Most luxury purchases, including fine art, aren’t spontaneous. Yes, you may get a few sales by exhibiting in the right place at the right time. But talk to artists who have done shows for years, and you’ll hear about sales that came later.

Someone saw the work and felt something. They probably chatted with you about it, then went home and kept thinking about it, or maybe they told someone else.

Eventually, weeks, months, or even years later, an actual sale happened—all the more likely if you stayed in touch and kept the conversation going, even if it was one-sided, through newsletters, ads, and email.

For many artists, those later sales and the connections formed at a show are a substantial part of what makes exhibiting worthwhile. What happens during the show doesn’t tell the whole story. There are always exceptions, but I like to look for patterns. And then I like to look underneath them.

A few weeks ago on Older Artists, I wrote about “the thing beneath the thing.” It’s a way of looking below the surface of what happens. For me, it starts with curiosity.

I look for what motivates decisions and actions because that understanding helps me communicate with someone, show I get them and value them, and avoid judging them. That’s not slick sales technique; it’s showing decency, compassion, and respect. People can usually tell the difference between being worked and being understood.

In the decades I spent selling expensive advertising and trade show space, understanding people on a deeper level helped enormously. If all I understood was that someone wanted more business, I knew very little. Nearly everyone I talked with wanted that. What mattered was understanding what more business meant to that person and what they were willing to do to get it.

Who is this person? Why are they doing this? What’s their payoff? What has happened in their past that makes them see an opportunity—or a risk—the way they do?

I wasn’t asking those questions to judge their decisions or beliefs. I wanted to understand how they arrived at this point and made this decision. That understanding helped me work with them, especially if I hoped to retain them as a customer.

It has helped me throughout my life, too. Seeing people in this way gives me a broader understanding and more appreciation for who they are and how they became who they are.

I knew what I wanted from a sales conversation: a full page of advertising and a booth, or two booths, at every show for the next year. Understanding that part was easy and obvious. But to help them decide to act on my offer, I needed to know why they would commit, or why they wouldn’t.

That latter part was just as valuable because if I knew why you would advertise but never exhibit, I could adjust my expectations and not waste time on things that would never happen. To get there, I needed to know what they believed would make the investment worthwhile.

I don’t just look at cause and effect. The result I wanted was obvious. What interested me was what led someone else to want that result, too. What was their payoff? What was their motivation?

You can apply that same curiosity to looking at what makes art sales happen. An artist shows a painting to a buyer. The buyer likes it and buys it. That’s the transaction, and we’re happy when it happens.

But how did that person end up standing in front of that painting? What made them interested enough to look? Had they seen the artist’s work before? Did someone suggest they stop by, or introduce them to the artist or the art? Do they have an affinity for your genre, or the messages your art implies?

The answers can tell you much more than the sales themselves.

If you’ve been at this for any length of time, think about where your sales have come from. You may recognize a pattern. Perhaps buyers return after seeing you at several shows. Maybe previous collectors introduce people to your work. You might have a friend who seems to know just when to mention your name.

Underneath that pattern is the thing beneath the thing. What caused those opportunities to develop? Who was involved before you knew there might be a sale?

I’ve been saying for years that everything good in an art career starts with a conversation. And conversations happen because we meet other people. We get acquainted, discover shared interests, and learn something about one another. Sometimes that leads to business. Often, we have no idea where it might lead.

When you look back at how someone became interested enough to open their wallet and buy your art, you may find that a relationship helped make it possible. You knew the buyer, or someone else helped bring them into your circle. They became aware of your work, came to appreciate it, and eventually wanted to own it.

That relationship wasn’t necessarily between you and the buyer at the beginning.

Someone can appreciate that you’re an artist, enjoy your work, and be glad to know you without ever becoming a customer. They may not be able to afford your art. They may have no room for another piece. Or what you make doesn’t suit their taste.

Suppose you paint abstracts, and someone you know loves Western art. Their home is full of horses, landscapes, and reminders of the places they’ve visited. Your work isn’t going over their fireplace. That’s fine. You can still know and like each other.

Then their dentist mentions decorating a new office or a condo. The dentist loves modern furniture and abstract art. Your Western-art-loving acquaintance says, “I know Barney. He’s a terrific abstract artist. You should look at his work.”

That person didn’t need to want your art to help it find someone who might.

You can’t predict every connection like that, and I wouldn’t want you to try. It would be exhausting to assess everyone you meet for their potential usefulness. But you can appreciate that people have a place in your life and your career beyond whether they’re likely to buy something.

You can also share enough about your work so others can recognize a connection when it comes along. If they know what you make and what interests you, they have something to remember and talk about.

I’m working on a new version of How to Find Art Buyers, and I’ll tell you more about it next week. After roughly a decade since I created the first version, I’ve returned to it with this question about the thing beneath the thing.

