Chapter 1- Grief, in Gigabytes

A layer of grief I’ve been processing for probably the last 8 months is what it looks like for me to divest from traditional social media spaces and practice more intentional social interactions.

What does it look like to sign off of platforms I’ve used for well over 15 years? Platforms that give my business and creative work visibility. Naturally, there is fear. Naturally, there is some nostalgia for the end of an era. On social media, I shared pictures and stayed in touch with loved ones who were far away, I got to know our neighbors and peers a little more intimately, and I watched timelines of people’s lives from childhood into parenthood themselves. The unfortunate thing is, I think we can agree that what these platforms have become is totally unrecognizable from their origins.

As a single millennial woman with no kids, there is specific grief attached to the loss of “social” interaction if I divest from the current systems. To be transparent, there is a deep fear that I will feel even more lonely, out of the loop, or even forgotten.

I know I can’t be the only person who might share those fears, so I want to talk about it. The few threads tying us to each other and enabling us to continue communication are supplied by platforms. I’ve spent a great amount of time imagining: what does it really look like if I log out, for good?

Despite the dilution of connecting to real people online in your network, many of us have stayed. It really feels like a psychological experiment, because it absolutely is. Like an abused spouse. Remaining in a partnership with something that no longer authentically meets our needs. It steals, it manipulates, it wastes time, it gaslights our needs, it plays on our insecurities, and leaves us feeling pseudo-connected, while still lonely.

As a creative business owner, its easier to make a case to leaving for solely personal reasons. The reality is, I feel like the strings that have kept me connected to the threads and algorithms have actually been based on securing my income. Granted, I do not monetize any of my channels through the platforms, and my following is not massive. However, My network is made up of real people that I know, I’ve met at events, or people who have a mutual connection. My content gets engagement, my events get marketed, my BTS processes have a place to live, I learn about art opportunities, I find out about events in my city, I have a direct way to stay connected with people I met in-person, and the thought of leaving that behind has previously felt for a long time like… well, a bad business move.

Today, with more information and a new vision, I’m convinced it’s more of a poor business decision to stay. To truly make an impact that will allow creators to continue to make a living beyond these spaces, we do actually have to make these moves together. Its imperative that we understand our collective power to protect our intellectual contributions. Its important that we work together to make a plan for what’s ahead. We are creators. Over this series, I’m laying out my practical plan.

Pamoja Tutashinda, Together we win.

You feel like making some art so you pass by the kitchen stove that still has the remnants of pots from last night’s dinner, and the sink is stacked full. You opt for a banana for simplicity, escape into your workspace, and turn on the TV, mostly for listening to. Your desk is underneath all that paper somewhere. You shove them to the side, unveiling envelopes with bills you still need to address, and then your phone chimes. Notification from Instagram, you click on it, open the app, and eat your banana. Forty minutes have passed. You look up and take in that you are still at your messy desk, forty minutes less productive, shaming yourself immediately to the soundtrack of mindless TV in the background. The space you’re in is a minefield of various distractions threatening your creative ambitions.

Often, an important barrier to consistent creative work is making the space for it. To be clear, that barrier could be mental, spiritual, or physical. I’ve experienced all of these at one time or another. Over time, I’ve found some ways to be more mindful around these barriers, and I’d like to share these simple self-check-ins when creativity is hard to commit to.

The Power of “Space” Check-Ins

Whenever you feel blocked or uninspired, try these check-in questions:

- Mentally: Am I holding on to distractions or self-doubt?

- Spiritually: Am I aligned with my purpose or inspiration?

- Physically: Is my space supportive of my creative flow?

Mentally: Clearing the Clutter

Our minds are often overwhelmed with to-do lists, self-doubt, or distractions. To create mental space for your art, try these decluttering techniques:

1. Journal or Brain Dump: Breathing and mindfulness not enough? Still experiencing racing thoughts? Write down any lingering thoughts or worries before starting your work. This clears mental clutter and allows you to focus.

