‘What does a stoner even look like?’ Meet the Fresno artist who’s redefining potheads and creativity

It’s a late Sunday in April, sunny with just enough pretty clouds drifting by, the kind of day you’ve been waiting all year. A soft breeze tiptoes through the back patio of Sour Milk, one of Fresno’s most eccentric gift shops. Somewhere in the background, you hear Bob Marley singing “every little thing is gonna be alright,” and you believe him.

Around the patio, the air hums with a kind of beautiful, low-stakes chaos. Gushers wrappers crinkle, Capri Suns are slurped and tossed aside, the unmistakable scent of Doritos and Cheetos lingers like summer. 

You see hands moving with mismatched rhythm, flipping through faded photos. Tables scattered with stickers of wonky-eyed cartoon characters and scraps torn from old magazines and postcards. Someone lights a joint with the same casual ease as uncapping a glue stick. A few folks lean back, gummy edibles tucked in cheeks, giggling at the absurdity of a Lisa Frank dolphin sticker next to a super important newspaper clipping.

At the door, you met Danielle Crouch, a 30-year-old artist from Selma and Kingsburg. She’s the one who’s turned this laid-back Sunday gathering of about 15 other people into a celebration of unfiltered creativity—cutting loose in a haze of laughter, stickers, and weed, surrounded by fellow stoners who get it.

Officially, this get-together is called “Joints n Junk.” It’s scrapbooking, sure—but it’s also a rebellion against clean lines and grown-up rules. It’s something the internet calls ‘junk journaling,’ the art of creating a personalized journal with repurposed materials, without worrying about perfection. 

And it’s a celebration of cannabis culture, where the haze of weed adds its own layer of creativity to the mix, making everything feel a little more relaxed and free.

Crouch says she’s always dreamed of creating a space where no one judges you. You won’t be criticized for having a SpongeBob sticker upside down and half-covered with a Fruit by the Foot wrapper, or for scrawling your name like a kindergartener on the back of a Polaroid. 

She creates a warm, welcoming space where creativity can thrive—a comforting escape from the constant stream of heavy, disheartening news. 

“What we’re seeing with the state of the world right now is that anything is possible,” said Crouch. “So why should we put a cap on what cannabis-friendly and community events look like? I want to bring a sense of community, for people to feel seen, heard and not ashamed to smoke.”

The late afternoon is part of a series of previous sold out gatherings like “Beads n Buds” and “Puff n Paint,” that blend childhood art projects with adult, cannabis-friendly consumption at Sour Milk.

The setup is simple: you pay between $20 to $40 (depending on the event) at Sour Milk. A few days before the event, you can stop by Embarc dispensary off Blackstone Avenue, where $5 gets you a goodie bag filled with four to five cannabis products, together worth about $40 to $50.

Then, you create art with the (not always subtle) haze of weed in the air.

“I want to inspire people to dig deeper within themselves,” she says. “And who’s to say that yours isn’t art? 

For Crouch, the idea is personal. She’s a self-taught artist who independently learned graphic design and discovered how to use digital tools on the iPad to create and sell her artwork.

From a young age, art was an integral part of her life. At 3-years old, her mother would hand her printing paper to keep her occupied. She filled the blank sheets with drawings. 

In school, it  didn’t take long before teachers noticed her talent. They praised her knack for depth and perspective in her drawings, and everyone assumed she’d become an artist. She received art kits every Christmas.

As an older sister to five siblings, she naturally took on the role of guiding them and showing them the ropes. Watching strong female leads in shows like “Lizzie McGuire” she felt like cartoons were challenging gender stereotypes, and had a special connection to those characters, who inspired her to break barriers and stand out.

She dreamed of working on Broadway sets. Adults often pointed her in two distinct directions: work for Disney as an artist or pursue something more conventional. She decided not to go to art school to avoid the financial strain. 

“When you hear Disney, everyone thinks of the old and white audience, while ‘Lizzie McGuire’ screams girl power, strong and independent,” Crouch says. “I’ve always wanted to challenge the idea of what success should look like for a Hispanic woman as she gets older.”

Over time, she developed a broader definition of art and success. 

Fast forward to adulthood, she attended Reedley College from 2015-2016 to study film and fine arts. 

In 2019, she started her online shop, RadThrift95 while living in San Diego, where she had moved to follow her partner at the time for work. But like many, had to move back home when the COVID pandemic hit.

One day in 2020, Crouch visited Sour Milk, which was originally a pop-up shop in a small, vacant space at Ragin Records. The experience sparked her creativity, inspiring her to make nostalgic art, mainly stickers. A year later, she moved back, and started selling her creations at the shop.

She sold stickers inspired by the ’90s cartoons she grew up with—like a Cynthia doll with emo hair from “Rugrats” and Reggie from “Rocket Power,” the girl who held her own alongside the boys.

“I create for the child I was,” she says. “I want 10-year-old me to think I’m sick.”

Now, she has pioneered the area’s first cannabis-friendly community events, with support from Embarc, where she’s worked for a year, and Sour Milk, who trust her to maintain a welcoming, homey vibe.

Her events have brought a “wholesome” vibe to a non-threatening environment, something she felt was missing in places like L.A. and the Bay Area, where cannabis events often feel more commercial or loud. 

“What does a stoner even look like?” she says. “The stigma needs to be reclaimed. Nobody looks different—it’s about who they are, not what they look like.”

What sets Crouch’s events apart is the focus on building a genuine sense of belonging. It’s not just about art projects or cannabis. She regularly asks what you’d like to see, and one common response is, “I didn’t know this could be a thing.”

“It’s about keeping the dream alive, seeing familiar faces, creating a space where people feel cared for, and proving that the community truly matters,” she says. 

Looking ahead, Crouch plans to expand cannabis-art events to other downtown businesses, raising awareness for both the events and local businesses while connecting with different communities.

“You always have to remember where you came from,” she says. “Fresno deserves all the love it can get.”

This is the latest in an ongoing series called “Around Fresnoland” where we’ll profile people fueling our neighborhoods and communities with heart, grit and creativity. Know a person with an interesting backstory? Send them our way to tips@fresnoland.org.

Correction: An earlier version of this article incorrectly identified the “Joints n Junk” event.