Mycha Bueché (aka @artbymycha) is a Texas-born, Brooklyn-based artist whose work is anchored in a distinct exploration of color. Drawing inspiration from the folk art of her Latino heritage, she creates visual altars that enshrine memory and myth as inseparable parts of our histories. Mycha is also well known for her colorful pet portraits!
In celebration of Pride Month, we visited Mycha’s home and studio—which she shares with her adorable dog, Bea—to learn more about her work, queer journey, and life as a dog mom.
Tell us about your artist journey! Have you always felt called to paint?
My path as an artist has been a bit unconventional. I’ve always had creative interests, but I didn’t jump straight into being a full-time artist at the start of my career. That said, I’ve always worked in creative fields.
If you ask my family, they’d say this was inevitable. As a kid, you could keep me entertained for hours with just a piece of paper and some crayons. I also come from a very entrepreneurial and creative family, so sometimes I joke that I was made for this. For example, in fourth grade, I was drawing classmates’ dogs during recess and charging a quarter for the drawings, which is very full circle because pet portraits are now one of the main ways I make a living as an artist.
Though I’ve been making things my entire life, I officially launched my art practice in 2020, during the pandemic. I was working as an art director for a big-box retail brand, and when things slowed down due to COVID, I had more time to explore new mediums and think deeply about what I wanted to create, say, and share with the world. I used my background in marketing to get my work out on TikTok, Instagram, and other platforms—just experimenting to see if it resonated. I’m incredibly grateful that it did.
I’ve now been working as a full-time artist for about a year. I’ve had the chance to show my work throughout New York and even back home in San Antonio. This year, I also started incorporating woodworking into my practice—something I’ve long wanted to do—and I’m proud of how much my work has grown in such a short time!
Where do you typically find your inspiration?
My biggest inspiration comes from the folk art of my Nicaraguan heritage, along with the vibrant Mexican-American culture of my hometown, San Antonio.
I’m also deeply interested in myths and folk traditions from other cultures. Through that research, I’ve noticed a recurring theme: folk art around the world uses bold, bright colors not just to celebrate joy, but also to express pain, grief, and complexity. That idea has stayed with me. I’m drawn to the use of color as a tool to reflect both the beauty and hardships of life—and I try to embody that duality in my own work.
What is your typical thought process when creating a new piece?
When developing a new piece, the idea often begins with a small spark, usually while I’m on a long walk with my dog or while journaling. It’s not always a cinematic moment of inspiration; more often, it’s a buildup of ideas that slowly take shape.
I always jot down thoughts as they come, usually in chaotic notes on my phone, because I can’t always drop everything and head to the studio. These notes help me reconnect with the original emotion or concept when I do have time to dive in. Then once I’m in the studio, I spend a lot of time researching, pulling together moodboards, and experimenting to see whether the idea has legs. Not every idea blooms, and that’s okay.
When starting a new series, I’m pretty methodical—something I credit to my background in art direction. I give myself a set of creative parameters: a color palette, recurring motifs or patterns to use, and a central emotion to convey. Ironically, these limitations actually enhance creativity—they help unify the work and give me freedom to explore deeply within a defined space.
There’s a misconception that being an artist means waiting for a rush of inspiration and working until 3 a.m. in a haze. But in my experience—and in the practices of the most successful artists I’ve met—structure is essential. That might mean daily routines, consistent studio time, or simply having clarity about what you’re trying to say.
And to be honest, I’m not always inspired. The “muse” is fickle. If you only create when you feel inspired, it’s hard to sustain a full-time art practice. That’s why consistency, structure, and a deep commitment to this path are at the heart of my process. I don’t rely on inspiration to start—I rely on my intention to keep going.
When someone looks at your work, what do you hope they feel?
I hope they feel embraced. I often paint things that could be seen as flaws or contradictions, but I frame them in vibrant, beautiful compositions. My goal is for people to see my work and feel like it gives them permission to embrace their own complexities—and maybe bring a little more color into their lives, whatever that might look like for them.
What is your dog’s name? How did you come up with it? Any nicknames?
One of the joys of being an artist is getting to work every day alongside my dog, who I affectionately call my studio assistant—though she may think she’s the supervisor.
Her name is Bea. She actually came with the name Bea when we adopted her, and it just seemed to fit. But, like any true pet parent, we’ve given her a million nicknames since then: Beezer, Bee Bee, Bees Knees, and occasionally Ebeneezer Scrooge when we’re feeling festive. We’ve also spun off countless variations of those names that make absolutely no sense—but if your dog doesn’t have at least 25 random nicknames, are you even doing it right?
When and how did Bea come into your life?
Bea was a pandemic adoptee. My partner and I had just moved in together, and since we’re both huge animal lovers, adopting a dog felt like the natural next step. At the time, we were living in the Midwest, and we found her through a rescue that had picked her up in Oklahoma. I like to say she’s a Southern girl like me—that’s where she gets her spunk (and maybe her sass).
