Creative Spark:

STEVE POTTER

I moved into my brother Lyle’s Cedar Falls home for three months during the summer of 1978, working at a local restaurant to earn money for college that fall. In between work hours and dates with the man who would become my husband, I often cared for my nephew Steve, a blonde-haired inquisitive toddler whose bright smile and gentle disposition won over my heart. Sometimes, as I pushed him downtown in his stroller to the nearby library, I pretended he was mine. We’ve shared a special bond ever since. Two years after that summer, I gave birth to my own towheaded son, Dan, who became good friends with his older cousin. We still lived in Cedar Falls when my second son, Michael, was born. By the time we moved away in 1992, Michael had his adored older cousin wrapped around his little finger.

“I do wish I could have that,” little Michael would lament wistfully about whatever toy Steve had entertained him with during our visit, and kindhearted Steve would promptly give it to him.

There seemed to be one constant in my nephew’s life outside of his generous nature: an interest in art. The toddler who loved to get ahold of crayons and paper was rarely seen without a pencil or other drawing utensil in hand. Steve is a perfect example of someone who has known what they want to be since early childhood, and his success is a tribute to his tenacity and drive.

“I have always felt the urge to draw and be creative. I never understood why more people didn’t draw, because it came so easily to me,” Steve says. “I was lucky to grow up in the 1980s with all that great nostalgia to feed off. When I was young, everyone said I was destined to grow up and work for Disney, but all I wanted was to draw demented art for MAD Magazine and Garbage Pail Kids.”

In an article from his high school newspaper, Steve’s art teacher was quoted as saying Steve was his own best teacher.

“I was always driven to do better and learn techniques to improve,” Steve says. “My parents supported me with art supplies, and my mom even sent me to Des Moines a couple summers to stay with my Aunt Sara and take art classes at the Des Moines Center for the Arts.”

Steve didn’t have the heart to tell her that he hadn’t really learned anything from the classes and was bewildered by the tours of the fine art galleries.

“I remember staring at a big white canvas with a thin red line drawn across it, with a price tag of $400,” he says. “The class had continued on through the gallery, but I couldn’t move from that spot. I just stood there staring at that piece of ‘artwork,’ trying to figure out the value in it.”

In August 1999, 21-year-old Steve was diagnosed with a brain tumor and given a grim prognosis. Four rounds of chemotherapy and forty-four cranial and spinal radiation sessions later, he was left with peripheral double vision and nerve damage in his hands and feet. Though gripping a pencil hurt his fingers, he continued practicing the art that became a healing experience for him. His survival was the catalyst to begin attending art classes at a community college.

“I took every art class that was available, intermixed with my general studies: drawing, painting, 3D design, photography, film, and art history. They were so much fun,” Steve says. “I was super excited to move on to a four-year university for what I considered the ‘real’ art classes.”

Like so many creatives, he soon became disillusioned with the educational system. Eventually he came to the realization that it wasn’t a degree he needed but a portfolio of artwork.

“I didn’t fit in well with any of the teachers or students. I was instructed to ‘stop working’ right in the middle of paintings with large unfinished sections. I was told what to put together for art competitions.” Steve shakes his head ruefully. “I was laughed at for getting too close to other people’s artwork during critique time and instructed to totally change my style or I’d get a bad grade. I trudged through until the waste of time and money led me to drop out one credit shy of my fine arts degree.”

He left school, but he didn’t stop learning or creating. The nerve damage he’d experienced during cancer treatment eventually repaired itself, and he soon became known for his smooth linework. Steve continued aiming for the goal he’d had since the 1980s: to work on the popular trading cards from his childhood that had made a resurgence. His artwork appeared in many places: his beloved MAD Magazine, comics, custom tattoos, music CDs, books, clothing, and local businesses.

“I’m always doing random art. If someone needs artwork, I’ll do it,” Steve says. “Just the other day I was driving in the Industrial Park section of Cedar Falls where I live. I drove by three businesses I’d drawn the logos for.”

Because of his love for 1980s trading cards and Garbage Pail Kids, Steve drew a lot of fan art, posting regularly on social media, eventually drawing the attention of the art director for the Topps Company.

“Their art director emailed me and asked if I would like to work on the actual cards,” Steve marvels. “Of course, I said yes. I was so excited! It felt like a dream come true to work alongside the artists I’d admired as a kid. I became a fan favorite right out of the gate, and because of my high-quality work, Topps hired me on for additional brands, including Wacky Packages, The Walking Dead, and Star Wars. When Disney bought Lucasfilm in 2012, I could finally call my mom and tell her I worked for Disney! I’ve worked on around twenty trading card sets for Topps in the last six years.”

In August 2012, Steve was diagnosed with a second, unrelated cancer in his salivary gland. Treated successfully by surgical removal, his health-related challenges didn’t stop there. In April 2017, just a few months shy of forty, Steve had a heart attack.

“It threw me for a total loop,” Steve says. “I got about six months behind on everything. I had to skip out on multiple trading card sets including Mars Attacks. It hurt.”

The artist who’d finally managed to make a living off his art was forced to move to a smaller house and return to office work to supplement his income from the limited work he continues to do for the Topps Company.

“I’m just getting to a comeback stage where I’m drawing like crazy and having a lot of fun,” Steve says. “My plan is to get back to drawing more art for myself. Just things I create for no other purpose than to spread my wings.”

With that, all I can see is that bright-eyed little toddler I’d once yearned to claim as my own. And for a moment in time, he is.