I’ve never bought into the idea that visual artists need a large subscriber list or a massive social media following. That’s contrary to the common wisdom some artists believe and many art marketing experts promote. Maybe they know something I don’t, but I doubt it.

There is math that contradicts the concept of large lists and, even more importantly, the reality of most artists’ lives. The math is based on the plausible rule of thumb that artists who primarily sell original art might produce 1,000 originals during their careers. That’s 33 originals annually for 30 years. If you start late, create slowly, or are unusually prolific, your mileage will vary, but 1,000 is a number we can work with.

Regardless of how much art you create, you don’t have the time or resources to find a new buyer for every piece. Neither do most galleries. Maybe huge lists and thousands of followers fix that problem, but how many artists do you know—or even know about—who have both? And how many everyday Main Street artists, who make up the large majority, have the time, money, or desire to work nearly full-time marketing their work?

The math and reality don’t line up for most artists. So, what should you do? Start with a realistic perspective. What are you capable of doing? What are you willing to do? What do your circumstances allow? You can spend a lot of time answering those questions, but even a simple understanding is better than hoping, wondering, or bouncing from one plan to another because nothing seems to work.

Maybe you can make 33 originals a year, but you don’t have to set a goal of selling them all. Or maybe you make fewer and spend more time on them. You can take older or dated pieces you know will be difficult to sell, remove them from their stretcher bars, inventory them, roll them, and store them in tubes. Find some way to solve the storage problem so you can stop worrying about every piece and concentrate on selling your best work with the most commercial potential.

When you remove the pressure to sell everything you make, life gets simpler. Suddenly, you don’t need a huge audience. You need a warm list of connections that matter. Not all connections are the same. They begin with one-way connections, where someone knows about you, but you don’t know them. That’s what happens when social media, advertising, publicity, or word of mouth kicks in.

These are people on your email list, social media followers, someone who passed through your booth at a show, or somebody who watched one of your 15-second reels. You need those people because you can’t make warm connections without first making one-way connections. But followers alone are less likely to provide the personal familiarity and confidence that help sell original art, especially at higher prices.

The next level is where you know someone, and they know you. Better still, you’ve had some personal interaction. At the bare minimum, you may have exchanged emails because you reached out to thank them for something they do in the community, or found another natural way to get on their radar.

The possibilities and angles are limited only by your imagination. Maybe you met at a cultural event and introduced yourself. In those situations, you don’t blurt out everything you know and say, “I’m an artist. Can I come show you my work?” You make the connection.

It’s no different from developing a potential friendship. The relationship evolves.

You pass through stages of familiarity, mutual respect, and sometimes genuine affection. Of course, not every relationship turns into a friendship, nor does every casual encounter turn into a longtime supporter who buys multiple pieces.

It’s natural that some connections will develop in ways you could not have seen when they began. Because time and energy are finite resources, you can’t afford to make connections indiscriminately.

Two kinds of people are especially valuable for you to know. As such, it makes sense to focus your efforts on becoming known to people who have the means to buy original artwork.

Census Bureau statistics show that about one in ten U.S. households earns $250,000 or more annually. But you want more filters to further narrow your ideal client, and this is a good start. Your income doesn’t need to match theirs for you to find ways to intersect your life with theirs. You only need some shared interest to give the connection a reason to begin.

Sometimes, your artwork provides that interest. If you are a wildlife artist, you might get involved with the Nature Conservancy or another conservation organization. If you’re a marine artist, you probably already share similar interests with boat owners. Or perhaps you create work based on local subject matter, which gives you a natural reason to engage with people and organizations that care about your community.

The other valuable connections are people who may never buy your art but know others who might. They might be a center of influence who knows everyone and who also enjoys bringing people together. Other examples are designers, framers, community leaders, event organizers, business owners, and arts supporters.

One well-connected advocate who likes you and believes in your work can be worth more than thousands of passive followers. Is making these connections a chore, and can it be hard sometimes? Of course. But so is nearly everything else you can do to get your work to market.

A good first step is to identify what is distinctive about your art and spend time considering which people are most likely to respond to it. It’s not precise scientific research. It’s a mix of your instincts and sharpened awareness. You want to figure out where people who seem like your top prospects spend their time and what they care about. Then use your creativity and imagination to envision how your life might naturally intersect with theirs.

Making intentional connections is an iterative process. You chip away at it a little at a time. Make it part of your everyday life; find time to incorporate it along with whatever else you’re doing. You might be running a Meta advertising campaign, participating in shows, sending emails, or using other marketing channels. Don’t let any of that keep you from thinking about individual people you would like to know and finding appropriate ways to connect with them. It’s human nature that the things you think about are the things that get done.

Even 10 or 20 minutes a day spent thinking about intentional connections and following up can pay off. Write an email. Send a handwritten note. Make a call. Join a club. Volunteer your time. Attend an event where you have a real reason to be there.

It begins as a mindset. You decide that being purposeful about making meaningful connections makes sense and is worth the effort. Then you accept that it is a long game in which patience and persistence become your greatest allies.

And this is where the math begins to work in your favor. You don’t need to find 1,000 different buyers to sell 1,000 works. Some collectors will buy multiple pieces for themselves or even as gifts. And others will refer you to contacts who become buyers, or they may introduce you to people who can influence your career in ways you can’t imagine. Connections like these will likely continue supporting your work throughout your career.

But it isn’t only the math that works out. I contend that your satisfaction with being an artist works out, too, because the value of these relationships extends beyond making a sale. There is something meaningful in knowing your work made an impression on someone’s life, or that a piece was given to someone who loved it. When you know who those people are and they tell you what your work means to them, you can’t put a price tag on that.

Years ago, I saw an extraordinary painting my mother had made and given to relatives decades earlier. It had become an heirloom passed through generations, and I had never seen it. I offered to buy it from my cousins for its full independent appraisal value. They told me no price would interest them and flatly turned me down. To them, it had become part of their family history and meant as much to them as it did to me.

I wish my mother could have known how much that painting meant to them.

See you next week.

— Barney

Announcing the Inaugural Older Artist Get Together in Phoenix!

Many of you know I also publish the weekly Older Artist blog on Substack. This week’s post includes an invitation to join me and fellow artists for a lunch date. It will be casual. No agenda, just fellow artists sharing a few minutes with each other. The date is September 23 at 11:00 AM. Since this is the first, I don’t know how many will show. If you can come, please reply so I can get a count and then find a place. I’m thinking of O.S.H.O Brewery - Paradise Valley on Tatum & Shea, near the 51.

Encouraging signs are emerging in the part of the art market where most independent artists do business.

New research shows younger collectors entering the market, strong interest in emerging artists, and substantial demand for work priced below $5,000. Open studios and major art festivals continue to generate meaningful sales, while evidence from one of the country’s largest studio tours reinforces the long-term value of turning first-time buyers into repeat collectors.

There are other developments worth watching. Saatchi Art is introducing paid placement for artists, while a small South Carolina town shows what can happen when art and artists become part of a larger economic development strategy.

Read more

Once you start looking for advice about art marketing and the art business, the firehose of information gets turned on. You quickly realize everybody has a plan or formula, and they’re eager to share it with you. All that well-intended advice can become overwhelming, especially when it concerns something important but incidental to being an artist.

I know. I’m one of those people.

I’ve been writing weekly blog posts for artists for more than 20 years. Most of my nine books on art marketing start with or include “how to” in the title. And if they don’t say it specifically, it’s inferred.

Maybe it’s the privilege of getting older that I seem to be getting wiser. There’s an old line attributed to Mark Twain about how his father was a complete fool when Twain was young and how smart his father had become by the time Twain turned 21. I may be butchering the story, but you get the point.

What I’m finding at age 78 is that I feel wiser because I’ve become more informed and gained experience. And one of my wisest revelations is that I’ve come around to thinking that everything starts with you.

Whatever success you attain begins with you. It begins as the seed of an idea that grows into a vision, turns into action, creates momentum, and puts you into the marketplace, where you have a chance to fulfill your dreams, whatever they might be.