Most artists can’t successfully sell art through relentless persuasion. Some people have an unusual ability to pull that off, but they’re as rare as hen’s teeth, and what they do isn’t something another artist can repeat, and, respectfully, most would never want to try.

We can, however, better understand where our sales come from and how relationships make them possible. That’s what I’ve been looking at in this new version of the course. The relationships that support an art career extend well beyond the artist and the person who makes the purchase.

For now, think about a few of your own sales. Go back further than the moment someone agreed to buy. How did they find you? Who else was involved? What made them pay attention?

You might discover that someone who has never bought a thing from you has helped your art find its way more than you realized. Or you might recognize some patterns below the surface, connections and motivations that moved the sales dial in ways you didn’t see at first. That’s the thing beneath the thing at work.

We’ll talk more about this soon.

I’ll see you next week.

—Barney

Advice on being successful as an artist is everywhere. Most of it focuses on seeking more sales, success, and recognition. And a lot of it is about how to make $100,000 annually. I agree that it’s a pretty good goal to have; it’s an impressive and thrilling threshold. It was for me when I broke through in my magazine publishing days.

But let’s be real. Is breaking into six figures the key to success? Somewhere along the way, a six-figure art business has become a goal you're supposed to find appealing. I get it. Who doesn't want $100,000? I'd certainly take it in a heartbeat. That is, until you tell me what it costs me to get it. Then I might give it a second thought.

That's where the rub comes in for many other artists and me. Money is not free. Success and recognition come at a price to achieve and sustain. I use "secretly" in the title of this post because many of us are still trying to live up to others' expectations. Sometimes, we don’t even know whose expectations they are, but we still feel like we must meet some standard that is often implied by things that, when you think about them, don’t have a bearing on your life at all. It’s inherited headspace you don’t need, and that probably messes with you in ways that aren’t beneficial to you or your business.

So you might be one of those people who secretly doesn't want to earn $100,000 a year, not because you can't do it, but because you realize the price to pay to get it is higher than you're willing or able to pay. At the same time, you don’t want others to think less of you because your goals are different and you're not pushing yourself to succeed at the highest level. I don't call this a lack of ambition; I call it pragmatic ambition. There's a big difference. When you choose goals within your reach, or within your reach plus a reasonable stretch, that’s pragmatic ambition.

I didn’t coin this phrase, but I use it often: “It’s okay to be okay.” That’s not making excuses for anyone; it’s being realistic about our individual lives and the struggles we face, which differ for everyone. Some of it has to do with where you are in your life and career. I mentioned breaking through to the six-figure club in my career. At that point, I was as competitive and highly motivated as anyone I knew. I had worked my way into a place where opportunity was abundant, and I was there to fully capitalize on it, and I did.

But today, that’s no longer my jam. As I like to say, “These days, I’m built for comfort, not for speed.” And it’s not just about age. What success means to you—and how much of the opportunity around you you choose to pursue—is your jam. It’s all shaped by what’s happening in your life and business right now. And your jam is uniquely yours.

I've been part of the art world since 1988, and over the years, I've known talented artists who hoped to build much bigger careers. I've also known artists who could have pursued more but chose a different path. Everyone wants something different from being an artist, and those hopes can shift as life changes.

For one artist, $100,000 in annual sales might be an important milestone. Another might prefer $25,000 and plenty of studio time. Someone else may be pleased to sell enough to cover the cost of making art. Of course, sales aren’t take-home income; what really matters is how much you keep. It’s why I developed the Artist Income Calculator and Forecaster to give artists a tool to see how underlying costs affect their take-home income.

Some ambitions don’t fit neatly into a revenue goal. I’ve come to believe the long-term relationships you build can become as important and valuable as anything you do as an artist. A circle of friends, fans, buyers, and benefactors can uplift and sustain an artist well beyond manipulating advertising algorithms that constantly morph under frequently changing rules.

It’s healthy to find a few collectors who return for more of your work, to connect with people who are happy to introduce you to others, or to nurture relationships that open doors to opportunities you may not have discovered on your own. It’s reasonable to believe some of these connections will become meaningful influences in your life and career for years to come.

That’s why I’m nearly ready to announce a new How to Find Art Buyers program. I’ve been developing it for months to replace the long-retired 2016 version. I’ve shifted the focus from asking artists to become direct marketers, which conflicts with the nature of many artists, to helping you recognize opportunities already around you, build meaningful connections, and turn natural conversations into relationships that can lead to sales, referrals, and opportunities.

I’ll be announcing it to AMN subscribers soon, so please stay tuned.
Building meaningful connections makes selling art more rewarding and gives your efforts direction. With people to talk to, reasons to follow up, and a clearer sense of who welcomes your work, you can market authentically and build sustainably.

