

Stick With It
Danny Minnick has lived a few creative lives — professional skater, filmmaker, actor, painter — all driven by instinct, repetition, and necessity. Working eight-hour days in his Los Angeles studio, Minnick treats art like motion: show up, stay with it, let the work reveal itself.


“Dogs are unconditional love. I wish humans were more like that.”

You grew up in Seattle — what do you think that place hard-wired into you, creatively or otherwise?
To never give up, no matter what the weather brings.
Skateboarding was your first real language. What did skating teach you that still shows up in the studio?
It taught me to always be a student and keep learning.


Skate films were such a big part of your early world — do you still think in terms of rhythm and movement when you’re painting?
I don’t think. If I put it into perspective, like a skate film, it’s like you keep doing what you’re doing until you learn the trick or land it. I guess, but to refer to painting, it would be like I know the paint will dry. It’s all about, you know, creating the work.


“Repetition is everything.”

That ankle injury changed everything. Looking back now, does it feel like an ending, or the moment things really opened up?
Yeah, you can’t have it all — if only I could ollie like I used to… I don’t know if the moments opened up — they kind of closed because I can’t be on my board anymore, so I had to take it elsewhere, to canvas or a stage.


You’ve worked in studios all over — Hollywood, downtown LA, New York, London. Does the work shift with the city, or do you stay pretty constant?
Of course the energy is different in every city. My New York work is a lot different from my London work, and my LA work is a lot different from both. It’s just, yeah, the energy of the city — after going to a museum that day and coming back into the studio to create.
You’re in the studio every day, eight hours, like a job. How important is that routine for keeping you grounded?
Repetition is everything.


You always have music playing while you work. What are you listening to lately, Lee Hazlewood, and how much does it steer the mood of a painting?
Of course, you know, I think Bob Marley said it best: “One good thing about music, when it hits you, you feel no pain.” — Bob Marley


You’re raising kids at very different stages of life. How has becoming a parent again changed the way you think about time, patience, and legacy?
Of course, a surrender bender is the best.


“They’re all the same to me. It’s just something I have to do. That’s the wild part.”

Dogs come up a lot in your life and work — you’ve got two pugs, and you painted Valentino’s dogs just after he passed. What do animals give you emotionally that people sometimes can’t?
Dogs are unconditional love. I wish humans were more like it.


Between skating, painting, acting, and directing, you’ve lived a few creative lives. Right now, which one feels closest to who you are?
All of them are pretty much the same. It’s something that I have to do. It’s wild.


Thanks to Christina Schoen at Purple PR

Stick With It

Danny Minnick has lived a few creative lives — professional skater, filmmaker, actor, painter — all driven by instinct, repetition, and necessity. Working eight-hour days in his Los Angeles studio, Minnick treats art like motion: show up, stay with it, let the work reveal itself.


“Dogs are unconditional love. I wish humans were more like that.”

You grew up in Seattle — what do you think that place hard-wired into you, creatively or otherwise?
To never give up, no matter what the weather brings.
Skateboarding was your first real language. What did skating teach you that still shows up in the studio?
It taught me to always be a student and keep learning.


Skate films were such a big part of your early world — do you still think in terms of rhythm and movement when you’re painting?
I don’t think. If I put it into perspective, like a skate film, it’s like you keep doing what you’re doing until you learn the trick or land it. I guess, but to refer to painting, it would be like I know the paint will dry. It’s all about, you know, creating the work.


“Repetition
is everything.”

That ankle injury changed everything. Looking back now, does it feel like an ending, or the moment things really opened up?
Yeah, you can’t have it all — if only I could ollie like I used to… I don’t know if the moments opened up — they kind of closed because I can’t be on my board anymore, so I had to take it elsewhere, to canvas or a stage.


You’ve worked in studios all over — Hollywood, downtown LA, New York, London. Does the work shift with the city, or do you stay pretty constant?
Of course the energy is different in every city. My New York work is a lot different from my London work, and my LA work is a lot different from both. It’s just, yeah, the energy of the city — after going to a museum that day and coming back into the studio to create.
You’re in the studio every day, eight hours, like a job. How important is that routine for keeping you grounded?
Repetition is everything.


You always have music playing while you work. What are you listening to lately, Lee Hazlewood, and how much does it steer the mood of a painting?
Of course, you know, I think Bob Marley said it best: “One good thing about music, when it hits you, you feel no pain.” — Bob Marley


You’re raising kids at very different stages of life. How has becoming a parent again changed the way you think about time, patience, and legacy?
Of course, a surrender bender is the best.


“They’re all the same to me. It’s just something I have to do. That’s the wild part.”

Dogs come up a lot in your life and work — you’ve got two pugs, and you painted Valentino’s dogs just after he passed. What do animals give you emotionally that people sometimes can’t?
Dogs are unconditional love. I wish humans were more like it.


Between skating, painting, acting, and directing, you’ve lived a few creative lives. Right now, which one feels closest to who you are?
All of them are pretty much the same. It’s something that I have to do. It’s wild.


Thanks to Christina Schoen at Purple PR