Some people get lucky. Through kismet, things start clicking. People show up, systems arrive, and it all seems magical, particularly when viewed from the outside.

My reality is that it never happened for me. And it didn’t happen for nearly any artist I ever met. The ones whose success was noticeable to others did it through skill and hard work. It included a little luck, a great deal of talent, and a lot of perseverance.

But what I really want to talk to you about is this:

What’s your take on your art business?

It’s a challenge to question yourself, beginning with something that seems elemental. I’ve long said that everything good that happens in an art career begins with a conversation.

That includes getting into a gallery, negotiating for a better booth at a fine art show, getting a grant, getting into a school, reaching out to a docent, developing relationships with influencers, and, most importantly, developing relationships with collectors—the people who may buy multiple pieces of your work and refer your art to others over the course of your career.

Every one of those encounters and relationships requires conversation.

But the longer I thought about it, the more I realized that I was jumping into the middle of the stream, even though it seemed like the beginning. And it is the beginning, to a degree. But there is something before it.

I recently wrote a post for Older Artists called “The Thing Beneath the Thing.” It came from my penchant for wanting to understand the why and look beneath what’s going on.

I’ve always felt that if you can deconstruct what happened, you can understand it better. As you begin to understand what truly motivates you first and others second, you find ways to apply those insights in your life or business.

That tendency to be curious about the thing beneath the thing has helped me understand myself and other people. For example, when I see someone acting in their own best interest in a way that also serves others, I wonder why. How did that happen? What motivated them? Where did it come from?

Sometimes I file the insights away, but more often I wonder how I can model that to make myself a better person, a better artist, a more competent marketer, or all three.

And it inspires me to encourage you to think about the thing beneath the thing before you engage in marketing, and to remember that the first conversation begins with yourself.

That’s why I’m asking: What’s your take on your art business?

There are probably many other ways to ask the same question. Some would sound more polished. But I prefer to be blunt sometimes and write the way I think rather than worry about making everything grammatically perfect or precise.

The question gets to the point. It’s also open-ended because I don’t want to guide your answer. I want you to take the question and think about it for yourself. Here’s a method that can help you.

If you use an AI tool for brainstorming, as I do, sit somewhere quiet, turn on the microphone, and give it an unfiltered answer. Just start talking. It’s just you and a machine, and you can express yourself freely about your take on your art business without feeling judged. More likely, you’ll get useful feedback and never get the blank, trapped look because you’re bringing up the same topic and want to go deeper into it.

This process works for me. That is, speaking instead of typing because it lets my mind keep pace with my thoughts, and good things often come from it. When I’m finished, I have my words in front of me and a conversation ready to begin. It’s often a raw brain dump that contains nuggets sprung from my subconscious.

Whatever you say may lead you to something useful and valuable, and often a new perspective on something that might not have even been what you had in mind when you began. Saying what you really think without a filter or concern over anyone’s opinion is a way to understand yourself.

The idea is to open your mind to your own possibilities and perhaps expose some preferences and assumptions you’ve inherited that aren’t actually yours. One of the biggest problems artists face is trying to perform to someone else’s standards.

You read one of my how-to articles—or somebody else’s—and it tells you the key to freedom is building an email list, blogging, using social media, or whatever else the author recommends.

All that stuff can work. It can all be useful, but it needs context.

I wrote my bestselling Guerrilla Marketing for Artists more than 15 years ago, and nearly every one of its close to 20 chapters describes something you can do to improve your art business: networking, promotions, publicity, self-promotion, email marketing, direct marketing, gallery marketing, website marketing, and social media.

Just reading that list is enough to make anybody crazy. How are you supposed to manage all of it?

And if you don’t have a firm grasp on what you’re trying to achieve, it gets worse. You’re using a shotgun when the job requires a rifle, especially if you’re trying to market your work directly to buyers and collectors.

You don’t have time to find a new buyer for every piece of art you want to sell. And you don’t have the time or resources to mass-market to strangers, hoping the right buyers eventually enter your circle of influence.

There has to be something better.

And that brings us back to relationships and conversations. They start with you and then emanate outward. Once you have a clearer understanding of your own take on your art business, you can begin thinking about how to have conversations with people who are likely to appreciate what you do or who are simply worth knowing.

We’re going to talk much more about this in upcoming issues of Art Marketing News. I’m working on something new around these ideas, and I’m excited to see where it goes.

See you next week.

— Barney

PS: If you missed last week’s post, it introduced the Art Business Brief, which offers details and insights worth knowing.

Announcing the Inaugural Older Artist Get Together in Phoenix!

Many of you know I also publish the weekly Older Artist blog on Substack. This week’s post includes an invitation to join me and fellow artists for a lunch date. It will be casual. No agenda, just fellow artists sharing a few minutes with each other. The date is September 23 at 11:00 AM. Since this is the first, I don’t know how many will show. If you can come, please reply so I can get a count and then find a place. I’m thinking of O.S.H.O Brewery - Paradise Valley on Tatum & Shea, near the 51.

Welcome to the first edition of the Art Business Brief. I’m making this one free to all, even though future reports will be an exclusive benefit for paid Art Marketing News subscribers.

I’ve always believed that artists derive great value from becoming students of the business of art. With a deeper understanding of the environment you work in, you make better decisions and, more importantly, see new opportunities or avoid “gotcha” traps.

Recently, I began using ChatGPT Work to do the kind of research for me that used to take hours of internet searching and drilling down into links and topics I felt were useful to know and understand. The idea is to identify developments worth knowing about and explain why they may matter to independent visual artists.

Unlike headline news that covers the top end of the market with celebrity artists and high-end art affairs, the Art Business Brief is an AI-assisted project that searches widely for topics, events, and news affecting Main Street artists.

I defined the brief’s purpose and identified markets and sources worth monitoring that rarely surface when you ask, “What’s happening in the art business today?” I was looking for useful information for the unsung everyday artists who make up most working visual artists, including Art Marketing News subscribers.

The Art Business Brief is a feature for paid subscribers, but I will also make it available to all subscribers occasionally, as with this announcement. Rather than sticking to a set schedule, I’ll publish the brief when I have content worth sharing.

While the Brief below is partially written with AI, my weekly Art Marketing News posts are my writing, sometimes edited with AI assistance. The Art Business Brief is different. It uses AI to monitor, research, organize, and explain more information than I could reasonably cover on my own. I direct the work, review the results, and make the final editorial decisions on content, style, and format.

The Art Business Brief is a new benefit for Art Marketing News’ paid subscribers. Scroll to the bottom for more details on a paid subscription, including a best-price offer good through August 31.

Art Business Brief — Mid-August 2026

News and views for visual artists

1. Square’s offline mode can turn completed-looking sales into no sales

An artist posting on Art Fair Insiders reported accepting 35 offline Square transactions at a Detroit show. After reconnecting, every transaction was declined. According to the artist, the app had collected signatures but did not indicate that the payments would later fail. The artist had no practical way to contact all 35 buyers afterward. This is one artist’s report, not evidence of a system-wide Square failure. [Art Fair Insiders report]

But Square’s own documentation confirms the underlying risk. Offline transactions are stored without the card issuer's authorization. Sellers receive no decline notification until the device reconnects, and Square says sellers are responsible for expired, declined, or disputed offline payments. Square cannot supply customer contact information afterward.

Square automatically enabled offline payments on devices in April 2026 unless account owners opted out. Transactions must be uploaded within 72 hours, although Square strongly recommends reconnecting within 24 hours. Tap to Pay on iPhone and Android do not support offline payments. [Square offline-payment guidance]

Why it matters: Artists selling at outdoor shows regularly encounter weak or overloaded cellular and Wi-Fi service. Offline mode can keep a line moving, but what looks like a completed sale remains unsecured until the payment uploads and clears.

Before the next show, artists using Square should review whether offline payments are enabled, understand which hardware supports them, set an offline transaction limit appropriate to their risk, carry a backup connection or payment option, and reconnect as soon as possible. A signature does not mean the money has been collected.