Does Bea have any silly quirks or secret talents?
Bea is extremely food motivated and very smart—both a blessing and a curse. Her intelligence made training pretty easy, and she’s got an impressive arsenal of tricks. But she definitely also uses her powers for mischief. She’s figured out how to unzip bags with her nose if she suspects there’s a snack inside, and she’s also somehow conspired—despite the language barrier—with her feline sister, Mouse, to knock things off counters so she can swoop in and eat them. She’s pulled off some wild food heists over the years!
We think her background has something to do with it—the rescue told us she grew up on the streets, so even though she’s now incredibly well-fed, she still operates with a bit of food insecurity. We’ve adjusted our home setup to keep things out of reach because she will absolutely find a way.
She’s a very clever girl… for better and for worse!
What’s something you never leave the house without on your dog walks?
I never leave the house without water for both of us—especially now that it’s getting warmer out.
We also like to match outfits, which adds a bit of fun to our routine. She’ll wear a colorful harness, and I’ll coordinate my look to match her harness, bandana, or leash. It’s a fun way to add some whimsy into the day!
And of course, we always bring a ball. Bea is obsessed with playing fetch—we make it a point to stop by the park at least once a day to play. She’s an active girl, and getting her outside regularly is a must.
What’s your biggest tip for pet parents—something you wish you’d known before adopting Bea?
My biggest tip is: don’t be overwhelmed. The changes you make to bring a dog into your life may feel big at first, but I can honestly say that having Bea has made us better people. She’s made us more active, more compassionate, and more present. I wouldn’t trade the early wake-ups or changed routines for anything.
Having a dog gives you a fuller life—you notice more, feel more. Bea is so food motivated that I’ve become hyper-aware on our walks (especially so she doesn’t try to eat mystery chicken off the NYC streets), but that awareness has made me more in tune with my surroundings. I appreciate the world around me more because I’m seeing it through the lens of caring for her.
So my advice is: don’t be afraid to take the leap! It’s a lot, but what you get in return—joy, connection, and so much love—is worth it a thousand times over.
How has being part of the LGBTQIA+ community influenced your creative perspective?
Being queer is the greatest blessing of my life. I wish I could go back and tell my younger self—who was scared to come out and afraid to be herself—that this part of her identity would one day bring her so much joy, community, fulfillment, and self-expression.
Being part of the LGBTQIA+ community has unlocked an incredible well of creative potential in me. Getting to know other queer folks, understanding who they are, and learning who I am in the process has expanded every aspect of my creativity. Whether it’s through my art—where I can be vulnerable, joyful, dark, or anything in between—I know that who I am is not a mistake. Who I am is beautiful and doesn’t need to be altered.
That sense of validation also shapes the way I move through the world—how I speak, how I present myself, and how I exist socially. I’ve learned that creativity isn’t just something we make—it's how we survive. That lesson has seeped into my work, even if the work isn’t explicitly about being queer. My art is queer because it’s made from my whole, authentic self.
There’s so much overlap between being queer and being an artist—self-expression is everything. Being unabashedly yourself isn’t just your biggest creative asset, it’s your lifeline.
What does Pride look or feel like to you—big, small, loud, or quiet?
For me, Pride is loud—during Pride Month and all year round. I’m loud in how I dress, how I speak, and how I live my life. That’s what I love about Pride: it’s about showing up exactly as you are, doing as much or as little as you want.
When I’m celebrating with my partner, family, or friends, we are dancing, we are in fabulous and ridiculous outfits, and we are outside as much as possible. But my favorite part of Pride is connecting with friends, chosen family, and strangers who are just happy to be there.
Queer people are funny. I mean truly hilarious. We have this incredible sense of humor about life, and during Pride this carefreeness makes everything feel extra joyful, silly, and alive. And sometimes, feeling that joy can be hard when you’re queer—so when it’s possible, it’s really special.
As a lesbian, I’m especially proud of the lesbian community. We are deeply supportive of one another and always show up for each other—no matter what. That solidarity means everything to me.
Do you have a favorite Pride memory?
I don’t have just one favorite Pride memory—but I do have favorite moments. Like when I’m out in community during Pride and I pause, look around, and breathe it all in. I’ll take a second to think, “Wow, I’m so lucky to be queer in this lifetime”. That moment of gratitude always stays with me.
Another favorite moment is any time I get to connect with queer elders. Listening to their stories and learning about our history grounds me. Especially in challenging times, it’s important to remember how far we’ve come. Yes, we’re up against a lot—but queer liberation will prevail. And if you’ve spent time with queer people, you already know that’s true.
What’s something you want every queer person to feel this Pride?
I want every queer person to remember that joy is essential. Joy is at the heart of our resistance, imagination, and creativity. Those things are not frivolous—they are central to how we imagine and build queer liberation. Of course, your anger and your pain are also valid. They matter. But don’t forget that your joy and creative spirit are powerful. They are why we’re here. Joy is the light that guides us. And love—love is the reason for everything.