In our newest interview series, we introduce you to the people who inspire us most: creatives, educators, activists, community leaders and the everyday superhumans who keep us on our toes. We’ll take you inside their day-to-day lives, homes and workspaces. We’ll talk motivation and inspiration and, of course, all things style. I spent the first eight years of my life in Jamaica, outside mostly. I feel most like myself when exposed to fresh air. In school, I became the “art kid” and met my first rival. We used to have art battles like, “I can draw this better than you.” I drew what I saw, and what I didn't see—what I was imagining. When I started molding things to my liking versus trying to fit them in a pre-existing box, that was fire to me. I held on, practiced little by little, and it became something I couldn't put down. My grand uncle was the artist of the family. His depictions of Black Jesus were all over the walls in our house, but I was growing up in the Baptist church with depictions of white Jesus. That was my first conflict with subject matter, which is what fuels my practice now: juxtaposition in conflict. After studying graphic design at West Texas, I started grad school for fashion merchandising at the Academy of Art online. I attempted to move to San Francisco, but didn’t have enough funds. I made it this internal mission to make it back here, and that's what happened. I moved to The Sunset, and one day, my roommate asked me to help out at his new job packaging CDs. I worked one day, yo, one day—and that day happened to be when some new folks moved in upstairs and invited us to a party. I didn't know at the time, but that space on Ninth Ave. was where Zappos and Craigslist started. I looked at my roommate and said, “I'm gonna go up there.” It was like a tech con—all these smart folks brought stuff they did or software they'd developed—and here I come with a sketchbook. The main guy pulled me aside and gave me my first project on the spot: a shirt for a Japanese convention. Then, he offered me work space in their attic and drinks from their kitchen. That became my office, free of charge. Ha! I feel like my life is a series of foreshadowing, things cycling into each other. One day from the attic office on Ninth, I noticed this coffee shop, Snowbird, across the street. I walked in, met the owner, and as soon as we opened our mouths, we became friends. I told him about my clothing brand Fresh Kaufee. He said, “We're about to open, but the city hasn't cleared us to use the front space yet. Want to do a pop-up and sell your shirts for a week?” I said, “Let’s do it.” I package my shirts in coffee bags, so people left with coffee-smelling shirts and actual coffee. One of the people who came in had a food truck called Burma Bear. He looked at my sketchbooks and hired me to do tray linings, my first big-paying project. When my living situation in San Francisco dissolved, I started looking for a place in Oakland. Meanwhile, I lived in Sonoma for two weeks with a close friend, and we made a KQBD mini-documentary. I was the subject, but also the person carrying the equipment. That got me more publicity and I eventually landed a studio to pursue my photography. It’s my therapeutic hobby, not necessarily for monetary gain. So that’s where I am now. I've been living off my art for almost 10 years. Activism has been my thing since that first initial conflict. The juxtaposition of justice and injustice and where those crossroads meet has always been something I seek out and value in my work. I'm not from here, so Juneteenth isn’t in my lineage, but it's something that in the diaspora, I'm a part of. I could pull from my own experiences and didn't feel like a complete outsider. And what I now feel is my forever style—my characters, the birds—fit really well with their message. It was perfect timing. It's evolving. I’ve stepped into this old man phase—colors and textures, button-up shirts, big collars, flared out pants, comfortable shoes. Colorful socks and rare-find jackets are my most coveted things. I love my style because it's putting the comfort of yourself over trying to please others. There’s a high-stylized, fashionable energy in Jamaica. Google a film called Rockers. You can see the culture’s built in. I pull from that era — ’60s, ’70s, ’80s, ’90s. So I’m revisiting early Jamaica with my style now: the grandpa. That’s another story where I happened to be in the right place at the right time and met the right people. My real name is Lenworth McIntosh, Jr. and everyone called me “Junior.” In undergrad, I met this Southern dude named Rock who called me Joonbug. I really liked how it sounded—and what it did for people’s memories. When they knew that I drew, it was that interlocking of “Joonbug — it’s fun to say and I know he does art, so he becomes the Joonbug who does art in my mind.” I realized—hey, this is marketing me without me doing any work. I started introducing myself as Joonbug, and then it grew legs without me. Making sub nicknames became a game for people. “Can I call you Joon? Buggy? Bugs?” No matter your spin on it, it leads back to me, so by all means! Photo Credit: Kameron Richie Shop Joonbug’s style below and stay tuned here, to our Off The Cuff blog, for more style inspiration, DIY tutorials, sneak peeks of our latest collaborations and all the insider goodness you can handle.
Calling Joonbug an artist almost feels like an undersell. So we’ll use the umbrella term “creative entrepreneur”—under which illustrator, graphic designer, fashion merchandiser, photographer and now, our latest Monthly Muse, fit nicely. Maybe you know Joon from his Bugs87 work or coffee-infused clothing brand, Fresh Kaufee. And if you don’t, we’re thrilled to introduce you to this uber talented Oakland-based Jamaican with a habit of being in the right place at the right time. Here, he discusses growing up, projects old and new and his self-described “grandpa” style. Read on to learn more about Joonbug in his own words.
LET’S START WITH YOUR BACKGROUND AND HOW YOU GOT INTO ART.
I'm a naturally fluid person. I can insert myself into different pockets and it's not taking me out of my element, it’s expanding my fluidity.
THERE’S A JOKE TO BE MADE HERE ABOUT JOONBUG AND THE TRAVEL BUG, BUT WE’LL REFRAIN. HOW’D YOU END UP IN SAN FRANCISCO, AND EVENTUALLY OAKLAND?
WOW. IF ONLY WE COULD ALL RUB YOUR HANDS FOR GOOD LUCK. WHEN DID FILM AND PHOTOGRAPHY COME INTO THE PICTURE?
WE THINK THAT MEANS YOU’VE MADE IT. WHAT WAS IT LIKE GETTING INVOLVED WITH HELLACREATIVE™ AND THEIR JUNETEETH ACTIVISM CAMPAIGN AS SOMEONE BORN AND RAISED OUTSIDE OF THE STATES?
SO WE’VE TALKED ABOUT YOUR ART STYLE. CAN YOU DESCRIBE YOUR PERSONAL STYLE?
I’ve stepped into this old man phase. Colorful socks and rare-find jackets are my most coveted things.
WHERE DOES THE NAME “JOONBUG” COME FROM? ARE YOU JOONBUG, OR IS IT AN ALTER EGO?
I'm a person of many alter egos: bugs87, shutterbugs, Fresh Kaufee, Lenworth. When I tried putting all my alter egos all in the same room, it was chaotic. Joonbug became the alias that could do any of those things. It’s a chameleon that can take shape like water. All the experiences and places I’ve ended up in — Joonbug just fits.