2. Set a Time Sensitive Boundary: Dedicate specific blocks of time for your creative practice. Treat this time as a sacred break, free from interruptions. Also HUGE asterix here... It doesn’t need to be a huge amount of time. A 30 - 90 mins screen-free time working session is a really helpful reset- and in my experience gets me into a creative flow that often lasts longer. In my day-to-day, I implement the 90-30-90 rule. This is oscillating between ninety minutes of focused work with 30-minute breaks. Changing your space or implementing movement is a good way to spend those 30 minutes. I switch from admin tasks, creative work, errands, and household tasks, so setting time boundaries holds me accountable and avoids mental burnout.

Spiritually: Reconnecting with Inspiration

Creativity is a flow state. It is energy. It’s not a constant. There are times when we flat out don’t have the energy, and that’s ok. Rest is productive too. I think it’s important to recharge in those moments. The mantra “think while you make, make while you think” put into words something I’ve been doing for a long time during creative blocks. It’s a gentle nudge to be creative in a completely different way than you may have intended. For me, that looks like cooking a meal, taking a walk outside, or putting on a new music playlist.

You never know how watching a reliable vine wrapped around a tree, the colors of your peppers in the pan, or the visuals you get listening to a particular genre of music will birth new ideas or affirm some already existing ones.

Art is deeply tied to our emotions, beliefs, neural processing, and sense of purpose. When you feel spiritually disconnected:

1. Revisit Your ‘Why’: Reflect on why you create art in the first place. What stories or emotions are you trying to express?

2. Surround Yourself with Beauty: Spend time in nature, visit galleries, or explore other artists’ work to reignite your creative spirit.

3. Engage in Rituals: Create a pre-art ritual that feels meaningful to you—lighting a candle that smells good, saying a mantra, preparing a snack before you sit down, or playing music that fits the mood you’re in. These small acts can help ground you.

Physically: Designing Your Creative Space

Physically setting up my space is the most frequent go-to for me. If you are a multi-disciplinary artist like me, it can be a big challenge, because you want to do it all. However, doing it all, all the time, is not only overwhelming, but it’s also not a very sustainable approach. I work in graphic design, painting, embroidery, card making, and more. I rearrange my space all the time to accommodate this.

I struggled with disorganization and clutter for many years until I learned that clutter is often not so much a problem with personal organization, but an issue of simply having too many things. I’ve downsized again and again over the years- without regret. Getting rid of stuff has given me freedom.

That weird-sized canvas my relative gave me 5 years ago that I haven’t made a plan for yet, the broken pastels I had since I was 6, all that scrapbook paper from my papercraft days… yeah, just donate or trash everything that is not going to serve you in the now. When everything has a place, it makes it achievable to actually clean up. Set up for the project you’re doing now, and shy away from leaving it up as a permanent monument in your space. Not surprisingly, when I clear up one project, it’s usually an environmental reset that inspires the next.

Your environment has a direct impact on your ability to create. To make physical space for your art:

1. Declutter Your Workspace: A clean, organized area can make your tools feel more inviting and reduce distractions. Make sure your tools all have a home. From fancy organizers to Dollar Tree store organizational hacks, put some thought into how to organize your creative space with intention, on your budget.

2. Create a Dedicated Zone: Even a small corner of a room can become a creative sanctuary with the right setup—good lighting, comfortable seating, and easy access as possible to your materials.

By cultivating awareness in these three areas, you’ll create the conditions needed for your creativity to thrive and leave some graceful space for you to process during times when productivity is low.

I speak often about this concept for creatives: “think while you make, and make while you think.” This means the ability as an artist to step away from your craft and find some inspiration elsewhere. Approach it as an experiment and see what works best. When you return to your art, you feel refreshed energy, or maybe inspired. You get to show up with a new frame of mind. It opens a range for consuming and creating that complement each other. For me, this year one of those outlets I’ve uncovered has been reading fiction books.

