Connect
To Top

Story & Lesson Highlights with Just Zero of Salt Lake City

We recently had the chance to connect with Just Zero and have shared our conversation below.

Hi Just, thank you for taking the time to reflect back on your journey with us. I think our readers are in for a real treat. There is so much we can all learn from each other and so thank you again for opening up with us. Let’s get into it: Have you ever been glad you didn’t act fast?
Absolutely. Almost everything I’ve done with Justified Ink has taken longer than I ever planned — and I’m grateful for that. There’s a kind of pain that comes with creating for the unknown, pouring yourself into work that might never see daylight. Every project that fell flat hurt — every silence after a release, every idea that didn’t land. But that pain became pressure. It pushed me to dig deeper, to refine, to keep building instead of chasing a break that might burn out as fast as it came.

Over time, I stopped trying to move fast and started trying to move right. What came out of that is an entire arsenal — fonts, designs, methods, systems — all forged through time, not luck. These are things that stood the test of drought and failure.

People talk about timing like it’s a stroke of fortune, but for me it’s more like erosion — slow, steady, unstoppable. The ones who rise fast often fade the same way. Staying in the shadows gave me space to grow unseen, to cast roots deep enough to hold through the longest storms.

The truth is, I’ve never needed the big break. I needed time. And time is what built Justified Ink into what it is — something that could never have been rushed.

Can you briefly introduce yourself and share what makes you or your brand unique?
I’m Just Zero, founder and artist behind Justified Ink — a house built from obsession, solitude, and twenty years of ink-stained alchemy. What began as spray paint and sketchbooks became a lifelong excavation of letters, symbols, and shadowed meaning. Every design, font, and garment that comes out of Justified Ink is part of a larger experiment — to unearth beauty from decay, to prove that creation is an act of devotion, even when no one’s watching.

Justified Ink isn’t a brand that arrived overnight. It was carved slowly, layer by layer, through failure, reinvention, and long stretches of silence. While others were chasing the spotlight, I was learning how to work in the dark — refining every stroke, building my own tools, and crafting a language of my own.

At its core, Justified Ink is a study in duality — art and artifact, scripture and graffiti, elegance and ruin. It’s for those who find meaning in the forgotten, who see relics where others see rubble. My work draws from gothic lettering, occult symbols, and the timeless urge to leave a mark — not for fame, but for permanence.

I’m not here to follow trends or chase algorithms. I’m here to build a world — one letter, one texture, one spell at a time.

Thanks for sharing that. Would love to go back in time and hear about how your past might have impacted who you are today. Who taught you the most about work?
I’d say it’s a combination of lessons — some taught, some earned.

My dad had an embroidery production business when I was growing up. I rarely got paid, but I gained something far more valuable — the foundation of relentless work ethic. We were a family operation, and failure wasn’t an option. Deadlines weren’t suggestions; they were absolutes. I learned to work through exhaustion, to find rhythm in repetition, and to understand that night isn’t just the end of a day — it’s a second day waiting to be used. That’s where I learned discipline, grit, and the magic that comes from pushing past your limits.

What I had to figure out on my own was how to evolve — to adapt to uncertainty and step into unfamiliar roles without hesitation. I’ve worn many titles: production designer, artist, web developer, marketing strategist. Each transition was uncomfortable, each new skill a small war of its own. But every time, I came out stronger — leading teams, refining systems, and building things that last.

In a world that changes by the hour, the greatest lesson I’ve learned is this: mastery isn’t about knowing everything — it’s about being ready to learn anything.

Was there ever a time you almost gave up?
I don’t think I could ever truly give up — but there have been plenty of times I wanted to quit. Still, deep down, I’ve always known this path isn’t something I can walk away from. It’s not a hobby or a phase; it’s who I am. So the choice has always been the same: struggle forward, or decay. And I’ve never been one for stagnation.

I’ve lost more than I’ve won, and most losses came right after periods of progress. I once had an incredible team producing murals and apparel — that fell apart, and I had to pick up the pieces and keep moving. I’ve had networks, connections, and collaborations that burned bright before burning out. I’ve sat on boards, joined committees, held positions — all of it meaningful, but all of it temporary. The comedown always follows the climb.

But none of it destroyed me. Each collapse stripped away what wasn’t essential, leaving only what could survive the fire. I’ve rebuilt again and again, using the rubble as the foundation for something stronger. What time and trial burned away was never the work — it was the weakness.

I think our readers would appreciate hearing more about your values and what you think matters in life and career, etc. So our next question is along those lines. What’s a belief or project you’re committed to, no matter how long it takes?
This is the path I’ve chosen — or maybe it chose me. Either way, there’s no turning back. It’s not about chasing comfort or approval. It’s about building something that endures, even if no one sees the full picture but me. I’ve always believed that the work itself is the real teacher. Every failure, every late night, every project that breaks me down and rebuilds me — it all feeds into the same truth: this is the life I was meant to live.

Life, to me, is a lifelong learning project. There’s always something to refine — a skill to sharpen, a process to rethink, a lesson hidden in the chaos. I don’t believe in “arriving.” I believe in evolving, in adapting, in staying curious enough to never plateau. The art, the business, the discipline — they’re all connected. Each is a reflection of persistence, of finding new ways to stay alive in spirit and in purpose. So no matter how long it takes, I’ll keep learning, building, and becoming. The work is never done, and that’s exactly what makes it worth doing.

Some days it feels like progress. Others, like dragging bones through the dust. But I know this: life itself is a lifelong learning project. There’s always something to sharpen, something to forge, something to become. So I stay on the path, no matter how long it takes.

Okay, so let’s keep going with one more question that means a lot to us: Could you give everything your best, even if no one ever praised you for it?
If praise was sustenance, I would have starved long ago. Recognition is rare in this kind of work — the kind done in the dark, behind the curtain, long before anyone sees the finished form. Of course, it’s always good to be acknowledged by peers, clients, or the industry, but that’s not the reason I keep going. I’ve survived the vast desert of progress by quietly working in the shadows, knowing that real growth often happens where no one’s watching.

Even when I had stable, full-time work — the kind that could’ve kept me comfortable — I spent my nights and weekends chasing what mattered most. Now, in the absence of those lifelines, I pursue it even harder. This isn’t a hobby; it’s survival. I’m not building for popularity or fleeting praise — I’m building something that lasts. A legacy. A foundation my family can stand on long after I’m gone. If no one ever applauds it, that’s fine. The work itself is the proof.

Contact Info:

Suggest a Story: VoyageUtah is built on recommendations from the community; it’s how we uncover hidden gems, so if you or someone you know deserves recognition please let us know here.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

More in Local Stories