Rob Corradetti was the perfect artist to enlist for the cover of this year’s Psychedelia Issue. He’s the mastermind behind Killer Acid — a collection of psychedelic screen prints, T-shirts and ephemera. In addition to having his artwork featured in galleries and malls in the U.S., Killer Acid has also been a part of some impressive collaborations with a diverse group of brands, including Meow Wolf, Jerry Garcia, High Times, Polaroid and Adult Swim, to name a few. With Killer Acid’s 15th anniversary approaching, Leaf caught up with Rob to talk about his childhood, artistic influences, creative process, most memorable trip and more.
Where are you based? Where are you from originally?
Killer Acid is based in Santa Cruz, California, a grungy little town famous for surfing, skateboarding and weird psychedelic shit. And you can’t forget “The Lost Boys.”
I was born in Delaware and moved to New York City when I was 20 to make it big time. I lived there from 1999 until 2018, and then we moved out West in search of more peace and quiet. Killer Acid started in the winter of 2010, so this will be our 15th anniversary coming up.
What was your childhood like?
I’m always tempted to recite the Dr. Evil monologue when someone asks me this. “My childhood was typical: summers in Rangoon … luge lessons. In the spring, we’d make meat helmets.” I actually have mostly really good memories of childhood. Growing up in the 1980s, I was probably in the last generation of free-range kids. My parents would say, “Be home by 5:30,” and there was a lot of wandering to do between the creek, train tracks and woods. There was a lot of mystery out in the woods.
When and how did you decide to become a professional artist?
I was always the kid in class drawing comics of everyone, and later I made elaborate pen and ink drawings for art contests. My parents were both public school teachers, so they had summers off. One summer, we happened upon a weird little screen printing shop in Ocean City, Maryland. At my dad’s suggestion, the guys in there checked out my notebook. Liking what they saw, they offered to make some shirts with my designs. The next week or two, I went by there and helped out every day, working the cash register and picking up the finer points of screen printing. This was 1994, so everything was still very analog. This is maybe the first example of fate finding me. I was always doing my thing, though, and carrying my notebook around. You never know when a door will appear. As soon as it comes, it’s gone. The shop owners were very kind. As payment, they gave me a box of T-shirts, which I kept in the trunk of my car and sold to friends and hippies at the park for $20.
Who are your main influences as an artist?
One of my main influences is my wife, Sierra. I feel spiritually complete watching her work on a painting. I also get a ton of joy watching my daughter draw. It’s cool when all three of us are in the same room working. Otherwise, I was a huge fan of “Pee-wee’s Playhouse” growing up. I take a lot of inspiration from vintage novelties and cartoons as well as the Hairy Who, RAW comics magazine, Stanley Mouse and Jim Phillips. I came up in the underground comics scene revolving around Desert Island Comics in Brooklyn. That’s where I first got my start.
Where do you usually draw inspiration from when starting a new piece?
A majority of my ideas pop into my mind as a short phrase or a few words. I might be listening to music, watching a movie or riding my bike. Sometimes, an old phrase comes to mind, something I remember my mom or grandma saying, or hearing on the radio. I’ll jot this stuff down in my ideas notebook. And a few days, weeks or even years later, I might get another piece of the puzzle, or I’ll go back to the notebook and the concept will flash in my mind fully formed. It’s a bit of a long, complicated process for me. I definitely subscribe to the David Lynch school of “Catching the Big Fish.” Drawing for me is like medication and meditation. If I don’t do it regularly, I start feeling squirrely.
How long does it typically take you to finish a piece
I like to say, “It takes 20 years and one day.”
Do you have any favorites among your work?
Some of my favorite things are super simple cartoons or doodles that I don’t belabor. They just pop out of my hand on their own. I think true psychedelia is like that: no filter, just the raw soul or the yearning for expression. This kind of work seems to resonate with people. It’s like plucking an idea that has always felt like it existed from the cosmic consciousness. You can’t imagine the world without it. It’s just been there waiting for someone to see it.
What kind of music do you tend to gravitate toward?
I listen to all sorts of music but gravitate toward ’60s and ’70s rock like The Seeds, Chocolate Watchband, Velvet Underground and the Dead, of course. One of my all-time favorite albums is Paul McCartney’s “Ram.” I did an illustration assignment about that album once and listened to it a billion times.
How significant a role does getting high play in your creative process?
I prefer Emerald Triangle outdoor sativas for maximum creative vibes. Sometimes, if I’m in a rut, it’s the little jump I need to start the engine. I also enjoy the contrast of taking breaks and letting my mind wander. I don’t need weed to be creative, but it sure helps remove the daily life bummers and barriers between feeling blah and getting amped.
Most memorable/impactful trip
I took two tabs of Orange Sunshine at a park when I was a senior in high school. It was a crisp October day, and I was with my three best buds in the world. It was everything you’d expect from an acid trip, with all the visuals. I saw airplanes kaleidoscoping and radiating across the sky, and trees made of a billion crawling eyes and shapes. I was walking into doors within doors in my mind, experiencing birth and death and reliving memories that had been locked inside my mind for years. I remember having a small lenticular button with McDonald’s characters grinning on it. I said, “This button is my sanity.” My friend grabbed it out of my hand and threw it into the muddy creek. I was splashing around in there trying to find it for a few minutes, getting soaked and all muddy. Then, we were laughing hysterically in a fit of madness. I never did find it. The next day, I knew my life had changed in some way, and I was determined to never go back. I felt supercharged like a cosmic shiny Pokémon.
Was there a moment when you realized that you’d made it as a professional artist?
This might sound kind of corny, but I rarely feel satisfied with accomplishments. The thrill for me is the act of creation and the ideas I’m attempting to make real. I’m fulfilled when I see the joy on other people’s faces who are looking at my work. My entire goal as an artist is to make this place more fun.
