Today we’d like to introduce you to Mike Elder.
Mike, we appreciate you taking the time to share your story with us today. Where does your story begin?
Holy cow….
That’s a big question. One of those that im not sure how to answer
I grew up in south Kansas City. My father restored Corvettes in a small shop behind our house, and my mother made cakes in the basement. Both were artist in their own right, and both were well known for what they did. I remember swearing I’d never follow either path. Life, of course, had other ideas.
My childhood was complicated — heavy and dark in places, adventurous in others. There was real trauma, but there was also a sense of freedom, curiosity, and mischief that felt almost Huck Finn–like. I try to hold onto that side of it now. Tho i know surviving as I did made me see things very differently now. For most my life I carried the darker parts quietly and in secret. I didn’t speak about them, to anyone. I didn’t yet understand how unspoken things can slowly shape you from the inside out. I put on a show. I wasn’t very good at it.
Time rolls on. I went to college, got married, had children. I raced cars, flew airplanes, built hot rods — chasing motion, risk, and connection wherever I could find it. Mostly I was avoiding the pain I had inside,inside, all while not really understanding that, that was what i was doing!
Eventually, I began helping my mother in her cake shop. That led to working there more and more, until one day, on a last-minute whim, I entered a cake competition.
That single choice changed everything. What felt like dumb luck at the time turned into many doors opening — not just to opportunity, but to a life I never would have imagined for myself. Talent, timing, and dumb luck collided, and suddenly I was on a path that is still unfolding in unexpected ways.
It’s been a long, strange, beautiful ride — full of highs and lows — sometimes it honestly feels like I’m talking about a different person, another version of myself, even a stranger. But every piece of it, especially the hard parts, led me here. I wouldn’t trade any of it. Well,maybe i would? hahaha.
Would you say it’s been a smooth road, and if not what are some of the biggest challenges you’ve faced along the way?
From the outside, it probably looked smooth. Effortless, even. People often told me so even. And that’s the funny part.
It was an odd mix. I was good at things — usually very good. I pushed myself hard, constantly trying to outdo what I’d done before, or what anyone else was doing. Somewhere along the way, I convinced myself that being exceptional was the only way I could be lovable. I was a show off, life was a performance. It was exhausting.
Outwardly, it worked. I “won.” I could do almost anything I set my mind to. People wanted more of my work, and that was really rad. I got to travel, to teach, to meet incredible people, and to do some truly ridiculous, once-in-a-lifetime things. I’ve made cakes around the world, in the jungle, in medieval castles, and even in a monastery. I’ve created works for some of the most famous people in the world too, and even had them tell me I was the greatest. Pretty nuts huh?
And yet, I couldn’t accept it.
Inside, I felt empty. My personal life was unraveling — family relationships were painful, romantic relationships strained. It was anything but smooth or easy. For all the success on the outside, I was struggling deeply on the inside.
All I really wanted was peace. To feel worthy without having to prove it. I searched for that feeling everywhere, tried everything I knew how — and many times, it came at a terrible cost.
As you know, we’re big fans of you and your work. For our readers who might not be as familiar what can you tell them about what you do?
*Laughs.* I love this question — mostly because I get asked it all the time and still don’t have a real answer.
So I’ll simplify: I’m an artist. With commitment issues maybe?
I’ve never been great at doing just one thing. Maybe it’s a short attention span, maybe it’s curiosity, or maybe my brain just refuses to stay in one lane. I’m best known for cake sculpting — I’ve done a bunch of TV shows, sculpted cakes live on television and at events, and I genuinely love it. It’s ridiculous, creative, and incredibly fun. It also feeds that inner child in me who still longs for applause and frosting in equal measure.
Lately, though, I’ve shifted gears. I still make cakes, but now it’s about a fifty-fifty split. The rest of the time I’m building sculptures, painting murals, and generally saying “yes” to whatever weird, exciting idea the wind blows my way. I don’t worry too much about labels, or even if I’ve ever done it before— if it involves creating something out of nothing, I’m probably interested. Huh… scratch that, im in!
What makes you happy?
Man… that’s a great question. And I honestly don’t know if I’m the only guy who feels this way, or if this is just what happens when you live long enough to look back and go, *“Oh. That’s what that was.”*
My definition of happiness has changed a lot over the course of my life. For most of it, I chased happiness relentlessly — like it was something just ahead of me, something I could catch if I sacrificed myself enough or worked hard enough. After all everyone se seemed to have it?
For a long time, I thought happiness lived in what I could *do*. What I could give. How much I could fix. How hard I could love. I believed money, cars, a good job, a wife, all the classic milestones, would equal happiness. And sometimes, it did. At least for a while.
These days, though, happiness looks very different. Now it’s peace. Inner peace and external.
From where I stand, I’d swear on this: without inner peace — or more accurately, without *allowing yourself* to have inner peace — there is no real happiness. As a kid, life handed me lots of reasons to feel ashamed, even guilty, and I carried that weight into everything I did. It was always there, screaming in the background. As life goes on, you add to the tally even. I gained a lot of things to regret, to feel bad about.
Even as I worked through parts of it, I held onto that shame like it was proof that I was a good person. Somewhere along the way, I decided that self-punishment meant I cared — and caring meant I was good. Bad people don’t care, right? I cared. Therefore, I must be good.
It’s wacky logic. And honestly? It’s complete garbage.
Letting go of that didn’t make me a bad guy. — it made me lighter. And for the first time, happiness stopped being something I chased… and started being something I allowed for myself.
I’ve spent most of my life proving I was worth something to the people I shouldnt have had to convince— through work, success, and creation — and I finally learned that the real answer was allowing myself peace.. letting go of the things I held against myself. Every day I tell my self three simple words. “I forgive you” its powerful. You should try it. I quit beating myself up all the time and just started being nicer. The world is full of things that will bring you down. Hurt you… The people you love shouldn’t be among them and most importantly, neither should you.
Contact Info:
- Website: https://Blacksheepartz.com
- Instagram: Blacksheepartzkc
- Facebook: /blacksheepcustomcakes
- Youtube: Blacksheepcustomcakes
