New Site, No Shop — Am I a Real Artist™?
You’ve found my new website. It’s simpler, easier to manage and filled with more of my brain, neatly offloaded into little paragraphs.
When I started working with another Real Artist to redesign and rebuild the whole thing for me (if you like what you see, click his name: Linus) I did what any sensible artist does in the middle of an overhaul: I spiraled out of control about whether I’m a real artist or not.
Not in the “do I create meaningful work?” kind of way (we’ll save that for later I’m sure). But in the “should I have an online store?” kind of way. You know, what “successful” people have. Buy Now buttons and product variants and maybe a very professional Shipping & Returns policy written in Helvetica.
Because somewhere along the line (thanks, capitalism), I internalised the idea that selling your work is what makes you legitimate. No shop, no checkout button = just a guy with a camera and some feelings about nature.
And I wanted to feel professional. And to feel professional I had to be seen as professional. I wanted the validation of aesthetic legitimacy.
The realisation started with money and trying to be smarter about what I was spending. Culling things I wasn’t really using, like that streaming service I only use for one program I almost never watch anyways. And the expensive Webflow subscription my previous website was hosted on. Does it really need to cost that much? Do I need the ecommerce plan?
That’s when I had to stop and face some hard thoughts. Because the deeper I dug, the more obvious it became: the shop wasn’t about sales. It was about feeling professional. It made me feel like a Real Artist™.
But what was it actually maintaining?
An illusion.
Most of my income comes from services I offer in the small town I live in (Nhulunbuy). When someone wants a print, they message me. When someone’s curious, they ask. It’s less automated, more human, and more honest to how I actually work and none of it actually requires an online shopfront.
So, when I can beat the little voice of capitalism back into its cage (it does not go without a fight!) What makes me feel like a real artist?
It's the impulse to make something out of noticing the everyday things around me. The ache to try and share the beauty I see with anyone who will look – and hope they see it, feel it, too.
So, without further ado, welcome. Have a look around. Ask questions if you have any. And if you do want a print, reach out. But most of all, I just really hope you enjoy your little moment here. Thanks for visiting.
