Life, Values & Legacy: Our Chat with Jastin Artis

We recently had the chance to connect with Jastin Artis and have shared our conversation below.

Good morning Jastin , it’s such a great way to kick off the day – I think our readers will love hearing your stories, experiences and about how you think about life and work. Let’s jump right in? What is a normal day like for you right now?
Good morning it is. Thank you for having me, always humbled to share who I am and what I do. S/o to my dear wife, and two boys, I love you all, and Jamis rest in power, baby boy!

Honestly, my days are far from “normal” — they’re more like a symphony of discipline, pain management, creativity, and leadership. I wake up as a Black man, husband, father, an entrepreneur, and an artist all at once. Living with fibromyalgia and the aftermath of near-death health trauma means my body sets certain limits, but my spirit refuses to clock out. So before I touch a guitar, a mic, or even my email, I check in with myself. Some mornings it’s like “loading… please wait” LOL, but once I find my rhythm, I’m locked in.

A typical day blends writing music, working with artists through A&R IN YOUR POCKET which I’m building my new coaching program, strategizing with the Inviktus team on building the future of creator discovery, and finding ways to serve the community — whether that’s supporting The Royalty Institute of Leadership and Innovation, mentoring young creatives, or helping push a sync event forward with Level Up Music Productions, Corp..

Somewhere in between, I’m knocking out coursework for my second Master’s in PR (graduating with a 4.0 in September), submitting to sync briefs, and plotting marketing campaigns for artists (and myself) I believe in.

And here’s the thing: every day is a balancing act between passion and pain, but that’s where my discipline kicks in. My “normal” day is about making an impact even when I don’t feel 100%. It’s about showing up for others — my sons, my community, my team, my music — while honoring the healing process I’m still in.

If you peeked at my calendar, you’d think: “Jas, how are you doing all of this while managing chronic health?”

And I’d laugh because rest and managing my health is part of the grind, well, focus. My focus is different. I don’t just chase success — I chase purpose.

My normal day? It’s a mixtape of business video calls, guitar riffs, family moments, prayers, meditation, and grounding, and memes in my head reminding me: “God’s not done, so neither am I.”

Can you briefly introduce yourself and share what makes you or your brand unique?
I am Jastin Artis — recording artist, producer, poet, guitarist, A&R coach, entrepreneur, leader, keynote concert speaker, husband, and proud dad. I like to say I’m a leader first, artist second, because everything I do comes back to service, discipline, and creating impact through music and media.

Over the last 15 years, I’ve released 12 albums (with #13 on the way), built an indie A&R service called A&R IN YOUR POCKET, where I am currently revamping to a 12 week program, where artists go from feeling like an overwhelmed, overlooked artist to becoming a confident artist-leader with a sync-ready catalog, a PR-ready brand, and a clear business strategy.

Lastly, focusing on sync licensing — which is getting music in TV/Film, ads, commercials or with brands like the NBA — that let me prove indie artists can play on the biggest stages without sacrificing ownership.

I run multiple lanes, but they all share the same highway: purpose. With Inviktus, I’m helping build a platform that changes how creators are discovered and compensated globally. With The Royalty Institute of Leadership and Innovation, I participated at the institute that is shaping the next generation of young Black male leaders through culturally responsive leadership and innovation training (GO Royalty Prep!!! That’s their footbal team) as a volunteer on the committee as the Marketing and Brand Director. In PR, I support creatives with PR, storytelling, and brand building so their voices cut through the noise.

And still, I’m an artist at heart. My genre, “Hip-Hop Renaissance,” fuses rap, gospel, spoken word, and guitar-driven soul. It’s for people who need grit and hope in the same breath. That’s why I say my music isn’t just heard — it’s felt. As a keynote concert speaker, I merge live performance with powerful storytelling on leadership, resilience, and creativity. It’s not a lecture, it’s a conversation with music — one that leaves audiences inspired to lead with purpose and embrace their own voice.

What makes me unique? I don’t separate my battles from my blessings. Living with fibromyalgia and other chronic health conditions forces me to move differently, but it’s made me more intentional. I live proof that pain and purpose can co-exist. And right now, I’m working on scaling my businesses, growing my PR footprint, finishing my Master’s in PR at Full Sail with a 4.0, and amplifying the voices of indie artists worldwide.

Basically, I’m a polymath creative who believes leadership is the real flex. My life’s work is turning struggle into strategy and making sure others know they can too.

Appreciate your sharing that. Let’s talk about your life, growing up and some of topics and learnings around that. What breaks the bonds between people—and what restores them?
What breaks bonds? Ego, fear, and silence. The moment we choose pride over vulnerability, we start building walls instead of bridges. When people stop listening, stop being honest, or let bitterness run the show, the connection starts to rot. I’ve seen it in families, in music, in business. Broken bonds are rarely about one big blow-up — it’s usually the small, unchecked moments that stack up until the trust is gone.

