One of the questions I find myself asking artists from time to time isn't "What are you working on?" but rather, "When did you stop creating for yourself?" Something I've noticed over the years is that a lot of artists never actually stop creating~ The work still gets made~ The commissions get finished. The client work gets delivered. The social media posts go out. The shop gets updated. The deadlines get met. From the outside, it looks like a thriving creative practice~ Yet when you ask what they're making for themselves, the answer is often silence. Or a laugh. Or a story about a project they've been meaning to get back to for three years. At some point, many creatives begin treating their own interests as optional. Everyone else's project gets a place on the calendar. Their own ideas get whatever time is left over at the end of the day. Which, as most of us know, usually means they get nothing at all. I don't think this happens because people stop caring~ If anything, I think it happens because they're caring for too many things at once. The irony is that the work that first made many of us fall in love with creating was often the work nobody asked for. The strange experiments. The weird ideas. The projects that didn't need a business plan, audience, market, or justification. Just curiosity~ and I love seeing those little sparks and glimmers~ there is something so beautiful in those random one off pieces~ Why did you stop creating for yourself, and what would help you start again?

I’m incredibly honored to be the first guest on Diana Pequeno’s new podcast, Elevated Conversations, launching today~!!! @Diana Pequeno has built a space centered around connection, reflection, growth, and meaningful conversation~ and I’m genuinely excited to see where this journey takes her. She's such a shining light and genuine soul~ ALWAYS bringing laughter and excitement to the table along with wonderful creative ideas and thoughts. If you’ve ever wanted deeper conversations around creativity, life, purpose, community, healing, or simply what it means to move through the world as a human being trying their best… I think this is going to become something very special. Congratulations, Diana~!! 🌿 Proud of you for taking the leap and creating something with heart. Go show Elevated Conversations some love today~ ✨ https://www.youtube.com/@liveloveflow And if you're curious about Cre8tiv Collective, pop into our: Our Recommendations class for more information about Diana and the amazing work she does~!

Seems like a simple question~but there’s actually a lot behind it. Some artists sign everything. Some never do. Some hide it. Some make it part of the composition. And here's the thing~ None of these are wrong. Signing your work is part authorship, part presentation. A signature can: • Claim the work as yours • Build recognition over time • Become part of your visual language But it can also: • Distract from the piece if it’s too loud • Break immersion if it’s placed without intention • Feel unnecessary, especially in studies or sketch work There’s also the question of where and how: Front vs back Full name vs initials vs symbolIntegrated vs separate Visible vs subtle Traditionally, many artists signed on the front. Others reserved signatures for the back, especially for more minimal or contemporary work. In digital spaces, this shifts again~ watermarks, captions, logo, embedded signatures. At the end of the day, it comes down to intention. Is your signature: • Serving the piece? • Supporting your identity as an artist? • Or just there out of habit? There’s no single rule~ but there is awareness. Curious where everyone lands on this—Do you sign your work? Where and how? 👇

Lifestyle photos matter more than you think. Not because they’re “pretty.” But because they answer a question your audience is already asking: “Where does this fit in my life?” A bookmark on a desk is a product. A bookmark inside a well-loved book, next to morning light and a cup of tea~ or dried flowers~ that’s a moment. That’s connection. You don’t need a full studio setup to do this well. Start simple: • Natural light (window > overhead lighting) • Real environments (your desk, your studio, your home) • Objects that support~ not distract • Let the work stay the focus Think in scenes, not just shots. Where would someone actually use this? What does it feel like to hold, use, or live with your work? Lifestyle photos aren’t about perfection. They’re about context. And context builds trust. If you’re up for it~ (no pressure) share one lifestyle shot below 👇 (or your first attempt—we’re building this together) Thank you @Christopher Foster for taking these~! They turned out great~!

Whos in?