2. Copyright registration is likely to become more expensive this fall

The U.S. Copyright Office submitted a proposed fee schedule to Congress on July 14, with implementation planned for fall 2026.

For visual artists, the most relevant proposed changes are:

• Standard electronic application: $65-$85.

• Single Application: $45-$55.

• Group registration of up to 20 published two-dimensional artworks: $85 to $130.

• Group registration of up to 10 unpublished works: $85 to $130.

• Group registration of up to 750 photographs: $55 to $85.

The Office initially proposed eliminating the lower-cost Single Application but reversed course after individual creators and industry groups objected. It now plans to retain it with a $10 increase. The Single Application applies only to a narrow category: one work created by one author who is also the sole copyright claimant. [U.S. Copyright Office proposed fee schedule]

Why it matters: Registration remains voluntary, but timely registration can substantially improve an artist’s position if infringement occurs. The higher group-registration fees will particularly affect artists and photographers who register bodies of work periodically.

Artists with completed work already eligible for registration may want to review their plans before the new fees take effect. That doesn't mean rushing an inaccurate application to save money. It means recognizing that delaying a registration you already intend to file could soon cost more.

I’m keeping an eye on the proposed fee increase and will update the AMN Copyright Guide when it takes effect. For now, I’ve opened the Guide to everyone. If this development has you thinking about copyright registration, you can [read the complete Copyright Guide here] through August 30, 2026. After that, it will return to the paid Guides library.

3. Europe’s AI transparency rules are now in force

The EU AI Act’s Article 50 requirements took effect on August 2. Providers must make synthetic output machine-detectable, while certain users must disclose deepfakes and AI-generated material involving matters of public interest. Older systems have until December 2 to meet some technical marking requirements. Penalties can reach €15 million or 3% of worldwide annual revenue. [European Commission explanation]

Why it matters: This does not mean every artist who touches an AI tool must label everything “AI-generated.” But it establishes provenance and disclosure as normal expectations rather than optional courtesies. Marketplaces, social platforms, galleries, and buyers are likely to develop policies influenced by the European standard, including those outside Europe.

4. Some galleries are using collaboration instead of discounting

A recent issue of Art World News reports that independent galleries and frame shops are partnering with wineries, hospitality businesses, corporations, cultural organizations, local retailers, and community groups to attract people who might not otherwise enter a gallery.

Cousen Rose Gallery on Martha’s Vineyard described art-and-wine tastings, author events, corporate receptions, wearable-art presentations, and collaborations with local art walks. Blackfish Gallery, an artist-owned cooperative in Portland, reported increased attendance and sales after opening an exhibition to guest artists. [June 2026 issue of Art World News]

This is trade reporting built partly around individual gallery accounts, not comprehensive market research. Still, the examples are concrete and align with a larger principle: reach new buyers by joining existing communities rather than continually trying to manufacture an audience on your own.

Why it matters: Independent artists can apply the same idea without needing to operate a gallery. A studio event can be paired with a neighborhood business, charity, designer, author, musician, garden group, historical organization, or another artist whose audience complements it. The value comes from bringing relationships together, not merely adding entertainment.

Notably, these galleries are trying to increase traffic and perceived value without training buyers to wait for discounts.

About Paid Membership

The Art Business Brief is a benefit for paid subscribers to Art Marketing News. Paid members also receive full access to the growing AMN Guides library and occasional downloadable resources.

Check out the Perks page for current downloads for paid subscribers.

I’ll occasionally open a Brief or Guide to everyone, as I have today, so free subscribers can see what is available. Paid subscribers have continuing access as part of their subscription.

As these paid benefits expand, I’m also updating the subscription price. The current price is $5 a month or $50 a year. If you subscribe by August 31, you’ll keep that rate for as long as your subscription remains active. After that, new paid subscriptions will be $8 a month or $80 a year.

Upgrade Your Subscription

1. Square’s offline mode can turn completed-looking sales into no sales

An artist posting on Art Fair Insiders reported accepting 35 offline Square transactions at a Detroit show. After reconnecting, every transaction was declined. According to the artist, the app had collected signatures but did not indicate that the p…

Read more

Art licensing provides artists and illustrators the opportunity to earn passive income by agreeing to let their images be used on a wide range of products. Everything from stationery, linens, wallpaper, party supplies, and more. Contracts get you royalties or licensing fees in exchange for granting those rights. For some artists, it can create a new source of passive income. Passive means someone else markets the work, but that doesn’t imply your participation is passive.

I’m writing this to give you a clear perspective to help you decide whether it’s a business you want to pursue. As with many aspects related to creating new income streams from your art, licensing may sound appealing but still not be right for you.

When I entered the art business in 1988, the open-edition print market was booming. Licensing existed, but it wasn’t in the business model of print publishers and self-published artists who used my magazine and shows to get to market. Their marketing included producing print catalogs with thousands of artworks that they sold to new retailers and sent to top buyers like those operating volume framing businesses. And they targeted thousands of retail art galleries, picture frame shops, and mall art stores.

It was fascinating to watch publishers realize licensing’s value as a new revenue stream. It went from incidental to increasingly important as the industry went through wrenching changes. Then the internet made its mark on the industry and licensing’s role changed again. Printed catalogs disappeared. Mall art stores faded away. The publishers that survived reinvented themselves around licensing, print-on-demand, hospitality, healthcare, commercial interiors, and digital production.

The opportunity didn’t disappear. It evolved, and like in the jungle, only the fittest survived. That evolution is why I think artists should begin with a different question than they might have asked twenty-five years ago. Instead of asking, How do I get into licensing? I’d suggest asking, Why do I want to get into licensing in the first place?

For most artists, the appeal is making more money from existing images. That’s a good decision, but it requires more understanding. First, licensing only pays off with multiple contracts, and it can take a couple of years of steady work supplying images before the income is close to desirable. Second, you need to know that you don’t have much control over things. For example, your work may be cropped, or you might get requests to change colors.

Success as a licensed artist requires you to create in a consistent style, be willing to adapt your images for specific products, and create companion pieces, sometimes on spec.

I’ve known artists who built remarkable licensing businesses. In the 1990s to 2000s, coastal artist Paul Brent built a phenomenal print and licensing business. Mary Engelbreit used her whimsical illustrations to create one of the strongest licensing brands of her generation. Bob Timberlake’s limited edition wildlife and rural scenery formed a business model that included extensive home furnishing licenses.

You can find contemporary artists doing the same thing today, although their path looks different than the legacy icons mentioned above. Today’s artists often follow current marketing trends by building their brand before anything else. Licensing then becomes a single aspect of a larger business that may also feature books, public speaking, direct sales, social media, illustration, teaching, and additional revenue streams.

My experience is that artists who succeed in licensing work at it diligently. In other words, it’s not something you can do casually and expect it to be worthwhile. I suggest studying current artists doing well in the licensing business. Spend time learning about licensing agents and how they operate, how they are alike and how they differ. Some are large shops while others are boutiques. Figure out if you are ready for the licensing market and how you think you will fit into it.

If, on the other hand, what you love most is spending your days making the kind of art you like to make without demands on time, consistency, or vision, there’s nothing wrong with that either. Most of the artists I’ve known over the years wanted their time in the studio, not in meetings about product lines, marketing plans, licensing agreements, or brand development. There is no wrong path here; it comes down to being clear on what you want, what you are capable of doing, what you are willing to do, and if your circumstances are favorable to your plans.

Every opportunity comes with an opportunity cost.

If an artist were to ask me today how to invest the next year in building a career, licensing likely wouldn’t top my list of recommendations. Not because there is anything wrong with licensing, but more because it’s a long-tail proposition that should be a third or fourth income source rather than primary or secondary. Get those streams working first, then come back to review if licensing makes sense.
I don’t want to dissuade anyone with genuine interest from pursuing licensing. My aim is simply to ensure you appreciate the level of commitment before you dive in.

After spending nearly four decades around artists, I’ve come to believe that the biggest source of career contentment comes from self-awareness, self-assessment, and self-determination. Don’t pursue things just because you think you can. You may have all it takes, but you may also know that’s not the right choice for you. Chase the opportunities that fit the kind of artist you really want to become.