However, reading fiction, at all, is a fairly new concept to me. For Christmas, I received a cute Etsy-esque woodcut trinket with number cutouts. It looks like a mini bookshelf with a wooden countdown on the front, representing books that you’ve read for the year. To be honest, in years past, I would have looked at this gift as a mark of self-shame, a trinket to embarrass my lack of effort in the reading department. This burden, in relation to reading, started in middle school. I scored not-so-strong on the reading comprehension portions of tests, and ultimately read for necessity, not for joy.

The self-talk all the way into my 30’s was:

“You’re such a slow reader.”

“You’re not good at reading.”

“You’re too impatient or distracted to read.”

Ultimately, these things made me feel less intelligent than other people. I desired to be that person who can curl up with a book and find enjoyment instead of dread.

That changed starting in 2022.

First, I took action: I got a library card and started getting memoirs (because that genre has always been interesting to me). I found a book that I read through so quickly because it was so funny and entertaining. The book was Constance Wu’s essay collection Making a Scene (2022). I realized I was just reading stuff I didn’t like. The time frame of a library renewal period gave me the accountability I needed to prioritize this as a new hobby. (Plus, you can read brand new books for free.)

The next thing that changed was my self-talk. I had to address those negative thoughts that shamed instead of encouraged. A couple of books down, I realized I was gaining some confidence in an area I hadn't had before.

This year, I signed up for Book of the Month platform, kind of by accident (but that’s kinda my fault for not fully reading the fine print). The subscription platform curates a collection of books monthly, and you pick one to send. Most of these are fiction. This obligated me to try some more books that I would have honestly never picked out for myself otherwise. Again, I surprised myself with how many books I’ve been able to get through, with pleasure.

Audiobooks are also great. I use my library card for access to their audio library on the Libby App. As a podcast lover, this format works great for me. Recently, I attended an audiobook walk and coffee shop stop with The Atlanta Book Club. It was a lot of fun, and I enjoyed finding a new community through our shared love for books.

I just finished reading Kin by Tayari Jones 2026. I highly recommend it. If anyone likes her style, leave a comment with your recommendations!

To me, my reading journey is an example of how powerful self-talk is, and how we can sometimes block our own blessings if we don’t interrogate the inner negative voice. I’ve found new confidence, discovered beautiful stories I resonate with, and made some new connections with other people in the world. Don’t shy away from a little experiment, y’all.

This year so far I’m averaging two books a month and let me tell you, my middle school self is so damn proud.

As someone who has experienced art shows from multiple angles, as host, exhibiting artist, and guest, I have become attentive to the details that shape the experience. There are no rigid rules in art. That freedom is part of its beauty. But when an event delivers discomfort rather than delight, it is worth asking why.

A tremendous amount of work goes into planning an art exhibit, and many things can quietly go wrong. If the goal is to create something memorable for artists, stakeholders, and guests, the design of the experience matters just as much as the artwork itself.

Here are six elements that consistently shape whether a show is considered a success for all parties.

1. Wayfinding

Before guests can appreciate the art, they need to find it.

You may have secured the most charming corner of the city for your exhibition, but if attendees struggle to locate the entrance, the experience begins with frustration. Wayfinding is the cognitive process of navigating a space. Support your guests through it.

Clear directions in the invitation, visual maps, visible signage, or even a short walkthrough video shared in advance can eliminate confusion. The journey to the show should feel welcoming, not like a scavenger hunt.

2. Wayshowing

If wayfinding gets people to the venue, wayshowing shapes what happens once they arrive.

Wayshowing is the intentional design of an environment to guide movement and serve a function. Good design often goes unnoticed because it feels intuitive. In retail, essential items are placed strategically to guide shoppers through the store. The same principle applies to exhibitions.

The flow of a space can build narrative tension, direct attention to a climactic piece, or maximize sales potential. Poor flow, however, creates bottlenecks, crowding, and frustration. When guests feel closed in or physically uncomfortable, they spend less time engaging with the work.

Thoughtful spatial design increases endorphins, not liability. It protects the experience for artists, investors, and attendees alike.