Thinking this way isn’t meant to let you off the hook. You need the courage to be honest with yourself about your ambition. That’s because thinking, “Maybe I don’t really want it,” might be a way to avoid rejection, success, discomfort, or trying something new. It’s important to recognize that when discomfort is involved, it doesn’t necessarily mean the goal is wrong.

All ambition comes with a price; even when it’s a goal that fits you, it will require doing things you’d rather not do. The point is to decide whether what you’re buying is worth the price to you, whether you can stick with it, and whether it fits who you are as a human and an artist.

I’ve given up on convincing every artist to think bigger, try harder, and grow to their fullest capacity. A few of you may want that, and I am here for you if you do. This blog is loaded with useful information to help you. But I also don’t believe running a smaller business makes anyone lesser. Choosing modest goals doesn’t make anyone less serious about their art.

I’ve reached a point in my life and career where I measure myself more by what I give than what I get. It’s a nice byproduct of decades of ambitious pursuits. Today, what matters most to me is helping artists understand the kind of career they want and giving them the knowledge, tools, and opportunities to pursue it.
Before asking yourself, “How can I sell more art?” it may be helpful to consider another question: “How much art business do I actually want?” Then take a moment to reflect on what you’re willing to do to make it happen.

See you next week.

— Barney

Editor’s note: Art Business Brief is produced for paid Art Marketing News subscribers. Occasionally, I make an edition available to everyone so all readers can see the kind of practical art-business intelligence the Brief provides. This is one of those editions.

This edition points to something more encouraging than another headline about million-dollar auctions. Collectors are showing greater interest in getting closer to artists, one regional fair is demonstrating what artist-first economics can look like, and an online gallery reports substantial activity among new buyers at accessible prices.

There is also a practical warning. Holiday shipping costs are rising, and the highest costs will fall on the oversized packages artists are most likely to underestimate.

1. Collectors are buying more directly from artists

The Art Basel and UBS Survey of Global Collecting found that studio visits experienced a greater rise in attendance than any other art event it measured, including exhibitions, fairs, auctions, and biennials.

More consequentially, buying directly from artists—through studio visits, Instagram, and commissions—more than tripled as a share of collector spending, reaching 20%.

This does not mean galleries are becoming irrelevant. Nor does it establish that the same percentage applies across the entire art market. The survey covers high-net-worth collectors, whose resources and buying habits differ substantially from those of most art buyers.

Still, the direction is worth noticing. Collectors are not only seeking objects. They are showing greater interest in the artist, the studio, the story, and the experience surrounding the work.

Why artists should care: Independent artists often assume they are at a disadvantage because they lack gallery representation or access to prestigious fairs. Direct contact may already be one of their advantages.

The finding also supports a point I made recently in “More Competition. More Opportunity”: greater access to art creates more competition, but it also creates more ways for artists and buyers to find one another.

An open studio, a personal reply, a conversation about the work, or an occasional look behind the scenes can provide something a large marketplace cannot easily reproduce. Everything good that happens in an art career begins with a conversation, and the collector research suggests that more buyers want to get closer to where those conversations begin.

What to do: Make it easy for interested people to take one reasonable step closer. That could be a studio appointment, a small gathering, a thoughtful Instagram exchange, a commission conversation, or an email invitation to see new work.

Signal: A meaningful shift in collector behavior, though measured among affluent collectors rather than the entire buying public.
Confidence: High on the reported survey findings; medium on how directly they apply to Main Street buyers.
Source: Art Basel, “Are experiences the new luxury good?”

2. BUTTER shows what an artist-first art fair can produce

The sixth annual BUTTER Fine Art Fair in Indianapolis sold 107 artworks for $298,918. Artists received 100% of artwork sales under the fair’s no-commission model.

The event presented work from 53 exhibiting artists, 13 student artists, and nine galleries. More than 9,000 people attended. Across six years, BUTTER reports more than $2 million in artwork sales, 347 participating artists, and 30 acquisitions by 17 institutions.

Those are substantial results for a regional event built around living, working artists.

The qualifications matter. The organizer reports the numbers, but they don't tell us how many artists sold nothing or what the median artist earned. One artist sold 24 pieces, which demonstrates why an average cannot describe the typical participant’s experience. We also do not know the full cost of producing the fair or how dependent the model is on sponsors.

Even with those limitations, BUTTER changes the usual allocation of risk. Most fairs collect booth fees before anyone knows whether buyers will arrive. BUTTER uses sponsors, community partners, institutional relationships, admissions, and programming to help finance the marketplace while returning artwork revenue to artists.

