Cox’s work blends magic, romance, and fantasy. Her story reflects her hometown’s artistic legacy, along with the need for community structures to help the next generation of artists thrive creatively, as well as professionally.
For more than a century, visitors have flocked to Brown County for its galleries, rolling hills, fall colors, and the promise of handmade beauty. For Cox, who graduated from Brown County High School in 2022, that reputation was both comforting and intimidating.
“I grew up in an art colony,” she said. “It felt like there were artists everywhere. I didn’t know if my contemporary art would have a spot.”
Art, however, was never a question for her. Left-handed and relentlessly observant, Cox remembers calling herself an artist as early as kindergarten. When asked what she wanted to be, her answer never changed.
Even so, by high school, doubt crept in. Career classes encouraged practicality, and art felt competitive —especially in a place where creativity was so abundant. “I thought maybe I should look for something less competitive,” she admits.
But her parents and teachers had other ideas.
From elementary and middle school art teacher Laurette Roales, to high school instructors Andi Bartels and Lance Miller, Cox found consistent encouragement. Her teachers submitted her work to competitions, and the results were affirming. One piece, “A Song So Beautiful,” toured galleries for four years and won awards.
“Seeing my art in a gallery,” she said, “made me see myself as an artist.” The reactions—from judges, from strangers—helped quiet the voice in her head that constantly compared her work to the artists she admired most.
Her parents, Jennifer and Benjamin Cox, were her earliest and most passionate advocates. Both painters themselves, though not professional artists, they nurtured her creativity. She said her father once worried that his daughter’s skill and success in advanced math classes might distract her from art. Her mother, Cox says, “would support anything I wanted to do.”
Today, Cox balances painting with a part-time job as assistant lifeguard manager at Abe Martin Lodge. The job is less stressful than full-time work, giving her space to create.
Her commissions often come from former classmates, friends, and community members. One of her first paid commissions came from an unexpected supporter: her high school student resource officer, an art lover who had visited galleries around the world. That vote of confidence still matters.
Cox’s work is whimsical and magical, often romantic and rooted in fantasy. Recently, her values have begun to shape not just what she paints, but how. Concerned about the environmental impact of plasticbased acrylic paints, she has shifted toward natural-earth pigments and is exploring oil painting. Sustainability matters to Cox, as does living in a place surrounded by nature.
“I love the trees. The foliage. The community,” she said. “I feel very privileged to be part of this beautiful place.”
Yet for all Brown County offers young artists, Cox sees a gap that opened sharply after high school. While student contests and local galleries helped build her confidence early on, “after high school, you’re suddenly up against professional artists,” she said. “I haven’t really seen a community system after that.” The transition from celebrated student to struggling professional was abrupt.
The gap widened when business entered the picture. Like many young creatives, Cox wants to paint—but she also wants to support herself through her art. Learning about LLCs, tax compliance, and pricing has been daunting, she said. “Pricing your work is hard,” Cox said. “It’s your heart.” Calculating hourly value can feel discouraging, and she said underselling is a constant fear.
Cox dreams of finding a business mentor and believes the artists who prevailed over this season in their own careers could offer community classes on the business side of art, mentorship programs, and contests specifically for emerging artists.
Despite the challenges, Cox said she believes staying in Brown County is not only possible, it’s right. While many young people feel they must leave their hometowns to succeed, she sees Brown County as a “gem.” Tourists come here looking to buy art, she said. Artists are everywhere. Her family is here. So is a shared sense of care —for the environment, for the land, for each other, Cox said.
Looking ahead five years, she hopes to paint on larger canvases, explore impressionism blended with realism, and find gallery representation. She dreams of selling prints and originals, having enough financial stability to donate generously, and building a life rooted in passion without burning herself out.
“Patience,” she said. “It’s a journey.”
Cox said she believes emerging artists like herself are proof that Brown County’s artistic legacy is alive and evolving. But her story also points to what’s needed next: the community must invest not only in celebrating art, but in teaching young artists how to survive as business owners. “Talent is already here,” she said. “With the right structure, the next generation won’t just pass through—they’ll stay, thrive, and build something lasting.”
Illyana Cox’s work is available at brand.site/illyanaseye and on Instagram @illyanaseye.