3. Negative Space

Visual fatigue is real.

Unless your audience is intentionally seeking a maximalist experience, absorbing dense visual information without pause becomes exhausting. Many of us have visited a museum where, toward the end, even powerful works begin to blur together.

Maximizing wall space may feel productive, but impact requires restraint. Creating breathing room between works or sections allows visitors to recalibrate. Moments of stillness restore attention. They give the art space to resonate rather than compete.

Negative space is not empty. It is strategic.

4. Accessibility

Accessibility cannot be an afterthought.

Whether or not we personally experience disability, we all move through seasons of physical limitation, and many of our loved ones do. An inclusive exhibition considers this from the outset.

Invitations should clearly communicate accessibility details. Are there stairs? Ramps? Seating? Restrooms nearby? Are there flashing lights or loud audio elements?

Artists with disabilities, elderly guests, and individuals with visual or sensory impairments deserve thoughtful design. Solutions may include wheelchair access, content warnings, guided tours, augmented reality components, or prerecorded explanations.

Accessibility is not simply compliance. It is hospitality.

5. Engagement

An exhibition is not only about viewing. It is about interaction.

At an opening reception or pop-up exhibition, connection matters. Guests value opportunities to converse, ask questions, and deepen their understanding. Engagement can take many forms: interactive artwork, QR codes linking to long-form context, intentional gathering spaces, or thoughtful sound design that supports rather than competes with conversation.

Engagement also extends beyond the event itself. Marketing should clearly feature the artist and gallery owner, making future connections possible. A great show does not end when the lights go down. It builds momentum.

6. Clear Expectations

This final element may be the least glamorous, but it is often the most critical.

If artists intend to monetize their work, the purchasing process must be obvious and efficient. Clear signage, a designated sales area, or an identifiable point of contact removes friction and protects revenue.

Financial agreements between artists and organizers must also be transparent. A 70/30 split is common, though arrangements vary. Whatever the terms, they should be documented in writing. Screenshots, contracts, and confirmation emails protect everyone involved.

Pop-up events may include application fees, permits, or shared operational costs. Profit splits can be justified when they reflect legitimate business expenses. Clarity is what matters.

And then there is liability. Accidents happen. If the artwork will be in someone else’s possession, clear statements regarding insurance and responsibility are essential. Protecting the art protects the artist.

Art shows do not succeed by accident. They succeed by design.

When logistics, environment, accessibility, engagement, and expectations are handled mindfully, the artwork is free to do what it was always meant to do. Connect people and empower creatives to do the work that sustains them.

“History, despite its wrenching pain, cannot be unlived, but if faced with courage, need not be lived again” - Maya Angelou

I visited the Legacy Museum in Montgomery, Alabama, recently. I highly recommend a visit, as it is a quick road trip from Atlanta, and tickets are $5 for a beautifully curated museum spanning across 3 different campuses with free shuttles to each. The museum exists to document and memorialize the Trans-Atlantic slave trade, stories of human trafficking in America, emancipation, segregation, and mass incarceration of African Americans.

While all of this detailed content is heavy and emotional at times, I appreciated that the information was presented in ways that inform and don’t re-traumatize visitors in the way I have experienced at other historical museums. In fact, I would say the majority of the museum experience entails visual art and sculptures that truly speak so much without words. My favorite portion was the Freedom Sculpture Garden and monument with the last names only of all African Americans from the first census that recorded them. Through detailed craftsmanship and sheer scale, this area, intertwined in an outdoor landscape, allowed space to absorb deep truths and solace. As I passed through this part of the museum, a thought arose:“This is exactly why art exists.”

I was reminded of how consistently separation has been used as a weapon throughout American history. Enslaved Africans were torn from their families. Post-Civil War policies—from segregation, to housing discrimination, to mass incarceration—continued to isolate and destabilize Black, Brown, and immigrant communities. Even today, immigrant families are torn apart by unjust laws, while profit-driven prison systems make connection expensive, complicated, and strained. In general, as explained in the book Paved Paradise, the very design of environments determines the amount of social interaction a person will engage in and dictates what those interactions will be like. Again and again, the powers at be have repeatedly and maliciously manipulated togetherness as a means of control.

