Featured Artist: Molly Dickson

Most of your work operates nationally and globally. What does it mean to create something for East Dallas, where you’re from?

It’s more intimate and permanent than the commercial work I’m used to. Seeing your work become part of a place you actually move through, rather than something you encounter on a screen, changes your relationship to it. There’s something special about having my work integrated into an East Dallas neighborhood, close to where I’m from. It feels like a sort of homecoming.

What are your must-haves for the art-making process?

Imperfection and a low-fi sensibility. I do a lot of digital work, but I make every layer by hand because I want that human, handcrafted feel. The mistakes you can’t plan for are often the best part. I’m anti-perfection. There’s always a temptation to polish everything digitally, but I’d rather leave room for the unexpected. That humanity is what I want to keep alive.

Oh, and lots of snacks and, lately, Love Island.

What keeps you curious?

The problem-solving. I’m always excited by figuring out how to make something I’ve never done before. With stop-motion, I love the technical exploration: How do I make something move in a handmade way? I can lose five hours to those experiments. There’s something incredibly satisfying about the moment all that rough, chaotic work suddenly falls into place.

You started out protective of your process. How has that changed?

Early on, I didn’t want feedback. I’ve come to deeply appreciate it because it pushes you in directions you’d never naturally go. Sometimes that’s where the magic happens.

I also love hearing what people respond to. It’s often different from what I would choose. When you’re too close to your work, you remember the frustration. Other people only see what’s in front of them. Learning to be more collaborative has been one of the best shifts for me.

What does an ideal collaboration look like?

No budget limitations. (laughs)

But seriously, I want to see my work in different outputs and contexts. And I want public art. Something tangible. I’ve never seen my work on a bus, and that feels like the real goal. A billboard can feel like it exists everywhere and nowhere. Something on every Waymo in town? That would be concrete and interesting to me.

What do you hope people take away from your work?

I want it to bring joy. It doesn’t have to be profound. Art should add something to your day. I want to give free serotonin. That’s the ultimate goal.