Evidence proves that licensing works. But does it work for you? That is the question you need to answer.

See you next week.

— Barney

If you’ve been reading Art Marketing News for a while, you may have noticed a shift. In addition to the latest tactics, I’m writing about relationships, self-awareness, and building an art career that fits the person living it. It’s not by design — it matches where my thinking has landed after years spent with a more exclusive focus on teaching artists how to market their work.

I haven’t abandoned art marketing. I still believe artists deserve practical advice that helps them connect with collectors and sell more art. But looking back, I realized that most of what I taught came from the middle of the story rather than from the beginning.

A good deal of my attention focused on what many in the tech world call plumbing. That term describes the infrastructure that helps your work reach other people. Your website. Your newsletter. Your social media, online store, AI tools, payment processors, CRM — every piece of technology you use to run your business. It’s also known as the tech stack.

Plumbing matters because it makes your life easier. But the wrong plumbing creates unnecessary friction. It wastes precious resources of time, money, and energy. If you’ve ever fought a website that refused to cooperate, or fiddled endlessly with something that seems like it should just work and won’t, you know what I mean.

The mistake isn’t having plumbing. The mistake is believing better plumbing automatically creates a better career. Technology, when it meets its potential, improves your marketing capabilities. But it’s only as good as the plan to use it, and it doesn’t create anything.

Before switching a tech service or platform, or adding another component to your tech stack, there are more important questions worth asking.

What kind of creative life do you want?
How much income do you truly need for your life to feel successful?
How much of your week are you willing to devote to marketing?
Which parts of promoting your work energize you, and which ones drain you?
What are your circumstances today — not the circumstances you hope to have someday?

Those questions don’t usually appear in marketing books, yet they determine almost every marketing decision you’ll eventually make.

It is easy to convince yourself you know where you’re going. But do you really? And if you know where you’re going, is it the place you really want to go? The harder question is whether you’re pursuing goals you’ve consciously chosen or goals you’ve inherited. It’s easy to absorb the assumptions of the marketplace without ever questioning them — get more followers, boost your exposure, produce more content. Theoretically, it’s great if you can make it happen and keep it going. Practically, it’s more like a hamster wheel.

Everybody’s different, and you’re different at every stage of your life and career. A simple online portfolio may be all one artist needs. Another may eventually run a website, an online store, a Substack publication, an email marketing service, and more. Neither approach is inherently better. The right plumbing depends on the kind of creative life you’re trying to build, not on what everyone else says an artist should have.

If you’re honest with yourself, you might find what you’re doing isn’t congruent with what you’d actually choose. Maybe it is, and if so, that’s great. But if you find conflict, it’s time to optimize yourself first.

Lewis Carroll is often credited with the observation, “If you don’t know where you’re going, any road will get you there.” Whether that’s the exact wording or not, the principle has stayed with me for years.

Here’s an experiment worth considering, if your circumstances allow it. If you have some breathing room, even for a couple of months, ease off the pressure to make every marketing decision produce an immediate sale. This doesn’t mean to stop marketing; I’m suggesting you stop measuring everything by transactions. Instead, take some time to invest in yourself.

Clarify what you’re truly passionate about building. Pay attention to the collectors and conversations that energize you rather than drain you. Put more effort into meaningful relationships and less into chasing what the algorithm seems to favor right now. Permit yourself to do work that genuinely matters to you, rather than work you hope will perform well online.

While you’re at it, take a friendly peek at your plumbing — your tools and subscriptions. Are you still paying for software you hardly use? Maybe you’ve signed up for several because each expert seemed to recommend just one more tool to solve everything. The goal is to find the right tool — not necessarily the cheapest or the most expensive — that helps you get your work done smoothly, without draining your resources.

Visual artists have an advantage over many other creative professions. You simply don’t need tens of thousands of followers or even thousands of customers. Compared with other arts fields, you need only a relatively small group of loyal collectors who genuinely appreciate your work to sustain a satisfying career for decades. That insight can shift your thinking and actions into solving relationship problems more than marketing problems.

I’ve always found that artists pursue their craft because they truly love creating art, not because they dreamed of joining the business world. Managing a business comes along with the passion — it’s never been the reason for choosing this life.

Somewhere along the way, many of us began serving the marketing instead of letting marketing serve the art. I think it’s time to reverse that order.

Optimize yourself first. Become clearer about the life you’re trying to build. Start cultivating relationships with people who genuinely care about your work. Life’s too short to chase random prospects hoping you connect with the right ones.

That’s the real plumbing job — not building something bigger but building something that fits.

Substack is getting attention from writers, creators, and now artists. Visual artists may wonder if it’s worth their time or just a passing trend.

Substack is only worth your time if it helps you solve a real problem you’re facing right now. It’s not meant to replace a dedicated platform for selling your art.

Before choosing any new tool, clarify the problem you want to solve. The right solution often becomes obvious.

It’s easy to get caught up in the latest trends, but chasing every new thing usually leads to frustration and wasted energy.

Ask yourself what you want to accomplish and what’s standing in your way.

Practical Minimalism Applies to Marketing, Too

I advocate practical minimalism:

Do less. Choose well. Enjoy more.

These ideas guide my approach to marketing and technology. Choosing well means picking tools that fit your needs, not chasing every new platform.

No single platform works for every artist. The best choice is the one that solves your real problem.

What Does Substack Actually Do Well?

Substack is primarily a publishing platform that combines blogging, newsletters, subscriptions, and reader conversations.

If you enjoy writing and want to connect with your audience without technical hassles, Substack is a good option.

Substack isn’t designed for selling artwork. Its strengths differ from those you’d find in an ecommerce platform.

Can Artists Sell Art Through Substack?

Yes, but almost never with Substack alone.

Think of Substack as a place to share your writing and connect—not as your main sales channel. Most artists still need another platform for selling their art.

That’s how some artists are making it work for them.

The real question is whether Substack should be the foundation of your business. For most artists, it isn’t, because its purpose is different.

If your goal is to sell art, use an ecommerce platform like FASO, Shopify, Squarespace, or WordPress with WooCommerce. These tools showcase art, manage inventory, and handle transactions.

Physical venues like galleries and shows still matter, but they have limitations: geography, travel, expense, and time. A website works for you around the clock.

Your ecommerce platform should be the foundation of your online business. Substack can support those efforts by helping you publish and build relationships with your audience.

Two Artists, Two Different Solutions

Here are two standout examples of artists using Substack in different ways.

Illustrator Kim Koehler uses Substack for her newsletter, while her WordPress website is the center of her business and Shopify powers her store. She employs an ambitious tech stack of specialized tools for different jobs.

Substack lets her tell stories and build deeper relationships with readers. For artists who enjoy writing, it can be a natural business companion.

Monica Hebert, on the other hand, uses Substack to explore aging, creativity, and living well. Her art is part of a larger conversation, and Substack anchors her publishing-centered business. She’s a fierce, funny warrior advocate for women over 60. She recently mentioned she’s sold more art from her Substack engagement than before when actively marketing. These sales are a byproduct of her overall publishing efforts.

Both artists use Substack to build community. Neither example uses Substack as an ecommerce platform. When you’re clear about the problem you want to solve, it’s easier to choose the right tool.

Why I Chose Substack

I understand why some assume I moved to Substack because I think it’s the future of online publishing.

The real reason: I wanted to practice practical minimalism.

My business accumulated so many websites, plugins, email systems, and other moving parts that maintenance took more time than the actual work. I also wanted to cut overhead and reduce extra work.

I realized I wanted a simpler business—less time on technology, more time writing, helping artists, and building relationships. And I had reduced my need for a complex ecommerce solution, which further simplified my tech needs.

Substack fit because it matched the problem I wanted to solve.

That doesn’t mean it’s right for everyone. It just made sense for me.

Before You Add Another Platform…

Before you start a Substack or any new platform, take a moment to find a quiet place where you can think without interruption.

