Artist Sarah Osorio, center, connects and creates with fellow artists during High Contrast’s weekly drawing sessions hosted at eyedrum gallery. (Photographs by Dustin Timbrook)
On July 15, more than two dozen visual artists gathered in Atlanta’s eyedrum gallery, working from sundown into the early hours of the morning. Huddled around tables stacked high with pens, brushes, tablets and books, some were busy sketching while others put finishing touches on their paintings. For many creatives, this kind of all-nighter is the anxious symptom of a looming deadline, but, for the participants of High Contrast, this was just another casual Tuesday night.
“It’s like the best day of my week,” said illustrator Joe Havasy as he drafted thumbnails on loose leaf paper. “I get to see all my friends that are artists and they inspire me and push me to go harder and do more interesting work.”
Founded in December of 2023 by creative multi-hyphenate Dosa Kim, High Contrast began as a remedy to feeling isolated or depressed while creating. “It was just lonely,” said Kim, describing his return to Atlanta’s art scene after several years of living and working as a concept artist in California. “Being in LA, it’s just more community based . . . When I got back here I just didn’t find that.”
Kim’s solution was simple — start a weekly drawing group. He began by hosting modest sessions in his own studio at the co-working facility Art & INDUSTRY. “At first it was one person named Eemer who showed up. And then before you know it, Raz showed up. And then it started to snowball from there.” And snowball it did. In the year-and-a-half since its inception, High Contrast has built a loyal and enthusiastic contingent. Many of its regulars rarely miss a Tuesday night session. “It’s almost like church,” said Kim.
The congregation ranges from seasoned street art veterans who rib each other playfully to bright-eyed upstarts who exchange recommendations for their favorite tutorial books. Uniting them all is a spirit of sharing — techniques, materials, food and even opportunities. No one medium or style defines the enterprise. Some artists practice drafting in perspective while others explore hand-lettering with parallel pens. Some render neutral organic forms in charcoal or paint while their neighbors conjure neon-soaked illustrations with digital tablets. Those who don’t draw come equipped with crafting supplies, snacks or good conversation.
A guiding tenet of checking your ego at the door keeps the energy of High Contrast warm and welcoming. It’s a principle that alleviates much of the anxiety newer artists feel about others judging their work while also allowing creative professionals to pursue ideas free from the pressures and constraints of their corporate day jobs.
One of those professionals is graphic designer Leah Abucayan, who spent the evening sketching stylized portraits of her groupmates. “I feel like High Contrast forces you to do something for fun just for yourself. You’re around people who are doing the same thing — something non-competitive,” she said.
Like many members, Abucayan’s experience with the collective extends beyond the Tuesday night meet-ups and into special events organized by Kim. The following Saturday she would compete in a high-energy Ink Battle before a crowd of hundreds of excited Dragon Con attendees. Her opponent? Friend and High Contrast longtimer Raz.
These auxiliary opportunities play a major role in building members up. Several painters got their first stab at a public wall during the Atlanta Crossroads Mural Festival, co-organized by Kim with local muralist Chris Wright. The Fortuna Art Show (May 2025) exhibited each creator’s unique style through a collaborative custom tarot deck. Some projects, like a community-illustrated scroll and a Secret Santa art exchange, are less public-facing but still help to foster emotional understanding and long-term connections between artists.
“Almost every project that we do, we make sure that we represent like 20% brand-new talent,” Kim said. “It doesn’t feel like you’re amongst gods or anything like that. We’re all a bunch of dorks running around trying to figure out what we’re making and stuff. So that’s fun.”
High Contrast has a transgressive and revolutionary social media aesthetic — stark photocopied flyer designs, balaclavas as motif — but the prevailing energy in the space is one of kindness, acceptance and generosity. Although Kim never explicitly referred to the arrangement as a family, that relationship dynamic was palpable. Halfway through the event, Kim lit candles on a chocolate cake, delivering it to two grinning members of the collective. Friends gathered around to sing happy birthday, slices were passed around the room and the artmaking carried on. It was a special occasion, but it felt like something that might happen here every week. Something deeply human.
As midnight passed by, the group unfurled their long paper scroll and continued a months-long process of filling yard after yard with spontaneous drawings and text, only to roll it back up and tuck it away until the next gathering. Why invest so much time and energy into a piece too large to fully display? Kim hinted at an explanation when relaying his dismay about generative AI’s disruptive effect on creative careers.
“You know, I got really defeated when I saw the writing on the wall. I was like, ‘Damn, this sucks.’ But, by the same token, there’s all these people here,” he said. “They’re not doing it for any other reason but to get with like-minded people that like to make things. It’s a testament that humans are going to be doing what humans do. It’s kind of awesome.”
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Dustin Timbrook is a creative generalist working in art, film and music. He volunteers on the board of directors for Avondale Arts Alliance. Timbrook loves spending time with his family, playing with dogs and gardening.
