how i share my work as an introverted artist

 

it took me many years of sharing my work on the internet — often haphazardly and inconsistently — before I found a minimalist practice that felt truly nourishing, rather than depleting.

all the “shoulds” I let go of

for me, this was a bit of a radical process, and it started with a detox. right around the beginning of the pandemic, I stopped using social media. I stopped checking my phone in the mornings. I stopped consuming a feed of “inspiring” things. I stopped being in the crowded pond of other people, many of them performing their lives and successes for the world.

instead, I focused on the question:

how can I be fully present with my art,
and share it in a way that nourishes me?

I withdrew my energy from digital spaces that pulled me away from my center; places where I felt disconnected from the core of myself.

I let go of the nagging idea that I needed to “send more cold emails” or “post xx times on Instagram per week” or “outreach to this or that person / organization / opportunity.”

I let go of my expectations — of what I needed to do, in order to be deserving of success.

I let go of FOMO — the idea that everything is happening out there, and I had to be out there, to be seen.

I let go of the feeling that I had something to prove, that I needed to check off success metrics to make the journey worth it.

I stopped chasing what’s out there, and instead, I received myself. I created a luxurious sense of spaciousness for my creative spirit.

I allowed her to take up space.

I gave her infinite space — on my website, which became my world.

my minimalist sharing rituals

in other words, I embraced being a digital hermit.

everyday, I wrote my ideas and made art. I posted them on my website. then, I sent a newsletter about it. that was it.

by retreating from the digital communal ponds of social media, or creative communities — I redirected 100% of my energy into my own world. I attuned myself acutely to what inspired me, what I believed in, and what I wanted to create. I sought out what inspired me — deliberately, and with intention. I shared it in a way that felt aligned with my energy.

to this day, my core rituals are:

  1. Create things, everyday, as much as I can — for the pleasure and satisifaction of creating.

  2. Share it on my website*

  3. Send intimate email letters about it, as if written to an friend.


(*in addition to form-specific platforms, like podcast or videos)

in other words, I do less — but I do less things more intensely.


let people find you slowly

I don’t use social media. I don’t do any sort of publicity outreach.

instead, my strategy is this: I create my world, and I wait for people to find it. I wait for them to find me, and resonate — at some deeper level - with the work I do.

this might feel a bit radical, a bit passive, perhaps. it thwarts the urge to be seen by as many people as possible, as quickly as possible. it’s a long game; the labor of love that is growing a whole world.

at first, sharing work on your website might feel like talking to yourself, in your own little hut, alone on a remote island. it’s slow, and unlike the instant gratification of social media, there’s usually no immediate feedback. and it often feels like whispering into a black hole that is the internet. this is why so many people quit.

but let me tell you. it does come back to you.

if you create from your truth, it will be seen.

and most importantly, when it does, it’s always the right people.

the most important thing is to see yourself

it comes back to me — slowly, magically, in tiny emails and notes from strangers, sprinkled here and there. in newsletter sign-ups. in messages of earnesty, gratitude, and recognition.

my way of sharing gives me small, intimate connections — one soul at a time — and for me, each note feels like a gift from the universe. it feels more intimate, true, and significant. I decided that I’d rather have meaningful connections with 100 people, than be half-ignored by 10,000 people.

to me, reorienting my idea of “success” in sharing my work — took some deprogramming and surrender, but now, it feels completely integrated. in some sense, I’ve released the need to be seen, because I see myself.

perhaps the real question I’ll leave you with, then, is this:


how do you wish to be seen?

how can you allow yourself — to see, recognize, and appreciate yourself, and your own work?


see my series on world-building