Then imagine your life six months from now and then go out twelve months. Can you still see yourself publishing, enjoying it, and finding it meaningful a year from now? Or does it already feel like just another obligation? That’s what I mean by choosing well.

Be honest with yourself about what you’re committing to because when you do, you’ll know if you’re inclined to stick with it. Every platform asks for your time, attention, ideas, and consistency. Any project is only worth launching if you have enough genuine interest to keep going after the initial excitement wears off.

Choosing well means picking the platform your future self will thank you for, because it keeps solving the problem that matters most to you.

So, Is Substack Worth It?

It certainly can be.

Do you love writing, want to use it to build deeper relationships, and enjoy publishing regularly? If so, Substack is one of the best tools available. However, if your main goal is to build a strong online business selling your artwork, I strongly recommend using an ecommerce platform. You can still use Substack if writing genuinely appeals to you. But it will play a supporting role rather than the lead role, since it serves a different purpose.

Practical minimalism is as much about conserving energy and attitude as it is doing less by choosing well. If there is no joy in the doing, it won’t last, and that’s a drag on your psyche and resources.

Whether or not Substack exists in twenty years, the real questions are:

What problem are you trying to solve?
Does this choice help you do less, choose well, and enjoy more?

Whenever you have choices, especially those that involve ongoing commitments of time and resources, ask yourself those questions. That’s how you’ll make better marketing decisions and avoid falling into the trap of chasing the latest trend.

See you next week.

— Barney

We’re halfway through 2026. That makes this a good time to stop for a spell and ask a simple question.

How’s your marketing?

I’m not talking about whether you’ve posted enough on social media, updated your website, or sent your newsletter every week. Those things matter, but they aren’t really what I’m asking.

I’m asking whether your marketing is still helping you build the business you want, or whether you’ve become so busy running it that you’ve lost sight of where you’re trying to go.

If you’re like many artists, the first half of the year has been a blur. You’ve made art, answered emails, shipped orders, entered shows, updated your website, posted when you had something to say, and tried to stay on top of a hundred other details. Somewhere in there you may have taken a vacation, helped with the grandkids, worked around the house, or tried to catch your breath.

That’s life. None of us gets to spend every day thinking strategically about our business. Most of the time we’re just trying to keep things moving.

The problem isn’t that artists don’t know enough about marketing. Most of us already know more than we consistently put into practice. The real challenge is that when you’re inside your business every day, it’s hard to step outside of it and see it clearly. Before long, you’re reacting to whatever needs attention next instead of making deliberate decisions about where you’re headed.

This year hasn’t exactly made that any easier. There’s uncertainty everywhere you look. AI is changing the creative landscape almost weekly. The economy feels unsettled. Collectors seem a little more cautious. You can find endless marketing advice online, but much less agreement about what actually works anymore.

If your plans feel a little less certain than they did in January, I don’t think that’s unusual. I think it’s reality. That’s why I wouldn’t use the middle of the year to reinvent everything. I’d use it to recalibrate. Instead of asking yourself, What should I do next? try asking a different question.

What am I trying to build?

Not what I was trying to build six months ago. Not what someone on YouTube says I should be building. What am I trying to build now?

Maybe the answer hasn’t changed. You still want to grow your collector base, increase sales, and create more consistently. Or maybe something has changed.

Maybe you’re less interested in being everywhere and more interested in being present where it matters. Maybe you’ve noticed that one marketing activity consistently produces opportunities while two or three others mostly produce guilt because you never quite get around to doing them. Maybe you’ve reached the point where you’d rather have a hundred collectors who genuinely care about your work than ten thousand people scrolling past it.

Those aren’t marketing tactics. They’re decisions about the kind of business you want to own.

Over the years, I’ve also changed how I think about being “on brand.” Most people hear that phrase and think about logos, colors, fonts, and taglines. Those things have their place, but that’s not what comes to mind for me anymore.

I think being on brand is really about alignment.

It’s when your art, your business, and your life are all pulling in the same direction. When they are, decisions become easier because you have something to measure them against. You don’t have to chase every new marketing idea because you can recognize which ones fit and which ones don’t. You become more intentional with your time, your energy, and your attention because they all serve the same purpose.

That doesn’t mean you’ll suddenly have all the answers. It doesn’t mean the economy will improve or that selling art will become effortless. It simply means you’re no longer fighting yourself.

Before the second half of the year fills your calendar with more deadlines, more opportunities, and more distractions, spend an hour looking at your business as if it belonged to someone else. Ask yourself whether it’s still headed where you want it to go.

You may come away with a completely new plan.

More likely, you’ll make a few thoughtful adjustments that put everything back into alignment. In my experience, that’s usually enough.

Everything becomes easier when everything is pulling in the same direction.

See you next week.

— Barney

At one point, my email list was around 20,000 subscribers. That’s a good-sized list by many standards for a solo entrepreneur in a niche market. I knew some others marketing to artists whose lists were twice that size or larger, but I wasn’t trying to compete with them. Still, for a solo art marketing publisher and adviser who was also working a full-time job, it was a substantial audience.

By most measures, those numbers were impressive. And to be fair, they mattered. They created opportunities. They helped me sell books, workshops, and courses. They expanded the reach of Art Marketing News and connected me with artists around the world.

But there was another side to those numbers that people rarely talked about.

The Machine Demands Feeding

Large audiences don’t simply exist. They have to be maintained.

There are infrastructure costs. My email marketing service alone eventually cost me close to $2,000 a year. Then there were the other services and software to pay for, content to create, emails to write, social media to manage, search engines to satisfy, algorithms to keep happy, and the endless pressure to remain visible in a world that forgets quickly.

None of this is inherently wrong. Some artists and marketers are exceptionally good at it. Some genuinely enjoy it. They’ve built remarkable businesses this way.

I discovered something about myself. The more energy I devoted to maintaining the machine, the less connected I felt to the reason I started writing to help artists in the first place. That realization didn’t arrive all at once. Looking back, I think I knew it years before I was willing to admit it.

My subconscious mind, the part that knows the real story, quietly guided me to get out of the hustle business while my conscious brain kept trying to play the game. You get out of balance that way until you realize that what works best for you isn’t always aligned with popular art marketing thinking.

The Small but Mighty Idea Was There All Along

Back in 2011, I wrote Guerrilla Marketing for Artists. Its subtitle was How 100 Collectors Can Bulletproof Your Career.

Even then, I understood something that took me years to appreciate fully. Most artists don’t need massive audiences. They need enough meaningful relationships to sustain both their work and the life surrounding it.

The Math Nobody Talks About

There’s a simpler truth underneath that idea. It’s virtually impossible to find a brand-new buyer for every new piece you create. Yet that’s exactly what the myth of more quietly asks us to believe. A huge list is the ticket to selling more art.

Consider a rough estimate. An artist working steadily for thirty years might create around a thousand original works. At first glance, that sounds like a thousand buyers to find.

But what if a hundred collectors each purchased three works over those same decades?

That’s three hundred sales from people who already know you, trust your work, and chose to come back. Add the referrals loyal collectors naturally generate, and the math begins to look very different.

The goal isn’t to find a new stranger for every painting. The goal is to find the right people and give them reasons to stay.

Start With One

That’s how almost every successful art career begins. One collector. One conversation. Leading to one sale.

You make that experience as good as possible. You communicate well. You follow through. You thank them. You learn what mattered to them and carry those lessons into the next relationship.

Over time, efficiency improves. Trust grows. Your reputation grows with it.

For some artists, twenty-five loyal collectors are enough to support the career they want. For others, it might be fifty or a hundred. The number that matters isn’t the one that looks impressive on a dashboard. It’s the one that supports the life you want to live while allowing you to keep making your best work.

A hundred people who genuinely care about your work are worth far more than ten thousand who barely remember your name.

What Simplifying Taught Me

Over the years, I slowly began simplifying my own business. I relied more on evergreen writing and less on chasing trends. I worried less about gaming algorithms and spent more time writing things I believed would still matter years from now.

A recent example reinforced that decision.