It also does more than assemble art in a room. Free admission for people under 18, school visits, educational programming, a Collectors Club, institutional participation, and continuing online availability all help develop future buyers.

Why artists should care: Artists can choose among available fairs, but organizers and communities can also build better fairs. The responsibility for generating sales need not rest almost entirely on individual exhibitors who have already paid for the privilege of taking the risk.

The thing beneath the thing: BUTTER is not simply a no-commission fair. It deliberately brings working artists, institutions, sponsors, and ordinary buyers together—and treats artist income as part of the event’s purpose.

Signal: A documented six-year regional model, not yet an industry-wide change.
Confidence: High on the structure and reported aggregate sales; medium on the outcome for a typical participating artist.
Source: BUTTER’s September 10 results

3. Singulart reports a substantial influx of new buyers

Online gallery Singulart reports that 76% of its buyers in 2025 were making their first purchase on the platform. Those new buyers accounted for almost half of all purchases.

Price appears to be an important part of the story. Thirty-five percent of purchases were below €500, and 56% were below €1,000. Singulart also reported a 39% increase in sales of limited-edition prints and lithographs between 2024 and 2025.

This is company data issued in a promotional press release. It does not prove that 76% of all online art buyers are first-time collectors, nor does it tell us whether a buyer was purchasing art for the first time anywhere or merely making a first purchase through Singulart. It also says nothing about the buyer’s age, income, or homeownership.

It does, however, provide evidence that one large international platform is attracting many new customers and making a significant share of its sales below €1,000.

Why artists should care: Accessible work can give an interested person a way to begin. A small original, drawing, photograph, or well-produced print is not necessarily a lesser version of an artist’s work. It can be the first work someone feels comfortable buying.

The point is not that every artist needs to lower prices or begin producing editions. A first purchase carries uncertainty. Clear prices, understandable choices, credible presentation, and an attainable starting point can reduce that uncertainty without diminishing the work.

What to watch: Whether Singulart releases more information about repeat purchases, buyer retention, artist earnings, and how sales are split between original work and editions.

Signal: Strong platform-specific evidence, but not a market-wide finding.
Confidence: High that Singulart reported these results; medium on what they suggest beyond Singulart.
Source: Singulart, “Is Art Only for the Rich? New Data Says No”

4. Holiday shipping increases have begun

The U.S. Postal Service’s temporary holiday prices took effect October 4 and will remain in place until January 17, 2027.

Retail Priority Mail increases range from 50 cents for a light nearby package to $9.10 for a package weighing 26–70 pounds traveling to Zones 5–9. Retail USPS Ground Advantage increases reach $7.50 for distant packages weighing 26–70 pounds or classified as oversized. A Priority Mail Large Flat Rate Box costs an additional $2.10 during the holiday period.

FedEx’s holiday demand charges began September 28. Packages subject to Additional Handling carry an extra $8.80, rising to $11.85 from November 23 through December 27. The holiday Oversize Charge is $95.75 and rises to $117.25 during that peak period.

These charges are especially relevant to framed paintings, large prints, and sculpture. An artwork may not seem unusually large until padding, corner protection, and a sturdy outer box are added. Carriers calculate rates from the finished package, not the art's dimensions.

Why artists should care: A shipping amount calculated during summer may no longer cover a holiday order. The risk becomes greater when an artist advertises free or fixed-price shipping before knowing the buyer’s location.

What to do: Measure and weigh the packaged work, obtain a current quote, and check whether additional-handling or oversize charges apply. For large or distant shipments, quoting shipping individually may be safer than relying on a standard amount.

Signal: Confirmed seasonal cost increase now in effect.
Confidence: High; actual charges depend on the carrier, service, package, destination, and any negotiated rates.
Sources: USPS 2026 holiday price schedule and FedEx demand surcharges

What these developments have in common

The strongest thread is not that everyone has suddenly become an art buyer. Buyers appear more willing to begin or become involved when the distance between themselves and the artist is reduced.

Sometimes that distance is personal. A studio visit or direct exchange helps the buyer understand the artist and the work.

Sometimes it is financial. An accessible original or edition gives someone a manageable place to start.

And sometimes it is structural. An organizer such as BUTTER can build the sponsors, programming, institutional participation, and buyer development that allow artists to meet the public without carrying nearly all the financial risk themselves.

None of these developments promises an easy sale. They do suggest that helping people become comfortable enough to buy art may be as important as putting more art in front of them.

About this Brief: I researched and wrote this report with AI under my direction. I select the subjects, guide the research, review the sources and claims, and curate and approve the final report.

I use this information to inform my advice and writing for Art Marketing News and to help artists stay aware of developments that may affect their careers. I believe becoming a student of the art business helps you make better-informed decisions and become a more well-rounded working artist.

