Reginald Green—Transforming Trauma into Masterpieces at the VETART Studio

Reginald Green is a Navy Veteran, Advocate, Artist & Instructor at The Veteran’s Art Project (VETART), a recipient of the Prebys Foundation’s 2025 Healing Through the Arts & Nature grant and the Arts Ecosystem grant. 

The Healing Through the Arts & Nature grant supports organizations that advance health and well-being through arts and/​or nature-based approaches. The Arts Ecosystem grant invests in local arts & culture organizations to protect vital community spaces for creativity, keeping doors open, artists working, and programs alive as federal funding cuts, budget shortfalls, and uncertainty are putting many arts and cultural organizations at risk.

Follow Reggie on Instagram at @original_reggiesart and connect via email at reggie@​vetart.​org

Reggie’s Story

“I’m from Dallas, Texas. I joined the military right out of high school, in 1997. I did my boot camp in Great Lakes, and then my first duty station was in San Diego. I got out of the military in 2013 and have been here ever since. 

I was dealing with a lot of depression and anxiety from the traumas of the military. I suffer from chronic migraines and back pain. I had taken the anthrax shot and it gave me daily headaches and migraines. 

So, after getting out of the military, it was just like, what am I gonna do? 

I checked into recreational therapy at the VA, La Jolla — they introduced me to arts and crafts. I started entering veteran competitions and I was getting a lot of awards. 

One day, I saw a VETART sign there, and I saw a really cool sculpture of a a bronze puzzle piece face. So, I looked at the flyer, they were offering free bronze casting classes where you would get a portrait of yourself in bronze. 

I went there wanting to be immortalized into Egyptian an pharaoh. I wanted to make the whole headdress and everything, so I went above and beyond. I told myself, ​“If I get this for free, I’m going to do the most I can.”

Then, I ended up volunteering for a year and a half, starting in 2013. Steve even took me to New Orleans to a Disabled Veterans Conference.

While volunteering with VETART, I would go to the VA and Steve was casting people’s faces, and I would help him. One day, he was like, ​“so, Reggie, you want that job?” And I said yes. He’s like, ​“You got it!”

So, now I’m back at the recreational therapy program at the VA, but now I’m working and I’m casting people and introducing them to the bronzing process and would send them to Falbrook on the weekends to complete the process. 

Learning with VETART was so interesting because they used a lost wax method by the Benin tribe from centuries ago in Africa. They would make these big African busts that the British took and eventually had to give back. Working with this approach was a way of relating to my ancestry.

I hurt my back on active duty and my first passion was basketball. So, with the injury, I didn’t know what I would do next. Doing ceramics relit my light because I can do something again that I really enjoy.

During COVID, I was in isolation because I didn’t have any family, pets, or anyone around me. I felt like Tom Hanks in Castaway, wondering if I had to get a basketball and put a smiley face on it. I told my mom to FaceTime me. I really didn’t hear from anyone. I was like, ​“I don’t have any friends, like, what’s up?” This put me in a place of having to connect to the creator and realizing it’s just me. And I had to really reflect and pay attention to who’s here for me. 

So I would come into the studio and I started making these little miniature figures because I used to collect G.I. Joe’s when I was young younger. After I made them, I found one of my pieces on the front page of the Coast News Paper. Steve sent me a photo of the article. 

I said, ​“I guess I’m an artist now.” And I haven’t been able to stop since then. 

This is like therapy for me. It really helps me take my mind off of pain and everything else. Since I’ve been doing the work and encouraging other veterans to come, I’ve had people come and say, ​“you inspire me to keep going.” If this is inspiring people, and I enjoy it, and it’s helping with my pain, this is what I need to do. 

As a Black man doing art, there can be stigma or stereotypes but I just do what I want to do. I don’t want to be put inside some box or feel like I can only do things that are considered ​“masculine.”

I used to collect and appreciate art, but now I can take the driver’s seat and create my own. A lot of my pieces come from historical elements, and I portray people that haven’t been represented. And I also like aliens, so I incorporate that into my work. I can do whatever I want and feel free to express myself. 

I love working for VETART, this has been my best job. When I first got here I wondered why everyone was so nice, because I wasn’t used to it. Steve has always been encouraging and supportive of my work and what I want to do. 

I want my work to be seen all over the world. I would like to have a house here with a little studio where I can continue to support veterans. I hope that my art allows me to afford to live out here, because I love to weather here, I love the opportunities, the community and helping veterans with their trauma as well.

Ever since I started focusing on my art, doors have opened up for me. I feel like I’m on my path, on my journey. Everything else that I tried to do, including the military, it seemed like there was always something blocking me, it was like going against a current. 

With art, I didn’t plan to have a job, I just wanted to create. Ever since I’ve been doing it, I’ve been getting a lot of shows and exposure in newspapers and the news. This is where I’m supposed to be and what I’m supposed to do to get my message out, to share my story so it’ll help other people that had traumatic backgrounds or pain from military trauma. 

I feel like my mission is to help heal people.”

Hand of Clay 

(A Journey of Healing) 
- By Reginald Green

They called me slow,
A whisper turned wound,
Echoed in hallways,
Where laughter was cruel and too soon.

My siblings, my shadows,
Cast longer than pain,
Their words, not of love, 
But like cold, bitter rain.

At home I was used,
An afterhtought soul,
By kin and a partner,
Who left my heart full of holes.

Then came the Navy—
Duty wrapped in pride,
But trauma and pain
Came back with the tide.

COVID came silent, 
And so did the truth, 
That friends weren’t forever,
Just ghosts of my youth. 

Alone in the stillness,
I fell into grace,
Met God in the silence, 
And found a new place.

No longer a victim, 
No longer the prey, 
I reched for some clay
And shaped pain away. 

Each sculpture I molded,
Each figure I pressed,
Was part of my healing, 
My soul’s quiet quest.

I crafted with purpose,
With fire in my chest,
Rebuilding my spirit,
Letting old wounds rest.

My hands now protect me, 
My peace I defend,
With art as my weapon,
My healer, my friend.

I walk now in purpose
Not needing a crowd,
I speak with my silence, 
And I live unbowed.

Piece by piece rising, 
From ashes to flame—
A masterpiece forming, 
Signed proudly with my name.

This profile is a feature for People de San Diego, a storytelling project by the Prebys Foundation highlighting valuable community members of San Diego County.