In this keynote-style talk, Anjelika Temple shares a rapid, autobiographical narrative that illustrates how a series of seemingly ordinary moments shaped her creative philosophy. She begins with her immigrant Indian parents, early artistic interests, and a back surgery that redirected her energy toward visual arts. Throughout high school and college she pursued a blend of art, philosophy, and community activism, reviving a feminist art magazine and hosting a radio show. After graduation she lived in artist residencies in Vermont, New Zealand, and India (the latter turning out to be a cult‑like experience), where she first encountered the idea of a "side hustle"—working on art while holding a day job. Returning to the U.S., she spent three years at a New York ad agency, using corporate benefits to take night classes in silkscreen, letterpress, and clothing construction, and eventually launching a small print‑making business. A layoff during the 2009 recession pushed her into freelance work, and a move to San Francisco led to a chance meeting with Brit, the co‑founder of Brit + Co. Anjelika joined as founding partner and chief creative officer, building a company dedicated to empowering women through creativity. The overarching lesson she emphasizes is to "say yes and just start": take small, incremental steps, pursue side projects, and trust that consistent effort will reveal a creative career, rather than waiting for a single watershed moment.
Chapters
Hello! Hi, I'm Angelica Temple, as you can see. Creative human, wife to my college sweetheart Dave, who's somewhere in the middle, but of course I can't see. Mom to baby girl Inoki, and Chief Creative Officer and founding partner at Brit Co. I'm so stoked to be here surrounded by so many inspiring women. I can feel the positive energy. Please send it my way. When I was thinking about a moment in my life that could be formed into a lesson, what struck me is that I actually have a collection of moments that I would like to share. I didn't have a watershed coming-of-age moment that caused my story to change in an instant. It's really this collection that all have one thing in common. One guiding principle, one philosophy that I was actually not aware of until putting together this talk. And to get you there, I'm going to take you on a lightning-fast version of my life story, specifically as it relates to creativity, starting with dance recitals, living on an artist commune, working for the man, and then eventually helping to build Brit Co. So first, my beginnings. I was born in the early '80s in New Jersey to Asha and Arvind, who had immigrated from Jersey. Asha, Arvind, anyone? All right, so lots of fans of my parents. They had immigrated from India in the '60s, and true to Indian immigrant form, they were overachievers who came to the States to go to Ivy League colleges. My mom had a PhD in psychology from Cornell, my dad an industrial engineer from Berkeley. We lived in Connecticut, they got divorced, they each remarried, my dad moved to a farm outside Pittsburgh where there are miniature donkeys, My brother went to college, my mom, stepdad, and I moved to Salt Lake City, and then eventually Philadelphia. I told you, lightning fast. Okay, so I always knew that I loved creativity. I didn't really know what that meant. When I was 5 years old, I wrote an autobiography on myself and declared that I was a professional artist and author, and I quote, "Would use art to save the world from pollution." In the same autobiography, I declare Guns N' Roses' "Paradise City" the best song of all time. Not much has changed. I did all the normal creative kiddo stuff. I took tap and jazz lessons, clarinet, guitar, piano, theater camp in the summer. Then when I got older, I added soccer and basketball into the mix. When we were 10, moved from Connecticut to Salt Lake City. Quite a cultural shift. Um, that is where I spent my most formative years. Um, when I was 12, I had a pretty crazy back surgery 'cause I had scoliosis. And had metal rods put on either side of my spine from my neck to my tailbone. So, dance and sports out, painting, drawing, creative writing in. Let's go all in on this. So then, when I was 15, let's move back across the country to Philadelphia, right when I figured out who I am. So, going into junior year of high school is actually the worst time to move a teenager. So, I thought about getting really angsty, spending all my time on AOL Instant Messenger. But I didn't. I decided to just do all the things. I decided, "OK, I'm in this super liberal place in comparison with Salt Lake." So I started volunteering for political campaigns, I took art classes at night, I went to yoga in the morning before school, which is insane. In school, I was on yearbook, I joined all the different political and art groups, I did a large-scale sculpture series, It was overachieving, but in an odd place to achieve. I was also known on the internet for having the largest collection of bootleg Ani DiFranco concerts, so that was another really important claim to fame. Anyway, high school is done. I am now going to Middlebury, a small liberal arts college in Vermont. We have fans of Vermont. So if you've been to Vermont in the summer or late fall, you know that it is paradise, like Adam and Eve level breathtaking, and a very cushy, lovely spot to find yourself. So I did the very practical thing and double majored in philosophy and studio art. You know, I was like, I'm gonna do all of this, but it's not gonna make sense. So in addition to that, I was the vice president of my co-ed fraternity, I ran an art club, I revived a feminist art magazine called Artemis. I had a radio show all 4 years. I met the love of my life, who I know is somewhere in the middle. And I found my passion, creativity. Now for me, this thing around creativity was not about making things myself. It was actually about helping others and empowering people to share their work with the world. I thought I would see friends doodling and be like, "I need to frame that and put it in an art show." or "I need to publish that in my Artemis magazine." People humored me, and I figured that if I empower the creative folks around me, that maybe everyone would think, "Hey, I'm creative too. The margins of my sociology notes look pretty good." So that was my thing. I busy-beed, and I hustled through, and I was very motivated by the present. But of