I write this weekly Art Marketing News Substack from the pulse of the fine art market, through the lens of what I call unheralded Main Street artists. They create beautiful artworks, mostly without the illusion or delusion that they are museum-bound. Some struggle while others make six figures. Rarely is the artwork the sole difference-maker.

I write for artists like you who work incredibly hard to make and market art in a constantly changing world, including shifts in who buys art these days, where they buy it, and the growing array of tempting choices for spending discretionary income.

For example, a buyer with extra income might be thinking of buying a piece from you while weighing whether to spend $3,000 on a bottle of 30-year-old single-malt scotch, a collector’s wristwatch, a Caribbean cruise, or a zip line tour or surf trip to Costa Rica. Your competition is not just other artists. It’s for attention and experience, too.

Rather than elite, exotic locations, I find most of my AMN readers hail from places called Springfield and Litchfield, Franklin and Fairview, and thousands of other places that aren’t art destinations. They create their art and try to reach the people who might care about it, working in near obscurity, certainly by the standards of what makes headlines as art news.

So, I’m constantly thinking about how the market is performing for them, how they are faring, and what interesting angles they are using to get their work to market. That’s why I started the Art Business Brief periodical report for my paid AMN subscribers. We benefit from AI-assisted research that helps us understand what is otherwise hard to grasp. Grassroots news and views for everyday artists.

I don’t think the market for Main Street artists is collapsing, and I don’t know of any statistics that neatly measure it. I’m pretty sure they don’t exist. It’s just the way it is: simple economics dictate there’s little to gain from trying to gather that kind of information unless you are the odd sort, like you and me, who care about it.

It’s hard to find useful data because artists are too scattered, too independent, and selling through too many different channels to fit conveniently into the reports we read about the art business. And frankly, what happened at the weekend art show in Springfield never makes the news unless a man bites a dog there. That’s okay. We toil away making art and getting it to market in our own unique ways, and if we are lucky and good, it pays off well enough to keep at it.

I’m more than an optimist because I think despite increased competition, there is also increased opportunity. In my career, the changes are extraordinary. Not that long ago, monthly magazines were one of the most powerful and effective ways for an artist to build a reputation and make sales beyond their regional market.

But the cost was prohibitively expensive, and the results were spotty. Plus, it was considered career suicide because galleries, which carried much more clout then, were likely to never give an independent artist the time of day. Why work with someone who competes with you—an understandable reaction. It’s still mostly that way, but coopetition is evolving since social media gives artists opportunities to have influence and share it like never before.

In the mid-90s, a single full-page, four-color ad in Decor magazine that reached just under 30,000 retail art and picture-framing shops cost roughly $2,000. And there's no reliable way to know how many saw the ad or even opened the magazine. By comparison, spending that same amount on highly targeted Meta ads guided by increasingly smart algorithms could deliver and measure hundreds of thousands of impressions, thousands of engagements, and help build a growing email list. It could be the basis for a learning system that keeps improving who it shows your art to—all for the same price as one static page in one trade magazine for one month.

Essentially, we are living in different worlds. Nonetheless, fundamentally, people still want to make art and others want to buy it. But how that happens has expanded more than it has changed. Galleries, fairs, and studio tours remain excellent venues, but online marketing with highly effective, inexpensive advertising, along with organic social media and expanded media options, adds dimensions that create new opportunities.

If you are on Xanadu Gallery’s artist mailing list, you’ve no doubt heard about its ArtBoost program. My friend, the gallery owner, has successfully run Xanadu Gallery on Main Street in Scottsdale for two decades. It’s one of the most competitive art markets in the country. His savvy business skills have contributed to his ongoing success, including considerable digital and social media marketing.

He’s reporting very encouraging results for artists participating in his cooperative social media advertising, and many are succeeding despite never having shown in his physical gallery. It's easy to say he has advantages that an unknown artist lacks, and that would be correct. But it would be wrong to believe that there is still no opportunity.

The good thing is that social media advertising comes in different sizes. Whether you can afford a $20 or $200-per-day ad campaign, there is room for you in the market. That wasn’t true with $2,000 ads in Décor in 1995. And, honestly, one-time ads were nearly always a bust. It always takes repeat exposure to build awareness, trust, and interest before something happens. That never changes. The cost is much lower and more scalable than before, and buyers are demonstrably willing to buy directly from artists online with no prior relationship.

It’s not a panacea or miracle. There is no guarantee, but the odds are not totally against you like they were 30 years ago. You will still have to get more from what you learn initially than what you earn; that also never changes.

You have to pay to play, and you have to learn to make that investment pay off. So, you start with the right mindset. Have your stuff together as much as possible before you launch, and budget enough to keep you in the game long enough to start turning things to your advantage. Using ChatGPT or any AI assistant can help you make good choices, navigate complex ad platforms, and understand how the market works. They can help you do the research that lets you make informed decisions.

