15-04-2025
Honey Pierre weaves joy and resilience into Atlanta's art scene
Textile artist Honey Pierre turns fiber into bold, emotionally rich stories of Black life — even as Atlanta's fragile arts infrastructure threatened to disrupt her rise.
Why it matters: Pierre, known to family and friends as Cassandra Hickey, celebrates resilience and everyday beauty in Black communities. Her journey— from Cleveland to the military and Atlanta's art scene — highlights challenges that could have derailed her.
Case in point: She had to pivot in August 2024 when MINT Gallery unexpectedly closed.
Pierre and 18 other artists lost their studios, exhibitions and residencies, emphasizing the vulnerability of Atlanta's arts infrastructure, especially for Black artists trying to establish their footing.
The artists acted quickly, rallying support from organizations like TILA Studios, the Goat Farm Arts Center, Dashboard and Black Art in America.
The Goat Farm matched MINT's studio rates and waived deposits, Black Art in America covered moving expenses and grassroots fundraising provided temporary financial relief.
What they're saying: "We were in shock, but we knew we had to act fast," Pierre told "City Lights" producer Jacob Smulian.
Pierre emphasized MINT's importance to artists like herself.
"MINT was a lifeline for emerging artists," she said. "Without spaces like it, Atlanta risks losing its creative community."
"We had to find ways to survive. People don't talk about how hard it is — having work ready for exhibitions, only to suddenly have nowhere to show it. We had to figure it out fast."
Yes, but: While Pierre has a new studio, she sees a deeper problem.
"Atlanta has a real art community, but we don't have an institutional community," she told Axios. "There's money in this city — but it's not being spent on the arts the way it should be."
Onaje Henderson, a partner at ZuCot Gallery — which currently features one of Pierre's pieces — praised her professionalism and vision.
"She kind of got dealt a rough hand … but what impressed me was her level of professionalism," he said. "She scheduled a meeting, walked us through her work, and had a clear vision. That's rare and valuable in emerging artists."
Henderson also spoke to her impact: "We live in a heavy time, and while it's important to catch that heaviness, it's also important to catch those moments of joy. Our community has more of those moments than the world gives us credit for."
Catch up quick: Pierre was born and raised in Cleveland. After high school, she joined the Army and was stationed in Korea — a mentally difficult chapter. When she returned home, she took time to "deprogram" and reconnect with civilian life.
She began a tattoo apprenticeship to build technical skills. "I started with tattooing because it helped me learn the fundamentals — anatomy, color theory and shading," she said. "But when the pandemic hit, I had time to sit down and teach myself textile work."
In 2019, she relocated to Atlanta for a vibrant, affordable creative community — just before the pandemic gave her the space to go all-in on her artistic voice and storytelling.
"Part of my storytelling is based in family, community, leisure and just living life," she said. "We don't get to see enough images of us relaxing."
Her upcoming exhibit "I'm Just Living Some Life, Okay?" captures that spirit — with pieces documenting everything from family routines to quiet moments of reflection.
One piece, "Black Men Smile," challenges stereotypes about Black masculinity: "I asked my friend — who's known for his smile — not to smile for the piece. I wanted to show that Black men don't always have to perform happiness."
What's next: Pierre is preparing for her April exhibit while also looking ahead — and abroad. She's headed to Ghana to study traditional textile techniques and sustainability in fabric arts.
She's also enrolling at Georgia State University to study art formally.
"I know how to weave, I know how to sew, I know how to do soft sculpture — but I want to learn more," she said, revealing that the move is creative and strategic.
"Let me use my veteran benefits, let me get the refund checks," she joked. "Funding is disappearing left and right, especially in the arts."
Many of her future professors are already peers. "It's going to be funny walking into class like, 'Hey guys, I'm your student now.'"
But she's also thinking bigger:"I want to learn more about upcycling and using materials in a way that's better for the environment. Textiles hold history — and I want to preserve that."