Separation is deeply devastating. For me, this only highlights the inverse; togetherness is extremely powerful.

If anything, the experience affirmed my own feeling of purpose. I built Pamoja Keepsakes as a way to highlight and support individual brands and organizations as they tell their unique stories. I love connecting people in my circle so that as we each stand in our lane and power, we’re able to amplify each other’s work and mission. I also feel the pivot to project management and coaching for creatives this year has allowed me to positively impact artists and businesses and deliver curated strategies for individuals and brands on a deeper level. If you or your team are looking for administrative or strategic support, please explore the solutions we deliver. As we continue to stay connected to the good in ourselves and each other, we will find fresh ways to grow and thrive.

The sweaty palms, the procrastination, the urge to cancel, soaking in those last few silent moments in the car before you walk in, and already overthinking the conversations you’ll have. My fellow introverts, welcome to the chat. Let’s explore 6 ways to level up your game.

As a person who recharges by nature and solitude and has repeatedly avoided tasks like ordering a sandwich over the counter after driving all the way to the store because it suddenly feels like that’s just too much interaction and overwhelm for today… I completely understand the anxiety and dread that can come with building new relationships that will benefit your business. It can be awkward at any age or stage of life to get vulnerable enough to meet new people. I want to share 5 things I practised in the first 6 months of 2025 that have revolutionised my relationship with business networking.

1. Show Up. This seems like the obvious answer…but you actually have to go to the thing. I promise you won’t be the only person there who feels out of place. You have to get outside your comfort zone and follow through on your commitments. If you don’t show up, there is no learning, no new resources found, and no new connections to bring you future referrals or relationships. There are lots of other reasons why we dread actually showing up; hopefully, I will address ways to overcome those pain points in the rest of this list. At the end of the day, I committed to myself after the pandemic that I need to be more serious about following through on social commitments, and honestly, 99% of the time, showing up exceeded my expectations. I have crazy zig-zagging plots that I could map out documenting new connections, great resources, business groups, referrals, and ultimately sales that I have closed from just following through on a single invitation where I followed through.

2. Dress for Success. If you know you’re going to be uncomfortable going into an event, don’t physically wear something that will have you in your head and not in the present moment. Keep it simple. Wear something that brings you ease and joy- it will leave a better impact on your first impression. I learned myself that on the day of an event, I need to give myself ample time to get ready. Whether that’s planning my outfit the night before, giving myself a fresh manicure, etc. I learned that when I dress in a way that I feel confident, beautiful, put together, creative, essentially, I give my outfit its own voice, and that helps me out when I’m in a new space. Plan out the look in advance. What do I want to say from across the room? What words do I want to evoke for a first impression? A confident presentation will welcome and- dare I say- attract others to you, without the pressure of feeling like you have to be the one to approach every individual in the room.

3. Find Your Tribe. Someone asked me recently if their business was the type that would benefit from participating in a pop-up market. I offer 1:1 coaching on this topic, so I let this person know that they absolutely could benefit from that space. As long as they find an event where their target audience might gather, it would be a great investment. I think most people feel networking is a waste of time because the events they attend are not in alignment with their goals in the first place. If you aren’t the country club type, then by all means, don’t waste your money and join an irrelevant club to promote your business. If you hate huge, busy, high-ticket events, try something small and local like a conference. If you absolutely cannot commit or don’t have transportation to go to in-person events, find some well-attended virtual ones. Here’s a controversial suggestion: go find a group you personally connect to because of a common interest, to see if you can build organic connections without leading with business first. Folks who will take an interest in your work are far more likely to do so when they meet you as your most authentic self. Get creative and see how leading with what you already like could lead you to new business because the connection just feels real. For me, a great source has been Creative Mornings, which gives me the versatility of weekly/ monthly/virtual and/or in-person options to connect with other like- minded folks in my industry. Find the people who “get you,” and then stay open to the possibilities.