The one thing that has remained constant is the connective glue of relationships. It’s true: people buy the artist and the art. They buy the story. They crave authenticity more than ever because it is so easy to fake creativity these days. Being real and uniquely you is what will build your career, sell your art, and make you feel fulfilled financially and emotionally. AI cannot replicate that now or ever. People get it when they see it and will support you for it.

When you shift from thinking about making sales to building relationships with people who will buy your art, something changes. Over time, you begin to realize you are accumulating friends, admirers, benefactors, and collectors who stick together, held by the connective glue of shared stories, interests, beliefs, and reputation. Your art sales and your existence as a creative soul evolve through such experiences.

Your connections, whether digital and distant or close enough to share a cup of coffee or a beer, or even a phone call, are the coin of the realm. And not every connection means a sale is imminent; that’s irrational and unrealistic. Sales come when awareness, interest, and desire converge. A great prospect can take months or years to become a buyer.

Some sales that seem natural never transpire, just as some unlikely ones happen to your delight. It’s not yours to decide. Your job is to be present, keep your end up, and be there when opportunity strikes, including having the fortitude to ask for the sale when it does.

I’ve often and long said that everything good that happens in an art career begins with a conversation. Not just sales, but getting grants, getting into galleries, negotiating better spots in shows, and more—all start with conversations.

So, yes, the competition is greater, but so is the opportunity. A comment and reply on a social post or ad is a conversation; an email exchange is, too. It’s not the same as in-person, which is hard to beat when it happens.

Today’s artist in Springfield has something artists of an earlier generation didn’t have. The next person who becomes genuinely interested in their work might live across town, across the country, or someplace the artist has never been. Finding, connecting, and communicating with that person is possible in ways it wasn’t before.

You are more interesting than you realize; your stories matter, and so do relationships that form because of them. You have more ways to share your art, your story, and a little of yourself today than ever.

There simply are more opportunities that are real and present. You can make them happen on a scale and pace that fits you, uniquely.

The interesting question isn’t whether the opportunity for relationships exists. It’s how well and how often you recognize that possibility, turn it into an actual, natural human connection, and nurture it.

Once you get that going, things start to get interesting, profitable, and fun.

See you next week.

—Barney

Last week, in Part One of this guide, I wrote about getting comfortable talking about your art, avoiding assumptions about prospective buyers, making genuine connections, and building confidence through preparation and practice.

Now we get to the other side of selling art: what happens when someone is interested enough that buying becomes a real possibil…

Read more

This week’s strongest development is one many artists may not notice until it has already reduced their profit: holiday shipping increases begin within the next two weeks.

Also worth knowing: Bonhams is testing a way for living artists to benefit when their work is resold; Etsy has shifted more of the tariff responsibility to sellers; and Richmond is using public art as part of a broader investment in commercial districts.

Meanwhile, more cities and independent organizers are experimenting with ways to bring ordinary buyers and working artists together outside the traditional gallery system. That may turn out to be the most interesting development of all, although it is still too early to call it a broad trend.

Read more

A note about this guide: This is the first of a two-part Art Marketing News guide to help you become more comfortable and effective at selling your art. Part Two will be published next Sunday.

I’ve worked with enough artists over the years to know that many feel uncomfortable selling their art. That is completely understandable. As I’ve often said, I’ve …

Read more

I’ve been at this for a long time, and I’ve experienced this dynamic myself.

It can be exciting to project what you might make from your art in the coming year. You have plans you believe will put some sales on the board. You look at what happened in previous years, what you know about your plans for next year, and make some realistic assumptions.

Maybe you’re projecting that you could make $50,000. And if you’re lucky and things go your way, you may even make more.

That’s what I wish for you. But that’s not the whole story. In fact, it’s just the beginning. That $50,000 is at the very top of your earnings. Nothing has been deducted from it yet. And your top number could be anything. $10,000. $50,000. $100,000.

While your gross sales figure matters, this dynamic always applies.

It’s not what you make. It’s what you keep that matters.

Sometimes, that outcome can be a sobering reality. But it’s the kind of information you absolutely need if you want to have a successful, sustainable career in the art business.

This dynamic holds whether you’re marketing art as a profitable side hustle or creating and selling art as your main occupation that supports you and your family. When it comes to the financial side of your art business, the bottom-line question is pretty simple:

How much is left after I deduct my business operating costs?

Before you bank anything, you first pay for or deduct materials, framing, commissions, show fees, shipping, marketing, payment processing, studio expenses, and everything else it takes to make and sell your work. All those costs reduce your top number.

I wanted to give artists a better way to see the whole picture.