Before moving Art Marketing News to Substack, I intentionally removed thousands of cold subscribers from my email list. The list became smaller overnight.

Something unexpected happened. Open and click rates improved. And, more importantly, the number of people who were actually engaged stayed remarkably similar.

A cold subscriber is a little like someone who walks through your gallery without ever slowing down. They’re technically there, but they aren’t really part of what you’re building. I’d rather have a hundred readers who look forward to hearing from me than a thousand who forgot they subscribed.

That experience reminded me of something I probably should have trusted years earlier. Sometimes reducing creates more value than expanding.

Attention Isn’t Connection

Artists are constantly encouraged to pursue more followers, more subscribers, more content, more platforms, and more visibility. But more comes with costs that don’t always appear on a spreadsheet.

The pressure to stay relevant can quietly consume the very energy needed to make meaningful work. Before long, many artists spend more time trying to attract attention than creating the work attention was supposed to support.

Marketing still matters. Visibility still matters. Learning to communicate your value and connect with collectors will always matter. However, I’ve become less interested in building the largest possible audience and far more interested in building the right one.

I’d rather have an audience that opens my emails, replies once in a while, buys more than once, tells a friend, and remembers my name months later.

Those aren’t vanity metrics. They’re relationships. And for a long time, I believed success meant more. I was fully invested in the Myth of More.

These days, I think the better question is whether you already have enough—and whether you’re taking good care of the people who’ve chosen to pay attention in the first place. There’s a certain peace that comes from no longer trying to win the internet.

Instead, you can spend your energy serving the people who’ve already chosen to pay attention while creating work that’s worthy of the trust they’ve placed in you.

Artists often devote a great deal of energy to getting noticed. Social media, website traffic, email lists, art shows, galleries, and advertising all play a role. These things matter, but they come after a more important question—one that rarely gets the attention it deserves.

Why Should Someone Buy Your Art?

At first, the answer seems simple. People buy because they like your art. That’s true, but only part of the story.

If you have spent time at art shows, in galleries, or browsing online, you know there is no shortage of talented artists making beautiful work. Good art is everywhere. If quality alone decided who succeeded, fewer talented artists would be struggling.

The Power of Emotional Connection

The reality is, people buy art for many reasons. The work itself is one, of course. Something about it speaks to them—a place they love, a memory they treasure, or a feeling they want to keep close. Art creates emotional connections. Those connections often lead to a sale.

But the artwork is only part of the story.

Connection to the Artist Matters

People also buy because they feel a connection to the artist. They like knowing who created the work. They enjoy hearing the story behind it and the years of effort that made it possible. Often, they are not just buying an object. They are choosing to support someone whose work and journey they value.

Consider how this plays out. Two artists might paint similar scenes with equal skill. One offers a painting. The other shares why that place matters, what drew them in, or what they hope someone feels when living with the work. The art may look alike, but the experience is different. The story adds value.

You can create that kind of connection, too. But it only happens when people know your story.

Common Mistakes Artists Make

This is where many artists make things harder than they need to be, often without realizing it.

You cannot expect buyers to understand what you have not told them. You also cannot assume they realize that buying your work supports an independent artist. Most people do not know that each piece represents years of learning, or that your story, values, and commitment are part of what they see. These things are not obvious unless you share them.

They aren’t. You need to tell people. Sometimes, you need to show them.

Overcoming the Challenge of Sharing Your Story

This is where many artists get stuck. Talking about yourself can feel uncomfortable. It might seem like bragging or, even worse, like a sales pitch. Most artists would rather let their work speak for itself. That is understandable, but it leaves buyers without the context they need to connect and commit.

Sharing your story is not self-promotion. It is information. It is what turns a buyer who likes your work into someone who feels compelled to own it. You are more interesting than you think. People are drawn to human-interest stories, whether they are learning about artists or anyone else.

Why Stories Matter in Art Sales

When you start to notice, you will see how often stories about people capture our attention. Television producers, journalists, filmmakers, and editors have known this for years. They seek out human-interest stories because they know we are wired to care about people. Art buyers are no different.

Maybe you are a local artist whose work is rooted in your community. Maybe you have built your career on your own, without galleries or agents. Maybe your work comes from a certain landscape, a life experience, or a lifelong fascination. These things may feel ordinary to you because you live with them every day. To the right buyer, they are anything but ordinary.

Buyers rarely say yes for just one reason. They may love the art itself. They may feel good supporting a local artist. They may connect with your story or appreciate knowing their purchase goes directly to a working creator rather than a platform or gallery. These motivations don’t compete; they stack. Each one deepens the sense of meaning behind the purchase.

A simple, well‑placed line can help them recognize that layered value:

“Many of my collectors tell me they enjoy owning my work not only for the beauty of the piece, but because in a world full of mass‑produced goods, they appreciate having something handmade, personal, and one‑of‑a‑kind in their home.”

Where to Share Your Story

Your artist statement is a good place to start, but do not stop there. Your website should show who you are, not just what you sell. When you talk with collectors, let your work lead and let your story follow naturally. You are not giving a pitch. You are having a conversation. The goal is to help people who see your work understand what is behind it.

Finding and Sharing Your Unique Value

Your job is to find the reasons that are true for you and get comfortable sharing them. You are not trying to persuade. You are helping people understand what makes your work worth owning.

Your story, your perspective, your experiences, and your connection to your work are yours alone. No one else can offer them.

Ask yourself: if someone who loved your work described it to a friend, what would you want them to say about you?

Whatever your answer, that is what you should be sharing.

See you next week.

— Barney

Understanding Introversion

Introvert is one of the most misunderstood words in our language. Many people assume introverts are shy, dislike people, or struggle to communicate. That isn’t always the case.

Introverts often enjoy being with others, but they recharge in their own way. They tend to prefer meaningful conversations to small talk, quiet gatherings to large parties, and a handful of close relationships rather than many acquaintances. That is perfectly normal.

Personal Experience with Introversion and Extroversion

I don’t fit neatly into either camp. If you’re familiar with the 16Personalities model, I’m an ENFP, though I think of myself as an ambivert. I can get energized in a crowd once I’m comfortable, and I genuinely enjoy giving talks. But put me in a room where the purpose is “networking,” and I still have to summon the courage to walk through the door.

On the other hand, I also love those late-night hours when the world has gone quiet. That’s when I’ve done some of my best writing. Solitude isn’t something I endure. It’s something I seek because it’s where many of my best ideas are born.

Know Yourself, Use Your Strengths

The goal isn’t to label yourself as an introvert or extrovert. It’s to understand how you are wired and stop comparing yourself to others with different personalities.

Every personality style has strengths. Your task is to recognize your strengths and build your art marketing around them.

The Power of Conversation in Art Marketing

One thing I know after nearly four decades of helping artists market their work is this:

Connections sell art. Conversations create those connections.

Almost every opportunity that moves an art career forward begins with a conversation. It may be with a gallery owner, another artist, a collector, someone at an art fair, a curator, or an influencer who later introduces you to someone else.

The encouraging part is that meaningful conversations are often where introverts excel. Introverts are often excellent listeners. They ask thoughtful questions, show curiosity, and notice details. People feel heard in their presence, which is a valuable quality for building lasting relationships.

Marketing isn’t about performing. It’s about connecting. For me, networking isn’t about working a room or collecting business cards. It’s about finding one or two people I would genuinely enjoy talking with.

If I see someone standing alone and looking as uncomfortable as I feel, I walk over, introduce myself, and make a simple observation about the artwork or the event—whatever feels natural. Most people are relieved someone made the first move.

Managing Your Energy

Respect your energy as well. Your personality matters less than how you manage your energy. If big events leave you drained, avoid scheduling several in a row.

If your creativity thrives in quiet mornings or late nights, protect those times. If you know a weekend at an art festival will be full of conversations, allow yourself time to recharge afterward. You will get further by working with your personality than by fighting it.

Practical Tips for Introvert-Friendly Marketing

Here are some practical ideas that may help you.

