Meet the Artist: The Story Behind Abstract By Joe
People ask me all the time how I got into abstract art. They expect a tidy story. Art school, maybe. A childhood full of galleries and museum trips. A dramatic moment of creative awakening.
The truth is messier than that. And honestly, I think the mess is what makes it real.
My name is Joseph Micacchione. I am an abstract artist based in Atlanta, and I create under the name Abstract By Joe. I work in acrylic, mixed media, and resin on canvas, and my work is built around one simple idea: feeling over form.
This is how I got here.
It Did Not Start in a Studio
I did not grow up thinking I would be an artist. I grew up in an environment where making things with your hands was practical, not artistic. You fixed things. You built things. You figured it out. That mindset is still the engine behind everything I create.
But somewhere along the way, I started noticing color. Not in an art-class kind of way. I mean really noticing it. The way late afternoon light hits a brick wall and turns it gold. The way storm clouds look bruised, purple and green at the edges. The way certain colors make your chest tighten or your breathing slow down.
I could not un-see it once I started seeing it. And eventually, I needed to do something with it.
Finding Abstract Art (Or Letting It Find Me)
When I first picked up a brush, I tried to paint things. Objects. Scenes. And it was fine. But it always felt like I was translating, running my feelings through some filter that flattened them out. The finished piece never matched the energy I started with.
Abstract changed that. The first time I let go of trying to make a painting look like something and just focused on how it felt, everything clicked. I could pour warmth directly onto the canvas. I could build tension with texture. I could let colors crash into each other the way emotions do, messy and layered and alive.
That is when I understood what I was actually doing. I was not making pictures. I was making feelings visible. Color beyond boundaries. Not just the boundaries of the canvas, but the boundaries between what we see and what we feel.
Building the Work: Acrylic, Mixed Media, and Resin
Let me tell you a little about how I actually make these pieces, because the process matters to me as much as the result.
I start with acrylic on canvas. Big canvases, usually. I like working at a scale where the painting feels physical, where I have to move my whole body to reach the edges. There is an energy in that movement that ends up in the work.
From there, I layer. Mixed media elements come in to add depth and texture. I want you to see something new every time you look at the piece. A ridge you did not notice before. A color buried under another color that only shows itself in certain light. Life is layered like that, and I think art should be too.
Then comes the resin. Pouring resin is one of my favorite parts of the process because it is the moment where I have to give up some control. Resin moves. It settles. It catches light in ways I cannot fully predict. And that unpredictability is what gives each piece its own life. The vibrant layers underneath get sealed in, protected, but also transformed by that glossy, luminous surface.
Every piece is one of a kind. Not as a marketing line, but as a fact. The same combination of gestures and pours and decisions will never happen again. When you bring one of these works into your space, you are getting something that exists exactly once.
Why Atlanta
People sometimes ask why Atlanta. Why not New York or Los Angeles or somewhere with a bigger, more established art scene?
Because Atlanta is real. The energy here is not polished and curated. It is raw and growing and full of people who are building something from scratch. That resonates with me. I am not interested in fitting into an existing art world. I am interested in making work that connects with actual people in their actual lives.
Atlanta is a city that values authenticity. It rewards people who show up as themselves. That is exactly how I try to approach my art. No pretense. No gatekeeping. Just honest work made with intention.
What Drives Me
I will be straightforward with you. I do not create art to impress other artists. I do not make work that requires a paragraph of explanation on a gallery wall before you can feel anything.
I make art for the person who walks into their living room after a long day and needs something on that wall that makes them exhale. I make art for the designer who is looking for a centerpiece that gives a room its soul. I make art for the person who has never bought an original painting before but feels pulled toward one for the first time.
That pull is what I care about. That moment when color hits you somewhere below the thinking mind. You do not need a degree in art history to feel it. You just need to be paying attention.
Feeling over form. Every time.
The Work Goes On
Abstract By Joe is not just a brand name. It is a daily practice. I am in the studio constantly, pushing into new color combinations, experimenting with new textures, figuring out how to get closer to the truth of what I am feeling on any given day.
Some days the work flows and I finish a piece that makes me stand back and just breathe. Other days I scrape the whole thing off and start over. Both kinds of days are necessary. The willingness to start over is what keeps the work honest.
I am always evolving, and I want the people who follow my work to be part of that evolution. Whether you have been collecting for years or you are just discovering my work today, you are welcome here.
Let Us Connect
If something in this story resonated with you, I would love to hear from you. Browse the current collection to see what is available now. If you have a vision for a specific space and want something made just for it, let us talk about a custom commission. I work directly with collectors, homeowners, and design professionals to bring the right piece to life.
And if you just want to say hello or ask a question, I am always up for that too. This whole thing works better when it is a conversation, not a broadcast.
Thanks for being here. I mean that.