That’s why I created the Artist Income & Pricing Forecaster. I’ll tell you how to get it below.

It’s a workbook that lets you use your own information to create three different views of your potential income: Conservative, Realistic, and Stretch.

You enter your own assumptions about your prices, sales, and costs. The Forecaster then lets you see what those numbers could mean for your annual and monthly take-home income.

I developed it with three scenarios so you can experiment and compare outcomes.

The variables let you examine what happens if sales aren’t quite as strong as you expect, or what if they are, or even better. You can see what happens when you increase your prices, change your sales mix, or get creative in finding ways to reduce expenses.

The reality is that some of those things are under your control and some aren’t. That’s life.

I created this workbook to help you clearly understand that the things you can control can help you bring more of what you earn home to yourself and your family.

This isn’t a tool you use once and throw away. You already know your circumstances will change and that next year’s business won’t be exactly like this year’s. With the Forecaster, you can go back, change the inputs, and get a new perspective.

The Artist Income & Pricing Forecaster is $17. I’ve intentionally kept the price low so it’s useful and affordable for working artists.

Before I tell you how to get it, I want to share another part of the pricing picture for free. I also created a complementary research project because knowing what you might earn and keep is only one side of the pricing question. Artists should know what other artists are actually charging.

It’s a brand-new, free 16-page PDF called “What Are Artists Like You Charging?” — An Independent Artist Pricing Index.

I’ve found tons of posts, free and paid courses, and calculators on pricing your art. While most are pretty good at providing formulas, they are also limited in how much real help they give because they lack context. That’s why I created this free resource.

It examines the publicly listed asking prices of 250 original artworks in August 2026. I included a cross-section of different sizes, media, price points, and selling environments. The result is a report that I’m offering for free to all artists.

I created it because artists are naturally curious about what other artists charge, and that information provides useful context.

There are plenty of ways to calculate art prices. You can use price per square inch, price per linear inch, hours and materials, or a combination of these. What I find is that all these methods work to some degree, but the results are a bit like reading a thermometer.

You know the temperature, but you don’t really know the weather.

That’s because a formula can only give you a number, but it can’t give you the whole context in which that number has to work.

In conducting the research, I found a remarkably wide range of prices. Across the 250 artworks, asking prices ranged from $100 to $20,000. The median price was $1,150, with the middle 50% falling between $550 and $2,500.

My research also examined differences in asking prices by artwork size, medium, and selling environment. The results reinforce the idea that copying someone else’s price is a mistake.

That’s because these are asking prices, not confirmed sales.

Another artist’s price cannot accurately determine what you should charge. Your costs, reputation, audience, selling environment, size, medium, and actual sales experience are unique to you, and each matters in its own way. As such, I hope you recognize that the report is intended to give you market context, not a pricing formula.

I think that’s much more useful.

You can have the report for free.

Download What Are Artists Like You Charging?

There’s another reason I’m giving it away, and I’m happy to tell you what it is.

I use the report as a lead magnet.

I’ll be advertising it to artists who don’t know me and aren’t subscribers to Art Marketing News. They can download the report for free, and afterward I’ll offer them the Artist Income & Pricing Forecaster for $17.

I’m offering you the same thing. When you download the free report, you’ll also have the option to get the Forecaster.

I think $17 for the Forecaster is a bargain given what it can help you understand. And I’ve intentionally priced it low.

I operate on a premise I’ve mentioned before:

I judge my success more by what I give than by what I get.

I want to make useful things available to as many artists as possible at prices they can afford.

The $17 also helps make the economics work for me. I’ll be paying to advertise the free report to reach new artists. Sales of the Forecaster can help offset those costs, allowing me to reach and help even more artists.

I look at it as a virtuous circle.

I give artists something useful for free. Some of them decide the Forecaster is worth $17. That revenue helps me reach more artists. And I get to continue doing what I’ve been doing for a very long time: helping artists make better decisions about their careers and businesses.

So, I encourage you to download What Are Artists Like You Charging? It’s free, and I think you’ll find the information useful.

And when you get it, you’ll also have the option to get the Artist Income & Pricing Forecaster. I encourage you to consider it because knowing the prices other artists are charging is useful, and so is knowing what you might make and keep.

Whether you make that $50,000 next year or some other number, there’s still one question that matters more.

Do you get to keep $10,000? $20,000? Or even more?

The answer depends on your business, your expenses, your prices, your sales, and the decisions you make along the way.

But it’s a number worth knowing.

Because in the end, it’s not what you make. It’s what you keep.

See you next week.

— Barney

A new round of Canadian tariffs taking effect September 8 could have an unexpected consequence for U.S. artists: original artwork and reproductions may receive very different treatment at the border.

