Artist>Content Creator

At what point did being an artist stop being enough? When did the art I create—my work—no longer stand on its own, and I was expected to be something more? A brand. A storyteller. A content creator.

There was a time when I thought my art could simply speak for itself. I believed that if I created something meaningful, it would reach the right people. But that isn’t the world we live in anymore. The art is no longer just the work—it’s everything around it. The posts, the images, the captions, the timing, the algorithms. Suddenly, I found myself not just creating, but curating a life, a persona, a brand.

For a while, I embraced this duality. I posted. I shared. I marketed. But somewhere along the way, I lost the essence of what I was doing. My art became secondary to the noise that surrounded it. The pressure to constantly engage, to feed the ever-hungry digital beast, took away the space I needed to breathe as an artist. The endless cycle of creating content for the sake of content felt like a betrayal to my work, a distortion of the quiet, meditative act of creation.

It wasn’t until I stepped back that I realized the one thing I had been forgetting: my art is my voice. But it’s also a part of a larger conversation—one that involves how I share it with the world. My art doesn’t just stand alone in a vacuum; it exists in a space where visibility matters. The persona, the marketing, the narrative—all of these are extensions of the art itself. They amplify the message. They make it reach further. I don’t have to justify or perform for my work, but I do believe that how it’s presented matters. So I stopped trying to be everything at once and focused on just being an artist who understands that the work and the artist behind it are equally important.

But it’s not always easy to hold onto that. The world expects more. It demands engagement. It rewards visibility. And sometimes, the content creator within me feels a little too loud, a little too demanding. But I’ve learned that I can create without getting lost in the digital noise. I can still share when it feels right, without it feeling forced. I’ve embraced that the content is part of the process—an important tool in amplifying the work. But the key is knowing when to step back, when to focus on the work itself, and when to let the persona take over. It’s about balance, not compromise.

I am both the artist and the content creator. But it’s not a simple equation. It’s a balancing act. The content creator wants to show up, to make noise, to be seen. The artist wants to retreat, to create in solitude, to let the work speak without distraction. And sometimes, they feel at odds with one another. But the truth is, they’re not separate. They coexist—when I choose for them to. The art is always at the core. The content is just the channel through which it flows.