4. Practice. Sounds ridiculous, but communication is a skill after all. Body language, articulating who you are and what you do, active listening, and going into new spaces are all things that require us to be more vulnerable. I have found it takes practice to flex that muscle more consistently with less dread. I joined the Timeleft app last year, which is an international platform connecting 6 strangers for dinner at a restaurant in your city. What attending 13+ dinners over months of participation prepared me for getting used to showing up and meeting strangers for something other than business or dating. What that looks like in reality is me showing up in a new space as a business leader while not feeling the pressure of leading with a sales pitch. Relax a little. Networking isn’t magical; it’s people talking and connecting in a way that makes them remember the interaction at a later time.

5. Know Thyself. So you’re in the room, you showed up, but you still need to engage with new faces and make some great impressions. In order to push yourself beyond the comfort zone with the basics, you also need to be honest about how you are showing up currently. For instance, if you know when you get hangry, you start to crash and burn- eat before the event or bring snacks. I show up to events having already eaten, even if some light refreshments are available. All bets are off if I’m tired or hungry because those things will take my focus. I’m fidgety when I get anxious and don’t always know what to lead with in conversation, so I just started bringing stickers with me when I go anywhere. People love free stuff, it’s a way to share my work thoughtfully, and it’s great to greet someone with a gift which paves the way for a memorable interaction (while giving my hands a task). What’s an engaging action, question, or activity that you could use to improve your interactions in a new group?

6. Set a Goal. Especially if you are just beginning to put some networking skills into practice. What is the intention of showing up to the thing? Are you finding customers who can increase your sales? Strategic partners in your industry? Looking for a mentor? Looking for talent to hire now or in the future? Hold onto contact info from the day and send out a follow-up message that week. Figure out what the goal is and set an achievable outcome. These can be measurable, like setting attendance time limits, collecting a certain number of email addresses, handing out a certain number of products or business cards, or locking in 5 new contacts. Give yourself a task or a challenge so you have a way to measure how you did. For me, at social events, if I get overwhelmed, especially at the beginning, I will find every reason to dip out. What has worked for me is setting a time limit for how long I plan to stay at an event. Let it cook. Give time for the nerves to wear off. For the record, I almost always surpass this limit, even though I perceive my capacity to be less than this, but I always have this “out” for myself, should I feel overwhelmed. If you get overstimulated during the event, take breaks to reset your social energy.

Despite what I have learned this year, please understand that not everything is for everybody. What works for me may not work for you, and vice versa. Regardless of the things I’ve practised that have worked well, I still don’t like huge crowds where the interactions are short and shallow; I prefer smaller groups where a good conversation can be had. That is okay. I’m telling you, from one introvert to another, it’s possible to leave intentional networking events feeling encouraged, feeling seen, and equipped with the connections that drive your business to its next level. I hope these things I’ve put into practice can encourage others to stay better connected as a business owner or creative in your city.

“What are you?”

“What is your background?”

“Where are you/ is your family from?”

Eventually, I learned that caving in to answering these questions only deeply depleted my energy. It was a reminder of all the things I didn’t and still don’t know. I performed a poem about this in college; it still lives on the internet. All I know is once you get deep into the trenches of “ was your mom this?” or “was your father that?”, you’ve reached a point of no return. You end the interaction feeling stereotyped, less understood, and, funny enough, the interrogator never sticks around to spill the tea about their own consummation story…

I stopped entertaining these lines of questions as well as the askers’ intentions a long time ago.

I explained this to another biracial, albeit white passing, person recently, who was also estranged from one of their birth parents, and they resonated with the line of questioning, but felt like it didn’t shake them to answer in the same way it shook me. That didn’t surprise me. The demand for identifying yourself is less about curiosity and more about someone understanding who they are allowed to “other” in your presence. The questions are posed for self-protection, because they’re rooted in white supremacy.

