Life, Values & Legacy: Our Chat with Ben Workman

We recently had the chance to connect with Ben Workman and have shared our conversation below.

Ben, so good to connect and we’re excited to share your story and insights with our audience. There’s a ton to learn from your story, but let’s start with a warm up before we get into the heart of the interview. What are you being called to do now, that you may have been afraid of before?
What I Am Being Called to Do Now

For over a decade, my art has been a vessel for healing—a visual language born from a divine encounter in 2011 that set me on a mission to confront hate, bullying, and intolerance. Every brushstroke has carried the weight of that calling. But now, I’m being called to reveal the source of that mission more openly: my faith in Jesus Christ.

As a gay man, I was told that my faith would be unwelcome, that speaking the name of Jesus might alienate those who embraced my art but not my beliefs. I listened for a time, out of fear. But fear is not my muse—truth is. And the truth is, my journey as an artist began with prayer. It was God who led me to paint. It was the Holy Spirit who stirred the colors in my soul. To deny that is to deny the very heartbeat of my work.

I know this declaration may cost me followers. But I will not sacrifice authenticity for applause. My faith is not a contradiction to my identity—it is the foundation of my creativity. I am called now to stand fully in both: as a gay man and a follower of Christ, creating art that reflects divine love and radical inclusion.

This next chapter of my mission is not just about ending hate—it’s about embodying truth. My canvas will continue to speak, but now it will speak with even greater clarity. I paint because I believe. I believe because I was called. And I will no longer separate the two.

Can you briefly introduce yourself and share what makes you or your brand unique?
I am Jumper Maybach—an abstract artist, global brand founder, and spiritual warrior for love. My work is rooted in the explosive instinct of Abstract Expressionism, born from trauma and transformed through healing. Art Dubai once called me “The 21st Century Jackson Pollock,” but my mission reaches beyond paint. I create to dismantle hate, bullying, and intolerance, and to offer a visual language for redemption.

My journey began in 2010, when I shed the name Ben Workman and stepped into the identity of Jumper Maybach. It was a rebirth—spiritually, artistically, and personally. In 2011, after a profound experience in prayer, I was called to paint. That divine encounter ignited my purpose: to use art as a beacon for healing and reconciliation. Since then, my canvases have traveled the globe—from the Louvre to the Venice Biennale—each one carrying a message of compassion, unity, and truth.

But now, I am being called to do something I once feared: to speak openly about my faith in Jesus Christ.

As a gay man, I was told that my faith would offend, that I should keep it hidden to protect my brand or avoid alienating communities I love. But I will not sacrifice my truth for comfort. My identity and my faith are not contradictions—they are miracles. The Holy Spirit lives within me, and it is that divine presence that fuels every brushstroke, every collection, every act of advocacy.

My new series, God is Awesome, is a bold declaration of that truth. It is a celebration of divine love, spiritual awakening, and the beauty of living authentically. These works are not just paintings—they are visual prayers. They reflect the light that pulled me from darkness, the grace that transformed trauma into testimony, and the courage to love without compromise.

I know I may lose followers. But I will not lose myself. I will not tolerate being held back by fear or silence. The world is aching for truth, and I am called to be a voice—through color, through form, through faith.

My philanthropy echoes this conviction. I support organizations that uplift the marginalized, but I hold them accountable to reject hate in every form. Love cannot be selective. Whether Christian, Jewish, Muslim, LGBT, or any community—every soul deserves dignity. That is the heart of my mission.

Jumper Maybach is not just a brand. It is a legacy of light. I am the artist living the art—a testimony of resilience, faith, and an unwavering call to love boldly, paint fiercely, and speak truth without apology.

Amazing, so let’s take a moment to go back in time. Who saw you clearly before you could see yourself?
Before I ever picked up a brush, before the world knew my name, before I had the courage to live as Jumper Maybach—the Lord Jesus Christ saw me.

He saw me in the shadows of my childhood, in the trauma and confusion of growing up gay in a world that didn’t understand. He saw me when I was closeted, hurting, and searching for purpose. And He saw the artist, the advocate, the vessel of light I would become—long before I could.

In 2011, when I experienced a divine encounter through prayer, it wasn’t just a moment of inspiration—it was a revelation. Jesus didn’t just call me to paint; He called me to heal. He gave me a mission to end hate, bullying, and intolerance, and He gave me the courage to live it out loud.

I’ve been told I couldn’t be both gay and Christian. That I had to choose between my identity and my faith. But Jesus never asked me to choose. He embraced me fully. He saw my heart, my pain, my potential—and He loved me into transformation.

