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Jay Sage

Denver, CO

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Jay M. Sage was born in Socorro New Mexico on the twenty-fourth day of May in the year 1988. As a child, he would stare at the back of cereal boxes and recreate what he saw. His mother, Melissa, recalls him being able to capture the pirate ships and other various backgrounds in complete and perfect detail by the age of five, but laughs as she tells this story because he could never draw the people and would always have her draw them for him. The humor in this is that she can barely draw a stick figure; however, Jay says that at the time, he was envious of her mad skills. Jay’s father left him when he was very small and his mother struggled with alcoholism and a drug addiction, causing his home life to be stressful and chaotic. This is what he believes drove him to strive harder with his art. He worked hard to make something of himself and DO something with his art to better take care of his parents, but mostly, to never BE them.

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Most people will tell you that they create art as a means to "escape" reality, I on the other hand have no desire to escape. I want to make people embrace reality, and love it as I do. I make no attempts to fool myself or anyone else; the world is dark and so are the people in it, but without the dark there can be no light. More often than not, my intentions are lost on the viewers and are misinterpreted as solely dark or disturbing. I have come to make peace with this however, because in a way, it's what I want. Like life, art is interpretive. I like to see the good in things, no matter how dark and hopeless they might seem. Make no mistake though, this doesn't make me an optimist, I am a realist. The glass is not half empty, nor is it half full. The glass is too big. The glass is always too big, and that's good because it gives us something to work towards. It leaves room to be filled.

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It is in every major city and gives me the opportunity to share my work with as may people as I possibly can.


When I was a boy my grandma would tie a towel around my neck and I would run around the house pretending I was a superhero. I would climb on top of the highest things I could find and jump off trying to fly. One day, because she was afraid I was going to end up hurting myself, she told me superheroes were not real and I couldn't fly. But what if we can fly? All of us. How will we ever know what we are truly capable of if we are too afraid to jump?