Choose marketing activities that naturally lead to conversations, like art fairs, studio tours, workshops, demonstrations, gallery openings, or artist groups. Before you go, set a goal to have one or two meaningful conversations rather than trying to meet everyone.

Ask questions—people enjoy sharing about themselves, and thoughtful questions often spark memorable exchanges. Follow up with those you connect with. Relationships grow over time, not in a single meeting. Balance your social activities with the solitude your creativity needs to thrive.

How Art Careers Are Built

Finally, remember how most art careers are actually built.

Most artists do not need thousands of collectors. A successful career usually comes from a small group of people who buy your work over the years, recommend you to friends, and stay interested in your journey.

You don’t meet those people all at once. You meet them one conversation at a time. If you are an introvert, do not see your personality as something to overcome. See it as something to understand, appreciate, and use to your advantage.

You do not have to market your art the way someone else does. You only need to market your art in a way that is true to who you are.

See you next week.

— Barney

I suspect many of you feel the same way I do about the pace of change in technology and marketing. It doesn’t always feel comfortable. Over the years, I’ve learned that resisting change rarely works, and most shifts bring both benefits and challenges. That lesson still holds.

These days, I use AI often—to brainstorm, proofread, plan travel, and handle the kinds of process-heavy work that drain my energy, like bookkeeping, taxes, ad platforms, and even fixing my dishwasher. These are the sorts of tasks that leave me feeling out of my element, and honestly, they can be exhausting.

Alongside the rise of AI, I find myself unsettled by how disposable so much of our culture has become. Products are designed to be replaced, not cherished. Sites like Temu, Shein, and AliExpress flood the market with factory-priced goods, endless catalogs, and rock-bottom prices—including cheap wall decor. It seems we’re being trained by clever marketing to prize speed and novelty above all else. Yet, even in this environment, I see encouraging news for artists.

When everything feels disposable, authenticity stands out even more.

Of course, there is some pushback. We all love a bargain, but we also value quality, longevity, creativity, and authenticity. I remember when Etsy set out to be a true marketplace for independent artists. Now, it also welcomes dropshippers who resell goods from places like AliExpress. I imagine the drive to grow revenue made this shift inevitable, though I find it disappointing.

Thankfully, there are still places like ArtfulHome.com, which curates work from North American artists and artisans, and online sites like SaatchiArt.com, a global marketplace with a vast range of artists. Each has its own approach, but the options remain.

I’ve come to believe that as more things become replaceable, we start to value what endures even more. Family heirlooms matter because they last. Handcrafted furniture carries more meaning than something churned out by the thousands.

Long-lasting relationships feel especially precious in a world where so much is fleeting. The same is true for art. When walls are filled with mass-produced decor, original work stands out. When images are generated and consumed in seconds, something made by a real person has a presence you can sense.

A yearning for authenticity

I remember first hearing this idea in the late 1990s, when futurist Watts Wacker predicted a growing yearning for authenticity—a desire to own things made and shared by individuals, not just machines or big corporations. At the time, it struck me as an interesting theory. Today, it feels like he barely scratched the surface.

We consume more media than ever, yet many of us sense something is missing. Websites blend together. Social feeds look the same. 15-second videos entertain us for exactly that long. Marketing feels interchangeable. Most people can’t quite put their finger on it, but they recognize the feeling. Authenticity becomes more valuable as it grows harder to find.

This is a point I think many conversations about AI miss. AI can generate images in seconds, mimic styles, and churn out endless variations without ever tiring. But it can’t build a lifetime of experience. It can’t develop a worldview shaped by success, failure, curiosity, or persistence.

There’s a reason most places don’t allow copyright for AI-generated art. Copyright is rooted in human authorship—the idea that creative work expresses human thought, judgment, and experience. No matter how laws evolve, this difference remains.

AI can make images, but it can’t create from lived experience the way human artists do. The value of original art has never been just about technique. Collectors respond to something deeper: a human perspective, the knowledge that someone invested real time and care into making something new. As AI-generated content fills our screens, this difference only becomes clearer.

Art has always been sold through relationships.

Collectors rarely show up simply because they saw a social media post. Most serious buyers come through a series of interactions that build trust over time. They follow your work, learn your story, and get to know your perspective. Eventually, they decide your art deserves a place in their lives. This process has been around long before social media, and it still shapes how art finds its way into new homes.

In a culture where so much feels disposable, these relationships matter even more. When people are surrounded by things that feel temporary, they start to value what feels genuine. They look for artists whose work reflects a real person, not just an algorithm chasing attention.

When someone buys original art, they’re doing more than decorating a wall. They’re supporting an individual, encouraging imagination, and making a thoughtful choice about what deserves to last.

Original handmade art is a distinct and advantageous benefit.

Artists can embrace this distinction with confidence. Original fine art is one of the few things people still bring into their homes that is truly handmade, conceived and created by a living person. Not manufactured. Not generated. Not made by the thousands. That is a meaningful difference. It’s worth stating clearly, and worth sharing with pride.

There’s little value in chasing every trend. What matters most is creating work that reflects your experience and your humanity, and building genuine relationships with people who appreciate it.

Made by a living artist

One advantage artists have is that they can truthfully say something very few businesses can.

Their work was created by a living artist.

It wasn’t mass-produced. It wasn’t manufactured by the thousands. It wasn’t generated by software and uploaded to a warehouse. It was conceived, created, and finished by a real person.

Original fine art is one of the few things people bring into their homes that was made this way. The same is often true of the custom frames that complement it. In a world filled with mass-produced products, that’s a meaningful distinction.

Artists can feel comfortable mentioning this.

It’s not about giving buyers a lecture on supporting the arts. Many people simply haven’t stopped to consider what makes original art different. They see the finished piece, but may not fully appreciate the imagination, skill, experience, and effort that go into it.

When you talk about your work, it’s entirely appropriate to remind people that it’s yours. You created it. You made the decisions. You developed the skills. You invested the time. These aren’t marketing gimmicks—they’re part of your story.

As culture becomes more disposable, authenticity grows more valuable. For artists, this isn’t a disadvantage. It’s an opportunity. Artists who understand this may discover that the qualities they’ve always possessed are exactly the qualities people are looking for. So don’t hold back, and let them know.

See you next week.
— Barney

If you’ve ever wondered what kind of art sells best, you’re not alone. It’s one of the most common questions artists ask, and for good reason. The art market is wide and varied — original paintings, sculpture, mixed media, digital work, reproductions, and prints all find buyers in different ways. What sells in a Charleston gallery might not move on Etsy…

Read more

Art shows and festivals are still among the most effective ways to connect with buyers, get real-time feedback, and build relationships that can support your art business for years to come. Unlike selling online, where distractions are everywhere, shows give people a chance to experience your work in person and meet you as the artist. That personal connection makes a difference.

One of the most valuable lessons I learned early on was simple: visit a show before you decide to exhibit.

Since 1988, I have attended, marketed, and helped produce hundreds of art events. One thing I know for sure is how much you can learn just by walking the floor. Notice how people move through the space, how booths are set up, what prices are posted, and how customers interact. Spending a few hours observing will teach you more than weeks of online research. You will quickly see if your work, pricing, and presentation are a good fit for the audience.

Choose Your Shows Carefully

Not every show is the same. Some attract serious collectors, while others are more about community. Some are best for established artists, and others are a good place to start if you are new to exhibiting.

Before you apply, take time to do your homework. Talk with artists who have shown there. Read reviews. If you can, visit the show as a guest. Watch the crowd, look at the artwork and pricing, and get a feel for the atmosphere.

Prepare Like a Professional

Most juried shows will ask for images of your artwork, a photo of your booth, and an artist statement. Your goal is to demonstrate consistency and professionalism.

Use clear, well-lit images that truly represent the work you plan to show. Keep your artist statement short and genuine. Jurors are looking for artists who will add to the event and present their work well, not for a long personal history.

The same goes for your booth. A clean, organized setup shows buyers and organizers that you take your work seriously. You do not need the fanciest display, but you do need one that feels welcoming, professional, and easy for people to walk through.