What restores bonds? The choice to lead rooted in humility. I’ve learned through my own life — losing family connections, surviving health trauma, leading teams, raising a son (from afar) — that restoration starts when somebody chooses to lead by lowering their guard first. Real leadership is admitting, “I was wrong,” or “I’m hurting,” or “I need you.” It’s not weak, it’s powerful.

Music taught me this best. A song connects strangers in seconds because it speaks to a shared truth. That’s what leaders have to do too — create spaces where people feel heard, seen, and safe enough to bring their whole selves. When you do that, bonds aren’t just restored; they come back stronger.

In short: ego breaks bonds, empathy restores them. Leaders have the responsibility to model empathy first.

When did you stop hiding your pain and start using it as power?
I remember when I was much younger, I wore a mask. Then, as you mature as a person, a man, a Black man, as a father, as an artist. I realized more that being silent wasn’t changing things or making me better. I thought the pain of losing my child, losing jobs, surviving near-death health trauma, and battling fibromyalgia should be hidden because I thought nobody wanted to hear it. But hiding pain doesn’t make it disappear — it just eats at you from the inside.

The turning point was 2019 I was pushed to go deeper. I had just lost my second child (Jamis we miss and love you), my health crashed, and my career felt like it was slipping away. I couldn’t hide anymore because the pain was literally shutting my body down. That’s when I realized: if I’m going to survive, I must tell the truth. Not just in therapy, not just in prayer, but in my art more than ever, in my leadership, in how I show up for my sons and my community.

That’s how my music elevated. That’s how I became a keynote concert speaker. I stopped rapping to impress and started rapping to heal and teach. I stopped leading from a title and started leading from my story. And here’s the thing: when I opened up, I found out my pain wasn’t just mine — it was a bridge. People connected with me deeper, because they saw themselves in my story.

Now, pain is the canvas I paint purpose on. I don’t hide it, I harness it. And every stage I touch, every young man or woman I mentor, every song I release is proof that what tried to kill me is now the very thing fueling me.

Alright, so if you are open to it, let’s explore some philosophical questions that touch on your values and worldview. Is the public version of you the real you?
Ohhh yes indeed!!! What you see is what you get; and that’s all of me all the time. But it took time to develop and oh boy, I’m right where I want to be with myself. I get better at confidently being myself everyday.

Early on in my career, I thought I had to play roles or I couldn’t be completely me: the polished artist, the unshakeable leader, the “always strong” Black man. But the truth is, pretending or even the slightest of holding back who you are and your experiences costs more energy than being real. Living with chronic pain, surviving loss, being a husband, being a friend, being a brother, being a dad, leading teams, mentoring young men — none of that leaves room for faking.

The public version of me is the real me, because I refuse to live split. The very reason I don’t have an alter ego. The same Jastin who mentors, gives feedback to producers at Inviktus, or speaks on stage or you hear on a podcast is the same Jastin laughing at memes with my wife, pushing through fibromyalgia flare-ups, or writing songs at 3 a.m. about winning and hope.

That doesn’t mean I share everything — boundaries are healthy — but what I do share is authentic. My brand isn’t a mask, it’s a mirror. And that’s why people connect. They know when I rap about resilience, it’s not a slogan. When I speak about leadership, it’s not theory — it’s lived experience.

The real flex isn’t building an image. It’s being so true to yourself that your image and your reality are the same thing.

Okay, so let’s keep going with one more question that means a lot to us: What is the story you hope people tell about you when you’re gone?
I don’t want my legacy to be about streams, plaques, or even titles. I want the story to be: “He was a man who turned pain into power, who led with love, a go-getta despite what was going on, and who left every room better than he found it.”

I hope people say I lived with courage even when my body tried to stop me. That I gave young Black men and indie artists a blueprint to dream bigger, lead boldly, own their voice, and being vulnerable is far from weakness. I proved that leadership isn’t just about making moves, it’s about making people feel seen, safe, and significant.

I want them to remember me as the father who showed his son what resilience looks like, even when I wasn’t allowed to be around him. The artist who made music you didn’t just hear, you felt. The keynote concert speaker who left audiences believing in themselves more than they did before they walked in. The producer, engineer, or A&R who actually cared and pushed you to grow. The husband who wanted to lead his family but also listened to his wife. The leader who didn’t just talk about faith and purpose but embodied it, even through suffering. And you know, the guy who could always cut up with you! Lol You know we gotta laugh!

If my story is told right, it won’t be about how much I had, but about how much I gave — creativity, wisdom, love, support, and light. That’s the kind of legacy money can’t buy and death can’t erase.

That would be a few things I hope they would say…yeah. (smiles)

Contact Info:

Image Credits
Jastin Artis, Riverside, Insta Headshots

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