Today we’d like to introduce you to Gabriel Jarman.
Hi Gabriel, thanks for sharing your story with us. To start, maybe you can tell our readers some of your backstory.
I was born and raised in Nashville, Tennessee—more specifically, in the small town of Watertown. Growing up, my brothers and I spent so much time at our grandmother’s house. She was always planning some elaborate art project or coming up with little ways to keep us busy and creative. I credit her with so much of who I am today. The horror side of me came mostly from my dad. We were constantly watching the classics together.
From a young age I knew I was different, but it wasn’t until third grade that I could finally name that feeling as queer. I started exploring what that meant slowly—As i got older I was watching drag on my tablet, trans and androgynous people’s ‘get ready videos’ while they talked about their lives—and for the first time, I felt like I’d found where I belonged.
From that point on, I fully immersed myself in the queer experience. I surrounded myself with people like me, and that community only encouraged and inspired me to keep going. I started doing makeup in seventh grade. I’d show up to school in foundation that was definitely not my shade, an eyeshadow stick, and some truly questionable lip gloss. Nobody could tell me anything. They tried, but I was determined to be myself—and hopefully create space for others to do the same.
As my makeup skills improved and I began exploring both sides of the clothing store, I realized I could bring everything I loved together: horror (which has always felt inherently queer-coded), art, makeup, transformation, and living openly and authentically.
I’ve faced challenges, the way every queer person does in this world. But I never questioned what I was doing or looked back. If anything, those challenges only pushed me to be more fully myself.
We all face challenges, but looking back would you describe it as a relatively smooth road?
While I consider myself extremely lucky to have the supportive family and community I’ve built around me, it hasn’t always been sunshine and glitter. I dealt with the usual unoriginal slurs at school, and at times I had to choose between staying in a house where I didn’t feel fully supported.
There once was an evil step-parent who, ironically, was the one who introduced me to mainstream drag shows. But once I started exploring my own self-expression, that support felt more like mockery. I wasn’t allowed in her car or house if there was even the tiniest bit of eyeliner left in my lashes after washing my face to comply. I was left out of vacations for the same reason and pushed to go to church even more.
I finally reached a point where I could no longer sacrifice my happiness and my future—not even for my dad. I was probably 13 or 14 at the time, definitely still in those early teen years.
Can you tell our readers more about what you do and what you think sets you apart from others?
I’d say I’m best known for my authenticity, art skills, and action-shots at drag shows. All of it comes from a genuine love for my queer community.
I, mostly, specialize in SFX makeup and photography though. I’ve always had a deep love for cinematography and psychology, so I enjoy playing with color theory and creating work that makes people think—even when it’s uncomfortable. To me, that’s the point of art. If it doesn’t make you feel something, or allow others to feel something, what’s the point?
I’m proud of my perseverance and my ability to adapt to any situation and make it my own. But what I’m most proud of is teaching myself how to create a space within myself where anyone and everyone can feel safe and welcome.
I create the way I do because I don’t feel the need to follow trends, chase algorithms, or put myself on some platform. I create mostly for myself—because I need to. It’s how I express certain feelings and cope with the world around me.
What do you like best about our city? What do you like least?
Unfortunately, there are more things I dislike about my city than I like. But the things I do love far outweigh the bad.
I don’t intend to give anything negative a spotlight, so I’ll focus on the good.
I love that no matter how big or small our community is—usually depends on where brunch is being held—we always show up and show out.
You might wonder why, if there’s so much that’s hard, I don’t just leave. Because if everyone who felt that way packed up and left, they win. There would be less diversity, less light, less queer joy. Staying feels like a quiet kind of pillar—one I don’t think most people realize the weight of.
Contact Info:
Image Credits
Photography/Makeup/Editing all by me!
Sandwich costume credit absolutely goes to my grandmother though.