It is easy to focus on equipment and displays, but those are rarely what make the biggest difference. Buyers respond to your artwork, how you present it, and the experience you create. A simple booth with strong work and real connection will almost always do better than an elaborate setup without engagement.

Create a Booth That Welcomes People In

Your booth should invite people to stop, look, and connect. Avoid filling every inch. Let your best pieces stand out. Make it easy for visitors to step in and feel comfortable. Whenever possible, don’t block the entry with tables.

Try to see your booth as someone walking by would. What draws their eye? What sparks their curiosity? What makes them want to linger?

One of the biggest mistakes artists make is trying to show everything they have. The temptation is understandable. You’ve invested time, energy, and emotion into your work, and when booth space is limited, it’s easy to convince yourself that more artwork creates more selling opportunities. In practice, the opposite is often true. A crowded booth makes it difficult for visitors to focus on any one piece. Giving your strongest work room to stand out creates a better viewing experience and often leads to stronger engagement.

The goal is not to impress with quantity. The goal is to help people connect with the pieces that matter most.

Every Good Thing Begins With a Conversation

Many artists worry about selling because they think it means being pushy. In my experience, the most successful exhibitors are the ones who make visitors feel at ease.

A common mistake is making yourself unavailable by sitting in the back, looking at your phone, or appearing too busy. Visitors do not want to feel like they are interrupting. Often, a smile, eye contact, and a simple hello are all it takes to start a conversation.

You do not need a sales pitch. Most visitors would rather not hear one. What matters is showing real interest and being willing to help. Ask simple questions like “What kind of art do you enjoy?” Is this your first time at the show? What caught your attention?

When they answer, listen. Do not rush to talk about your own work. Let curiosity guide the conversation. The stories behind your art matter—what inspired you, what drew you to a subject, what challenges you faced—but those stories have the most impact when someone is already interested. Often, a single well-timed sentence says more than a long explanation.

I have always believed that good things in an art career start with a conversation. Art shows give you a rare chance to have those talks in person. Be present and make the most of them.

Think About Your Prices Strategically

Confidence in your prices is important, but so is offering a range of price points.

Most collectors — even serious ones — don’t arrive at a show intending to spend a specific amount. They’re responding to what they see. That means your price range does real work. A booth with nothing under a few hundred dollars may lose buyers who would have happily purchased a smaller item. A booth with nothing over a few hundred dollars may signal to serious collectors that you’re still finding your footing. Think about your price points like a good menu. A few higher-priced pieces show your value and give serious buyers something to aim for. Most sales will come from mid-range work. Smaller, more affordable pieces—like studies, prints, or note cards if they fit your market—make it easy for people to buy on impulse.

Never apologize for your prices. Your work reflects your time, skill, materials, and creative vision. Share your prices with confidence. When you believe in your value, buyers are more likely to believe in it too.

Make Buying Convenient

If someone wants to buy your work, make it as easy as possible for them. Accept different forms of payment. Have business cards ready. Be prepared to talk about pricing clearly and without hesitation.

Some people buy right away. Others need time to decide. Respect both. Your job is to help visitors find what interests them, answer questions honestly, and make it easy for them to buy if they choose. You do not need to close every sale on the spot.

The Real Work Begins After the Show

Many artists put all their energy into the event and forget about what comes next.

Follow up with people who showed real interest. Send a short thank-you note. With permission, add them to your email list. Stay in touch and share new work or upcoming events. A sale months from now may begin with a simple conversation at a show.

This is why I encourage artists to look beyond immediate sales. Relationships often matter more than single transactions. Someone who buys once may become a repeat collector, refer friends, or follow your work for years.

Measure More Than Sales

Do not judge every event only by your sales. Ask yourself what you learned, which pieces drew the most attention, what questions visitors asked, and how you can improve your booth next time.

Some of the most valuable lessons you will learn as an artist come from showing your work in public. For your first show, the best return may not be what you earn, but what you learn. Every show becomes an investment in both your art business and your future as an artist.

See you next week!

— Barney

PS: If you’re an older artist, you may enjoy my Substack about staying connected to the creative life as we get older, with more ease, more perspective, and less pressure.

Last Monday, I walked into my office planning to write about letting go because I’d felt the lightning bolt of inspiration that I always welcome.

Before I started, I did some housekeeping and replied to what turned out to be the last two comments I would ever receive on my WordPress blog.

Final Acts and New Beginnings

That simple act, replying to comments, is one I’ve done countless times; suddenly, it felt different. I realized I had completed twenty years of publishing, a thousand-plus posts, and countless conversations—and the final notes had arrived quietly, without ceremony.

Instead of writing about letting go, I found myself living it.

I’ve discovered what letting go actually feels like.

Neither dramatic nor tragic, just true.

It’s Closing Down a Decades-Long Blogging Ecosystem

I’m not just saying goodbye to WordPress. I’m saying goodbye to my email marketing platform. More broadly, I’m saying goodbye to nearly twenty years of managing the machinery behind a digital publishing business.

Not because it failed me, but because I no longer need it. That’s a different thing.

The website, the hosting, the temperamental plugins, the automation, the endless maintenance—they all served their purpose. For years, I was willing to carry the weight because the weight made sense.

Now it doesn’t.

One of the things I’ve learned is that you don’t have to keep carrying everything. Some responsibilities belong to an earlier version of ourselves. Some ambitions do too. What once felt necessary starts to feel optional. What once felt important begins to look like clutter.

Eventually, you become willing to ask a simple question:

Does this still serve the life I want now?

For me, the answer became clear.

It’s Funny How Things Just Work Out Right Sometimes

Moving Art Marketing News to Substack wasn’t the original plan. It began as a quiet experiment with Older Artists. But after working here for a while, the obviousness of the move became impossible to ignore.

Some of that is practical. The move reduces complexity and removes a surprising amount of friction. But that’s not really what this is about.

What I’m feeling is something deeper. I’m not just reinvigorating Art Marketing News. I’m reinvigorating myself. That’s where the incredible lightness of letting go comes in.

Doing Less, Better Is a Real Thing of Real Value

I’ve spent years talking about Practical Minimalism. At the center of it is a simple idea: do less better. This move may be the purest expression of that principle I’ve ever lived.

I’m doing less. And the work is better.

I’m writing with more ease. I’m spending less time managing systems and more time creating. The signal feels stronger because there’s less noise around it.

The strange thing is that letting go hasn’t made my world smaller. It has made it lighter. And lighter feels a lot like freedom.

At this stage of my life, that feels less like giving something up and more like arriving somewhere. To feel this kind of renewal is something I don’t take for granted. It feels like turning a corner and finding a new season waiting there.

One with less weight and more possibility.

Letting Go of WordPress Is Monumental

Most of all, this shift leaves me better positioned to do the work that matters most to me. To keep sharing ideas, information, and inspiration with artists. To keep helping creative people navigate a changing world with a little more clarity and confidence.

And the joy that comes from realizing I can continue doing that—with less friction, less complexity, and more focus—lifts me and makes me lighter still.

I couldn’t be happier.

Turning this corner now, while feeling this kind of lightness and renewed energy, is something I don’t take for granted.

It’s something I feel deeply grateful for.

See you next week!

— Barney

PS: As much as this is about letting go, it’s about renewal. This post is my first sent from my new Substack platform. You’re getting it because you were subscribed on the WordPress platform that I let go of soon after I wrote this. Thanks for being here.

PPS: If you’re an older artist, you may enjoy my Substack about staying connected to the creative life as we get older, with more ease, more perspective, and less pressure.

For years, artists have been told that interior designers are a great market for their work.

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Years ago my friend Dick Harrison and I wrote…

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Imagine your artwork hanging in galleries and gracing home goods, apparel, and tech accessories worldwide. Art licensing can turn this vision into reality for visual artists. It’s a realm where creativity meets commerce, allowing your art to reach new markets and generate additional revenue streams.

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If email is still important, the next question is simple: how can artists use it naturally and effectively?

The artists I see getting the most from email keep things simple. They use email to stay in touch with people who care about their work, treating it as a natural extension of their relationships.

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