Think about what made you decide to choose the creative path you’re on.

About what made you decide it was worth pursuing in the first place.

Isn’t that enough?

If we love great art, creations, ideas, worlds, stories, products…

And part of why we love them is the humanity, the connection, the effort, the heart, the care that went into them…

And as human beings we love to see such things unfold in order to build connection and care for those things being built…

Then maybe part of what makes it resonate with people isn’t the finished piece, perfect, manicured, and ready for the world to see.

Maybe part of what makes it resonate is being invited to follow along in the journey, witnessing the ideas, the struggles, the doubt, the ideas that didn’t work.

Maybe we want to see all the bad stuff, so we can celebrate in the good stuff, too.

Perhaps that journey is precisely the thing we need in order to truly appreciate what you’re doing.

Perhaps the bad stuff is part of the good stuff.

Perhaps it’s time to be vulerable, not perfect.

When there are lots of projects going on at once…

And lots of team members who need your feedback…

And lots of reports you need to speak to…

And lots of decisions you need to make…

And lots and lots and lots and lots…

The best way I’ve found to deal with them all, is to slow down your inner voice.

T o s p e a k a l i t t l e b i t s l o w e r i n s i d e .

My inner-voice can be mile-a-minute, if I let it. Flitting from concern to concern, thought to thought, thing to thing, barely finishing one thought before another starts up. Faster, faster, faster.

I’m convinced it’s one of the places that anxiety and stress come from.

But when you slow it down… and give each thought… space… to be…

One word… at a time…

Suddenly…

Things feel calmer. Much, calmer.

As though, there’s space… and time… for all of the things… to take, their turn…

And somehow… it all… gets done.

Try it sometime.

AI wins on speed, and average output.

Machines will always win those metrics.

So don’t compete on those metrics.

And don’t seek customers who shop based on those metrics.

Brands invest in UGC, CSR, influence, all sorts of things.

Every one comes with a huge list of to-dos, best practices, and gurus who reportedly know best.

But what’s it all for?

Likeability and trust.

It’s for likeability and trust.

Why not just focus on that, instead, and let the rest come along for the ride?

Talent is a dangerous word.

We might hear it and think, “we have some, others have more, so therefore they’re better than I am”.

But if you’re a video game character, ‘Talent’ isn’t a stat. ‘Skill’ is a stat.

‘Talent’ is the starting balance of ‘Skill’ that your character comes with.

Characters starting without a starting balance, can outpace those who did, by training their ‘Skill’ stat.

Outside of sport, this is true for most people, at most levels of play.

You are entirely, fully, completely capable.

You always have been.

It’s hard to say at times like this.

But I maintain it’s worth being a “hopeless optimist”.

“Hopeless”: You don’t hold out hope that the optimistic point of view will necessarily be correct, or that things will somehow turn out better because you thought that way.

“Optimist”: You try to see the good in the things around you, even if there is also bad, and try to show support towards the good parts in case it helps them overcome the bad.

For example. The current UK government is busy trying to chip away at any good person’s relative use case for freedom of speech. But the hopeless optimistic view is, the current government is doing that, but that’s not to say the next will.

Another example. I supported a whole bunch of artists who sold NFTs around 2020–2021. Not because I thought it was going to be a “big money play”, but because I believe in artists. Some were grifters, others were trying to make art and got labeled as grifters by grifters. The hopeless optimistic view is, supporting artists, if you can, is a good idea anyway.

Know what you believe, know what you value, then try the “hopeless optimist” hat on.

If nothing else, it’s better for your blood pressure.

Not every project needs to be successful.

No good person would expect that of you.

But a good person might expect you to:

1: Stand by your work. If you release something into the world, let it be something you’re proud of. I try not to ship anything I’m not truly happy with, even if it means a few uncomfortable conversations with other contributors. Those contributors, the recipients, and myself, all deserve the opportunity to fill their days experiencing great works.

2: Do right by those who trust you. I’ve had projects fail before, and the first thing I try to do is do right by those who trusted me, as best as I’m able. To a good person, that’s just as valuable as if the project was a success, and builds their trust in you even more.

3: Do 1 and 2 without waivering. We can waiver on a great many things. Confidence. Energy. Skill. Mood. Hope. I’ve waivered on them all and more, too. But so long as we still stand by our work and do right by those who trust us, we can go again tomorrow.

How will our loved ones remember us when we’re gone?

It’s something that has been on my mind lately. A lot.

Money? Nah. We won’t be remembered for now much cash we made.

Time spent working? Nope. That time was lost to those we love.

Home? A bit. But the memories we made together, not market price.

Accolades? Not really. Loved ones won’t care what the others thought.

Writing? Totally. It captures our minds, so loved ones can still experience us.

Creations we’re proud of? Totally. It’s something loved ones can enjoy when we’re gone.