Also this week, the U.S. government is taking a clearer position in the fight over copyrighted work used to train AI, and upcoming art fairs are offering a useful lesson about something artists sometimes overlook—helping first-time buyers feel comfortable enough to become collectors.

Read more

Does it sometimes feel like you’re living in a dog-eat-dog world and you’re wearing Milk Bone underwear?

I know the feeling. I think most of us have been there at one time or another.

It sucks when you’re not feeling the love.

Maybe it’s critics who don’t appreciate your work. Maybe it’s the lame lookie-loos who waste your time, ask a hundred questions, and disappear. Or maybe it’s family and friends who just don’t get what you do and have no idea how to support you.

Whatever the source, it can wear you down.

Artists put a lot of themselves into what they make. Unfortunately, not everyone gets it, from clueless to dismissive. No matter how or why they are that way, when someone dismisses your work, questions your rates, offers unsolicited advice, or treats your career like a pleasant little hobby, it’s hard not to take it personally.

There’s something I learned from Stephen Covey long ago. That is, you can’t change your circumstances. And I would add that you can’t really change other people. And even if you could, it’s probably not worth trying. But what Covey taught me was that you can change how you react to circumstances or other people. And that’s what’s useful here.

The reality is that sooner or later, you are going to have to ask yourself: What the heck are you going to do about it? How am I going to respond? How long am I going to let other people get me down?

This is where “hope is not a plan” applies. That’s because you can explain yourself until you’re blue in the face. And you can wish other people were more supportive and understanding, giving you the respect you obviously deserve, and simply taking some interest in what you’re doing. I don’t think it’s too much to ask because I suffer from the same thing.

When I wrote my first book, I thought everyone I knew would be interested in reading it. It was a cold slap in the face to realize that many, in fact, most weren’t. It’s an esoteric topic on how to get your art into the print market that doesn’t apply to most people’s lives, and it doesn’t even apply to most artists’ lives. It’s very specific.

Your art is kind of the same thing. It’s very specific. It applies to the people who get it. Everybody else is an outsider. And some of them are cruel or stupid in how they react to you. And that’s a shame, but it’s the truth.

So we’re faced with the reality that you can’t make other people change, and furthermore, you shouldn’t even try. It’s not worth your time.

With my first book, I went through some version of the Kübler-Ross continuum. Something like disbelief, frustration, disappointment, and eventual acceptance. These folks, even ones close to me, just weren’t that into what I was doing. And to be honest, I probably wasn’t that interested in what they were doing either, so it works both ways.

And that’s a good thing to think about when someone doesn’t get your art or dismisses it. You probably don’t care that they’re a financial planner or whatever they do. It’s only mildly interesting to you, if that.

Eventually, I found enough people who thought my book was terrific, including the North Light Book Club. That was from The Artist’s Magazine. They bought 1,000 copies to stock their bookstore. I can’t tell you how good that felt.

My advice is not to worry about people who don’t get your art. It doesn’t mean you stop loving or liking them, though you’re welcome to if the situation warrants it.

You can turn the situation around by changing how much influence you give others over your feelings. Everybody’s got an opinion, but none of them matter unless they’re paying your bills or buying your work. And even then, it’s a limited deal, not giving up everything to someone else.

There’s an enormous amount of freedom that comes with understanding that you’re not going to chase people who aren’t interested. And that you can’t convince people who don’t understand. And that you give up giving every criticism equal weight. And you become more selective about where you put your time, attention, and energy.

Essentially, you realize that wearing Milk Bone underwear is optional and that you don’t have to do that anymore. You can wear what you darn well please and not worry about what anybody else thinks.

Your work has value, and you’re going to find people who appreciate it. I’m not saying that’s an easy task, because it never is.

Getting your work into the world is a challenge. It always will be. But it’s not an insurmountable one, and you can find ways that work for you to become associated with people who are most likely to buy your work and appreciate it.

And when you start becoming selective like that, everything gets a little easier. And living in a dog-eat-dog world doesn’t feel so difficult. And your butt probably hurts a little less, too.

Just because you are more aware of Milk Bone underwear, you can’t expect to change everything about yourself, especially all at once. Change takes time; it might involve money, convenience, familiarity, and sometimes even a relationship that no longer fits. That’s why you need to be realistic about what you can change now and what might take a little longer.

But realism doesn’t mean being timid. If anything, turn that timidity around and shoot higher.

You just need to accept that you’re never going to get rid of all the critics, tire-kickers, skeptics, and people who don’t get or understand what you’re trying to do. Those dogs are always going to be there with fleas and all.

But one thing I am certain of is that you’re going to be much happier in those new silk undies or boxer briefs than in the old Milk Bone underwear you’ve been wearing lately.

That is all. Peace out.

See you next week,

— Barney

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.