Yes, There Were Some)

What came easiest was the vision. I always had a strong sense of how I wanted my brand to feel—bold, intentional, and rooted in both story and quality. Once I began receiving samples that met my standards, content creation became second nature. I used them to build anticipation, create preorder campaigns, and connect more deeply with my audience through storytelling.

Another surprisingly rewarding aspect was packaging. Designing branded dust bags, custom boxes, and inserts allowed me to treat each order like a collector’s experience. For many customers, opening the product felt like unboxing a limited-edition artwork—and that’s exactly what I wanted.

The Hard Parts: Cost, Communication & Creative Fatigue

What’s hard? Pretty much everything else.

Cost is always a reality. High-quality materials and ethical manufacturing aren’t cheap. Add in packaging, shipping, and my own time as the designer, and it becomes clear that pricing is both an art and a science. I had to learn how to calculate true cost of goods sold (COGS) and price in a way that honored my work while remaining accessible and profitable.

Communication across time zones and languages was another hurdle. Some manufacturers overpromised and underdelivered. Others disappeared mid-project. I learned to vet partners, request references, and document everything.

And then there’s the creative fatigue. Designing products pulls from a different part of the brain than painting or murals. It’s iterative, technical, and requires patience. There were weeks where I was neck-deep in shipping timelines and spec sheets, far away from my studio. But I never lost sight of the bigger picture.

Has It Been Worth It?

Absolutely.

Merchandising gave me a new way to tell my story and connect with people who may never step into a gallery. It created multiple revenue streams, helped fund larger projects, and allowed me to reinvest into my practice and community. Most importantly, it showed me that my art doesn’t have to live in one format. It can travel, adapt, and evolve.

I’ve even had the joy of seeing my work in retail spaces—like Different Regard and Live! Maryland Casino—where it stands alongside other innovative brands. That’s something I never imagined when I was first painting on canvas in a small apartment.

Who Should Explore Merchandising?

I’d recommend merchandising to any artist who:

• Has a strong, recognizable visual style
• Is willing to learn about product development, supply chains, and pricing
• Wants to expand their reach and connect with new audiences
• Understands that quality and consistency matter as much as creativity

But it’s not for everyone. If you’re looking for quick cash or passive income, merchandising probably isn’t the answer—at least not in the beginning. It requires time, investment, and a genuine love for design. You have to treat it like building a brand from the ground up—not just slapping art on a tote bag.

Final Thoughts

The journey from canvas to carryall wasn’t easy—but it was transformative. It pushed me to grow not just as an artist, but as a designer, entrepreneur, and storyteller. Through every lesson—good, bad, right, and wrong—I’ve built something I’m proud of: art that lives in the world, not just on the wall.

If you’re an artist with a vision bigger than the frame, merchandising might be your next step.