course, I had not thought about the future at all. So it's May of my senior year, and I have no idea what's happening next. Like not a clue. Like so many people at that age, I was totally lost. I knew I was passionate about hanging out with my friends, organizing art shows. I was still into Ani DiFranco at the time. I still am. And Guns N' Roses. Anyway, I digress. But I really didn't know what it meant to be creative. Like what is that as a profession? Do I intern at a gallery, a museum? Do I work at an ad agency? Like I really had no idea what was next. Liberal arts schools don't have design and communications degrees. It was just studio art and philosophy. So, a photographer friend of mine who had graduated the year before was living in an artist colony in northern Vermont. She invited me to an exhibition there, and I drove 2 hours north to the tiny town of Johnson, a hamlet of creativity nestled in a part of Vermont legitimately called the Northeast Kingdom. I parked my Subaru, obviously, walked onto campus, and— Honestly, it is impossible to articulate what it's like to find your place when you're completely lost. Everywhere I looked, artists were flitting about: poets, writers, sculptors, painters, from all walks of life, all ages, from all around the world, all united to do one thing: make art. It was like summer camp for adults, all year round. And they were grown-ups, and it made sense, but it didn't. I couldn't believe it was real. So I met the founder, and he offered me a role as a staff artist in residence. In exchange for 20 hours of office work, I would get a studio, room and board, and exhibition space. Okay, so I can be an artist now? Isn't that an eventually thing? Like, is that real? I told him, "I have huge plans, and I'm moving to New York, and I need to think about it," even though obviously I had none of those plans. He paused me, and he said, I mean, what are these big plans? What are you waiting for? What do you need to figure out? You can be an artist now. You can just start. And that struck me. I had never heard someone say something like that. And I realized I didn't need permission to do this crazy thing that was on no path that I knew about. I could actually just do it. So I graduated and I moved to Johnson, middle of nowhere. I lived in a cottage with 3 other artists. Every month, 50 new artists would roll in. And another thing struck me. These people are using their precious time to just work on art. Some people were funded by nonprofits, some people paid to be there, but they were all taking time out of their daily life. Most people weren't what you call full-time artists. It was the first time I'd even seen something called a side hustle. I don't think that was a term then. And it was really inspiring to me that you could work and do it little by little, and it didn't— it wasn't an eventually thing. So I thought, "Artist colonies are now my thing." So my husband was about— my then-boyfriend, now-husband, was about to graduate and wanted to go to New Zealand and work on organic farms, obviously. I was not— I was down with New Zealand, not down to just follow a dude and watch him pick cherries. So I got online— I mean, cherries are cool. I got online, I applied, and got a fellowship to be an artist-in-residence at a studio in New Zealand. It was in the middle of nowhere, we lived on a farm next to an animal refuge, and it was a strange time. It was gorgeous. And then we wanted to move on, so we wanted to make a year of the wandering. So we decided to go to India, we wanted to spend time there besides just vacations and visiting family. So again, I got on the internet, I applied and got a grant to be an artist-in-residence at an artist community called the Global Arts Village outside of Delhi. The village was interesting. The people were off. It was actually, to be honest, it's a way longer than 10-minute story, and I am like already gonna be over my time. So suffice it to say, it was a front for a cult. A frog died in my room, and I escaped in the middle of the night. Okay, so 6 months later, we moved to New York I applied to jobs on Monster.com that had the word creative in them. I got a job as a creative assistant at an ad agency. I decided to work for the man. But being in the corporate world did have its perks. I got an education stipend to take classes all the time. So for the whole 3 years I was there, I took classes at night. I took silkscreen. I took letterpress, clothing construction, anything I could do to hone my craft. I ended up with my first raise, I bought a laptop to build a website and like the Adobe Creative Suite. With my next raise, I got a studio space in Greenpoint, and I was working on my printmaking business. Then 3 years in, 2009, recession, laid off. Shit! Okay, now I guess I'm an artist. So I did all the normal things. I threw events, I designed wedding invitations, I screen printed posters and t-shirts and sold them at art fairs. I worked at an art startup. I was honestly completely lost, but I was very fulfilled. I did not have very much money, but it was fine. And then my husband and I decided, "All right, we're done with New York. It's over. We need to be outside." So we quit our jobs, drove across the country to San Francisco, and the first weekend I was here, a friend of mine wanted to introduce me to this gal she knew I would love. Brit! So, I had taken a random job at another startup, and 6 months after that meeting, the same gal called me up, said, "I'd love to talk to you about a project." Obviously, I gave my 2 weeks' notice and signed on to be BRIT's founding partner and creative director, and set to work building a company whose entire mission is to empower women through creativity. So— Yeah! The lesson: say yes and just start. Find a way to jump into the things you love, even if it's not exactly the way you pictured. Take a risk with a game plan in mind. If you want to be a professional artist, take art classes at night, submit pieces to a group exhibition, enter an art contest. Don't wait, don't wait until eventually, don't wait for something magical to happen and finally you can quit your job and be this dream thing. Do it little by little. Take your time. Hone in on your craft. Then all of a sudden, you might look in the mirror and realize, "Oh shit, I'm an artist, I'm an entrepreneur, and I'm a writer. It's freaking happening, and it's amazing." Thank you.