Phone-free fully-focused family time? Totally. This is what they’ll remember most of all.

Puts things into perspective.

Worth building your priority list around.

“Thanks for asking! I’m honored you thought of me, but I don’t have the capacity to take this on right now. I’m currently deeply focused on some existing projects, but do ask me again later in case the timing works out better then!”

This is an email template.

Try making a version similar to this, but in your own voice. No + gratitude + explanation + invitation.

With that stored for easy use, you’ll be better equipped to focus on the things that matter most for you, without slipping into polite “Yesses” that you didn’t really mean.

Time’s finite, protect that focus.

Some storyboarders are using AI specifically to come up with more ideas, faster.

Some storyboarders are practicing their craft specifically to come up with more ideas, faster.

They’re both faster.

One of them is smarter, more skilled, more committed to their craft, and more likely to create stories no one has seen before.

The other is de-skilling, more committed to ease than quality, and more likely to rehash the median of what came before.

The same is true in so many industries at the moment.

Fascinating to watch!

I’ve used Adobe products since 2002. I’m far from their biggest fan.

But they taught me something when I last visited their homepage.

When listing their verticals, they detailed “Creativity and design” as their first one.

Makes sense.

Followed by “Content creation”.

Huh. (Then PDFs and all that other stuff they do.)

Creativity and design. Totally different to — and not to be confused with — content creation.

For “Creativity and design”, they describe industry-leading apps for design, photo, video, and… “creative AI” (whatever that means).

Then, for “Content creation”, they describe how you can “quickly” create and edit images with “creative AI”, “easily”.

The former is focused on using top tools to do great work (with occasional slop).

The latter is focused on prioritizing fast, easy slop (without a creative bone in your body required).

The lesson I learned: Don’t think of “content” as “creativity”. Don’t think of “content” as the discipline of creating things that matter for people who care. Think of it as empty banalities offered at the altar of algorithms, designed to direct your attention toward those who didn’t earn it.

Duly noted, Adobe.

Some brands use marketing to “capture” us.

They snag our emails and phone numbers, harassing us with their “earned attention” like we owe them something. They make you comfortable then jack up the prices because, well, you’re “captured”.

Other brands use marketing to “contribute” to us.

They send goodies to our emails if we want them, and create experiences so valuable we spread the word like we owe them something. They make you feel comfortable and don’t break their promises.

There’s usually a choice, in most markets.

Vote with your wallet.

Recently I’ve been thumbing through artist profiles on Discord.

There are channels dedicated to folks posting their creations, often nervously so, in hope that someone likes them.

They’re often from junior or young talent, working on their craft, hoping someone cares.

They’re often missing one or two key lessons that will unlock a whole new level of skill.

It’s a joy to leave encouraging words. To let folks feel seen. And to message some of them if I think they’re close enough to take on a project for me, with a little training.

If you see someone trying…

Whether it’s an artist in a café or online… a musician on the street or on YouTube… whatever they’re doing… compliment them. Ask to see or hear more. Ask where you can follow along online. Show care. Show them they’re not invisible.

It means more to almost every single one I’ve spoken to than you’d ever think.

Try it. It’s as good for your soul as it is for theirs.

People seem to follow one of two things.

Internet celebrities, hustlers and tech-bros? Many of them follow the money, making and saying whatever must be made or said to increase their share.

Artists, writers, and other creatives? Many of them also follow the money. But others follow their love of their craft, making and saying whatever must be made or said to increase their love for their craft, and the contribution they can make with it.

It’s not usually hard to tell what a person follows. Spend a few moments talking with them and your gut will probably know.

We can’t really fully avoid the former. There are too many of them, powering too much of our infrastructure, to avoid them.

But we can certainly seek out the latter. And support them with our attention, our support, and our dollars. Because with enough support, they’ll be unavoidable, too.

In rooms full of businessfolk, they tend to compare based on valuations and net worths. Numbers.

In rooms full of artists and writers, they tend to compare based on tenure and experience in their craft. Time spent with the craft.

If you don’t enjoy the conversations or comparisons, it could be the green eyed monster… Or it could simply be that you’re in the wrong room.

Public speakers memorize their talks so they can repeat it to others.

Storytellers tell stories others remember so they’ll repeat it to others.

There’s room for both in this world.

But if you have the opportunity, try to be the latter.

If you fit in and look like the others, you lose.

If you stand out and look very different, you might also lose… or you might win.

Which is it to be, friends?

The “savvy entrepreneur” tries to do less.

The “passionate artist” tries to contribute more.

I know which I’d rather be, and work with.

Making products is basically just this:

1: Find a problem
2: Make a promise
3: Keep the promise

It’s only three steps. Try not to skip them.

I can tell when my focus is way off.

There are certain activities that give you—or your work—life.

(Bonus points if you’ve optimized life to where they’re the same thing!)

