Keeping it real—be wary of mixing business and friendship

Josh Welton

Here’s a bit about me that not many people know. I had a publicist for like, I don’t know, three weeks or so back in 2015. He found me and my work through a mutual friend. I’ve had a lot of people message me about representing me as an artist, or as a public figure, or just promotion in general, but none of them ever felt real. As social media personalities gain prominence and sponsorships, it’s important to understand all of the angles from which the world can come at you and how you should respond. Hopefully, my experience can help some of you, either now or down the road.

This isn’t going to be a hit piece, so let’s just call the PR guy “Dan.” He called me up and talked about my work and his vision; his feeling was that if my art was placed in front of a different type of clientele, the value of it would skyrocket. Rather than just placing the sculptures in hot rod magazines and blogs, he had the connections to get me into magazines like Esquire, Maxim, and the Robb Report, or “tastemaking” blogs like Cool Hunting. He told me who his firm already worked with and gave me the cost. He was excited to work with a Detroit artist. I talked to a couple of friends who own extremely successful businesses that are routinely featured in these higher-profile publications; they vouched for Dan and told me I should probably go for it.

The money wasn’t insignificant, but it was doable, and if the effect on my work was even close to what he anticipated, it would be more than worth it. So, we went ahead with it. Dan started working on getting me interviews with blogs and features in the magazines, and things slowly started to fall in place. Part of why it was moving slowly was on me, as I was about to undergo my last of four arm surgeries. We figured that by the time I recovered, the word would be out and my new work would be in demand.

During my recovery, I rented a Chevy Sonic and drove it on a “Lap of America,” about 8,500 miles in 18 days. I stopped off and visited friends and family while trekking around the country with my arm wrapped in a blue cast. Los Angeles was one such stop, and I hung out there for a couple of days. Dan and his firm were based out of the City of Angels, and he asked if we could get lunch together and have a casual face-to-face, which we did. We seemed to hit it off; the conversation was relaxed as we got to know each other.

One of the things he said to me was that he was stoked to represent someone who wasn’t the “typical LA guy” who put on an act or front. I’ve never pretended to be anybody else, and I tend to speak my mind. Dan thought that was refreshing.

I had previously received word from Dan that one of the big blogs wanted to interview me and feature my work. Sweet! The blog was adamant that I supply them with “exclusive” lightbox (hi-res with white background) photographs of my art, however. If I wasn’t on the road, and if I wasn’t in the cast, that would have been a relatively easy request to fill. As it was, I woke up several hours early the next day to search through and edit pics of my recent work, photos that had never been seen before but still represented my current style. It was a quick deadline I had to hit for the blog, and I went way out of my way to get it done.

The next day I drove up the Pacific Coast Highway to San Francisco; a visit there with my sister was the next destination. I was walking in one of the parks with a view of the Golden Gate Bridge when a text came through from Dan that the blog post was live. I hit the link and was immediately kinda pissed. After all the trouble I went to and extra work I did to get them the “exclusive” content they “required,” not one of the pictures I sent them was used. Not only that, most of the work featured was from five to 10 years before, stuff that didn’t resemble my current work . . . you know, the style I was trying to promote.

My problem is I have a difficult time separating work life from personal life. Perhaps that’s because I’m so consumed with work. Most of my time awake is spent writing or welding or sculpting, so it would make sense that most of my friends live in that world. Whatever the case may be, I felt comfortable being myself with Dan, and I responded to his text with a, uh, “strongly” worded kind of “WTF?” Why the heck did I spend all that time (and money, considering I was paying for marketing) to have the blog basically ignore their own requests while displaying old, unrepresentative art? Dan then looked at the post; he had a similar response via text to me and said he’d get to the bottom of it. He apologized, and I made it very clear that I wasn’t upset with him, I was upset with the blog.

I sort of forgot about it while enjoying the rest of my stay in SF, which is one of my favorite cities in the country. Its mild weather, tons of history, interesting architecture, geography, and so much creativity make it a stellar spot on the map. From there I headed northeast, cutting up through Oregon to peek at Crater Lake, then through Washington, and into Montana and Lake McDonald at the Glacier National Park. From there I made way to Missoula, Mont., to say hi to one of my best friends from college.

Basically the scene I’m setting up is that from the time I left San Fran all the way to Missoula, I was in the middle of nowhere. My phone connection was sketchy at best, often roaming or on extended networks. Texts and phone calls were iffy. Not much was getting through. Dan texted me about his attempts to remedy the blog post, and I told him not to worry about it, what was done was done. I also told him I was in the mountains, so if texts or calls weren’t going through, that’s why.

Josh Welton and a Chevy Sonic.

Two days after San Francisco, I sent Dan an email about an interview request from another site, because, as my PR guy, he had told me he’d like to be made aware of all of them.

This was his reply:

“Hey Josh, thanks for this. Dude, you’re cool, but I gotta be honest that I was put off on the text exchange we had re: [the blog-redacted] earlier this week. Also when we tried remedying it, I felt like that effort was also met with flack. I didn’t like that. I’m not really in the business of dealing with drama. It’s just not my style. You’re a good talented guy and I will have nothing but good things to say about you, but I want to press pause on this. Don’t worry about that second check.”

I was stunned. To me we had a normal back and forth. Mind you, the blog post came out the day after we’d had lunch, a lunch that was more like friends hanging out than a business meeting. The text exchange was only a couple of messages. In the last one I explicitly stated that I didn’t blame him for the misunderstanding with the blog. The text the next day was him explaining how difficult it was to get the mistake by the blog fixed, and that’s when I told him I was in the middle of nowhere with very little reception, and gave him the “what’s done is done, don’t worry about it” response. It didn’t even register on my end that he could take that personally.

Keep in mind that none of this was via actually talking to each other. I sent him a message telling him that there was obviously a wire crossed somewhere, that somehow one or more of my texts must have been taken out of context, and asked if we could talk through it on the phone when I reached someplace with a signal. He said sure. I was confident the miscommunication would be easily fixed with a quick phone call.

So, when I found a signal in Montana, I pulled the Sonic to the side of the road and dialed him up. It was very cordial to start. I tried to reiterate that I had no ill feelings towards him at any point, that I was frustrated in the moment, but once it had been a day or two saw no reason for him to keep at the “difficult” process of fixing the blog.

“I really don’t want this to end because of one misunderstood text.”

He agreed with me, or so it seemed, until it became evident that each word I spoke was going in one ear and out the other. He replied and basically repeated his email. Then “my mind is made up. I can’t work for you, there’s too much drama.” Literally nothing I said registered. He continued and told me again how much he loved my work, that he wouldn’t tell anyone anything negative about me, my future was bright and then stated matter of factly, “So, we’re cool.”

I paused a second. “No, we are definitely not cool” and hung up the phone.

Despite lunch, despite the phone calls, despite all “friendly” communications we had over the previous month, he was not my friend. Despite him asking for, and receiving, a custom piece of art from me, we were not buddies. Counter to his statement that he was looking forward to working with someone who was “real,” a Detroiter who spoke his mind and not a polished LA-type personality, he absolutely did not want that. I still get frustrated thinking about it.

Josh Welton and Sonic
Photo by Andy Perry.

I’m not going to change. But I do want to show the potential consequences if you skirt the line between business and friendship so you can make your own decision with both eyes open. For me, the select few relationships I have with the people who make up the businesses, marketing teams, and public relations groups I collaborate with in different capacities are built on friendships. The whole thing is, however, a business. So, proceed with care.

All images courtesy of Josh Welton, Brown Dog Welding.