Every canvas I create is a reflection of that love. My new series, God is Awesome, is a celebration of the One who saw me clearly when I was still lost. It’s a visual testimony to the grace that found me, the truth that freed me, and the Spirit that lives within me.

Jesus Christ saw me before I saw myself. And now, through my art, I see the world more clearly too—with compassion, conviction, and the unwavering belief that love always wins.

What did suffering teach you that success never could?
uccess gave me platforms, exhibitions, and accolades. It brought my art to the Louvre, to Dubai, to collectors and galleries around the world. But suffering—suffering taught me who I truly am.

It taught me that healing is not found in applause, but in surrender. That identity is not built on acceptance, but on truth. That the deepest beauty comes not from technique, but from testimony.

Suffering taught me to listen to the quiet voice of the Holy Spirit when the world was loud with rejection. It taught me that being marginalized, harassed, and silenced because of my sexual orientation was not the end of my story—it was the beginning of my calling. It was in the pain that Jesus Christ met me, saw me, and called me to paint. Not for fame, but for freedom.

Success never asked me to be brave. Suffering did.

It asked me to step out of the closet not just as a gay man, but as a Christian. It asked me to speak truth when silence was safer. It asked me to love those who hated me, and to forgive those who wounded me. And it taught me that the most powerful art is born not from comfort, but from conviction.

My new series, God is Awesome, is a reflection of that truth. It’s not just a celebration of divine love—it’s a declaration that suffering can be sacred. That through Christ, trauma becomes testimony. And that the light I now paint with was forged in the fire of adversity.

Suffering taught me to see with spiritual eyes. To love without condition. To create without compromise. And to live as Jumper Maybach—fully, freely, and faithfully.

Next, maybe we can discuss some of your foundational philosophies and views? Where are smart people getting it totally wrong today?
Today, some of the most educated voices in society—those with degrees, platforms, and influence—are getting it totally wrong by mistaking intellectual certainty for moral superiority. They’ve built echo chambers where dissent is not dialogue, but a threat. And in those chambers, “cancel culture” has become a plague.

The idea that anyone who holds a different view must be silenced, shamed, or erased is not enlightenment—it’s oppression dressed in academic robes. It’s the antithesis of progress. True intelligence invites complexity. It wrestles with nuance. It honors the dignity of disagreement. But what we’re seeing now is a dangerous trend: smart people using their intellect not to illuminate, but to dominate.

I’ve lived this firsthand. As a gay Christian artist, I’ve been told by both religious and secular communities that my identity is incompatible with my faith. That I must choose one truth over another. That my testimony is too inconvenient for their narrative. But I refuse to be canceled by either side.

Jesus Christ didn’t cancel people—He called them. He didn’t shame the broken—He healed them. And He certainly didn’t demand ideological purity before offering love. That’s the model I follow. That’s the truth I paint.

My new series, God is Awesome, is a response to this cultural sickness. It’s a celebration of divine love that transcends human arrogance. It’s a visual protest against the tyranny of cancellation and a reminder that grace is greater than judgment.

Smart people are getting it wrong when they forget that wisdom begins with humility. That love is not selective. And that truth is not afraid of questions—it welcomes them.

I will not be silenced. I will not be erased. I will continue to speak, paint, and live in the fullness of who I am—because the One who saw me clearly before I saw myself never asked me to be perfect. He asked me to be faithful.

Thank you so much for all of your openness so far. Maybe we can close with a future oriented question. What is the story you hope people tell about you when you’re gone?
When my time on this earth is finished, I hope the story people tell about me is not just about the art I created—but about the faith that gave it life.

I hope they say my faith in Jesus Christ was unwavering. That I stood boldly in truth, even when it cost me comfort. That I painted with conviction, not for fame, but to reflect the divine love that transformed me. That every canvas carried a message of healing, unity, and light because the Spirit of God lived within me.

I hope they remember that I refused to be silenced. That I stood as a gay Christian artist in a world that told me I couldn’t be both—and I proved them wrong with every brushstroke. That I chose love over fear, grace over judgment, and truth over approval.

I hope my art lives on—not just in galleries and collections, but in hearts. I hope it continues to speak long after I’m gone, reminding people that beauty is born from faith, and that love is the most powerful force we have.

And above all, I hope they say this: Jumper Maybach was a testimony. His life, his art, his mission—they were all rooted in the belief that God is awesome, and that through Him, even the deepest wounds can become masterpieces.

Contact Info:

Image Credits
Jumper Maybach, LLC

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