…And then there’s everything else.

Here are 3 questions that put my focus back on track:

1: What are those activities, again?

2: Do they make up a good chunk of every day?

3: If not, what am I going to do about it?

I’m doing a painting for my wife’s birthday.

(Hopefully she doesn’t read this before her birthday!)

Why?

Because art requires love, care, commitment, patience, and time.

Those are all more important things than the spending of money.

I don’t know why this didn’t occur to me sooner.

When you truly care, engage in the exchange of love, care, commitment, patience, and time.

When you don’t, well, there’s always money.

I own more art books than I’ve read (time!)

And I keep on buying them.

Silly or smart?

I argue smart. Because spending $10–20 here and there to signal to your subconscious how much you value your craft is smart.

It’s watching, and it influences your behavior based on what it understands about you, so show it what you’re all about.

I give art and design feedback every single day, as part of my work.

And I wondered what it’d be like if I didn’t. Do I actually like it?

So I went to Discord and left feedback in channels designed for artists to request feedback, and left some. Not work-related at all, just unsolicited feedback in places where people were looking for some.

Some were really, really grateful for the input. To be seen. To be invested in.

I love how it feels to help others, in areas related to my craft.

That right there is the litmus test: is it still enjoyable when you do it for nothing?

Great client services require you saying “No” sometimes.

Not to be a jerk, or to wring them for more cash.

But to protect them from themselves.

A wonderful service that does one thing really well, bent out of shape to satiate an individual’s needs, is no longer a wonderful service. All the magic and promise was removed.

And for what, to avoid a difficult conversation that could guide them to a greater impact? Or to make sure you don’t miss out on an extra suboptimal buck that leads them nowhere?

Doesn’t sound like great client services to me.

Sony discontinuing physical media isn’t a war on physical media.

It’s a war on customer happiness.

They invariably saw the outcries when Microsoft made the same decision, and followed anyway.

I’m sure there’s a financial motivation behind the decision, and I don’t fault businesses for wanting to be profitable.

I’m just not sure that going to war with customer happiness is the best path to achieve that goal.

The problem with when people “fake it until they make it”…

Is the “it” never truly happens because you’re so distracted.

Convincingly pretending to lead a successful project takes as much time as leading a real one.

Convincingly pretending to have skills you don’t takes as much time as building the real skills.

Convincingly pretending to have domain authority takes as much time as actually knowing your stuff.

So why mess around faking anything?

Why not just do the thing?

Art is supposed to be hard.

The blank canvas you’re writing your script in? Figuring out how to assemble those ideas? That’s supposed to be hard.

The storyboard you’re working on, where you could take a hundred different directions? That’s supposed to be hard.

The song you’re working on, where you could go many different ways with it? That’s supposed to be hard.

Yes, AI can “help” with those things. It can make art easy, removing the tension and friction you feel with the world around you, from the intuition you bring to the creative process, and from the journey from here to having work worth talking about.

And that’s what people want to see: work worth talking about.

But is it still worth talking about? “The computer did it”?

Is that the story you wanted to share? Or is it just a story a little bit like the remarkable, touching, inspiring, conversational piece you might have shared if you’d done the hard work?

Google isn’t sending as many clicks anymore.

The shift to “zero click search” means many formerly-popular indie sites are losing up to 58% of their traffic since early 2024.

That’s over half in less than two years.

That stinks. The web thrives on open, decentralized effort from enthusiasts. It decays in closed, walled-gardens from corporations.

The only lesson to be learned here is, don’t trust the corporation to do the work of enthusiasts, and don’t expect the enthusiast’s work to look like the corporation’s.

Support your enthusiasts. Remember how your browser bookmarks work. Show ‘em some love. They won’t know you’re there rooting for them unless you show them.

Hasbro, who owns Peppa Pig, is under fire.

Their latest contracts require child voice actors to sign away rights for the company to use their recordings and likeness to train AI for the purpose of voice reproduction.

Which not only threatens their gig with Hasbro, but threatens their future career as voice actors, while asking them to agree to things they can’t possibly understand at that age.

I get it. Voice actors aren’t cheap. I pay voice actors all the time.

But here’s the thing.

I love paying voice actors. Whenever I send payment, I feel good. They’re making something awesome with me, and they’re getting to do that for a living. We get to do this again, as soon as possible.

When there’s an actor I really like, and I don’t have lines for them for a while, I feel bad — I want to give them more, so we can make more cool things together.

Paying nice people to do what they love and create awesome things together is a privilege. Not a burden.

If it’s a burden to you, the answer isn’t to try and AI-slop your way to a cheaper alternative. It’s to get into a different profession, and make room for those for whom this would be their dream, too.

Support those who collaborate gladly.

Withdraw support from those who try to short-change hard-working talent.

They may listen if the message is received in dollar form.