I am a biracial person of color who grew up in a southern white conservative Christian family. I grew up in diverse public schools in Florida, but also in churches that were always predominantly white. As a child, I lived in Kenya and rural western Canada because my parents worked for missionary organizations in those places. I’m a “third country kid,” a term I learned recently that certainly describes, most accurately, how I see myself. It means that experiencing different cultures at a formative age uniquely shapes your perspective. Often those characteristics you pick up are adaptability, openminded approach to relationships, and less limiting beliefs.

I voted Republican when I reached the age to vote. It wasn’t until college that I learned American history through the lens and detailed experience of Black Americans. Around that time, I also stopped attending church, I rejected white nationalism (conservatism), and have never looked back. I intuitively knew growing up that these spaces I grew up in did not acknowledge my experience, but college and relationships gave me the language and the context that affirmed the intuition I’ve always held.

In 2016, a family member asked me why I identify as biracial. The question itself is absurd. The real undertone of it is- “Why don’t you pretend to just be white? It seems like that would be smarter/safer?” I will never forget it, and admittedly, it did permanent damage.

I struggled for many years, but I’ve come to understand that I hold a lot of power in my intersectional life experiences. What I’ve shared here frankly barely scratches the surface. Race in and of itself is made up and a terrible measuring stick for “diversity” because, in fact, many of us live within intersectional identities. I acknowledge colorism exists and am aware of the space I take up. I get why dark-skinned Black women, especially, approach a person like me with skepticism. It’s not permission to dismiss me, but I get it. I’m also not a person who thinks that the revolution will happen without white folks being involved and invested in it. I firmly believe people can unlearn and advocate well if they commit to it, despite their background. It keeps me hopeful, despite so much disappointment.

For those biracial youth struggling with identity and tough family dynamics where you feel unseen, please hear me when I say: Biracial identity is its own valid experience. This is true especially if one of those identities puts you in proximity to Black-ness or Brown-ness. Something I wish my younger self had understood.

In the state of America right now, there is an added layer of loss. On top of the economic pressures as a creative freelancer, the safety of communities that I love deeply, and what the future even is, I find myself again falling out of relationships with folks who are committed to misunderstanding me. I spoke my concern and my fear from my POV into the family chat recently and was met with the majority's deafening silence. It’s not the first time I’ve sat here feeling disenfranchised and without an ally in my family dynamic. I’ve taken space away before; some mutual healing happened, but I’m still determining what balancing effort with ease and safety looks like moving forward.

The tree of truth keeps bearing its roots, reminding me that love is consideration. Consideration of another’s experience, health, safety, perspective, capacity, etc. Love and allyship is consideration in action. Many of us are losing connections with folks who should absolutely know how to be an ally by now. Shedding that weight is a healthy move. You are not alone. I am not alone. We are enough. We are better being human than becoming the scapegoat or teacher for those who are unwilling to do the personal, inconvenient, uncomfortable work that comes with seeing revolutionary change all the way through.

If you’ve been waiting for a comfortable time to speak up to your representatives, advocate for your neighbors, or express your disdain for injustice out loud, there isn’t one. Protest is legal and inconvenient for everyone involved. That’s the point.

There will be no sign erected that says “We are at war” or “Your constitution no longer exists”…. it’s just going to happen.

Know who your people are. If they don’t evolve naturally, make the effort to seek them out because everyone deserves to be seen and heard.

I’ve been saying it, and I’ve been feeling it for a while now. Art isn’t going away. In the age of AI while some things can be generated at the click of a button, many of us have also seen how requesting continuity, cohesiveness, and original concepts leaves a lot to be desired. While generative AI may continue to evolve and improve, it will never displace the value of art we can see offline or hold in our hands. I addition, in a national climate that pumps our feeds with all the ways they are killing, stealing, and destroying our access to a peaceful and sustainable life, creating is a superpower that has never been more vital.

We’re admittedly tired of the slop. We’re craving a life that doesn’t always deliver instant gratification. A culture of convenience robs us of two important things: community and crocess. Online social engagement has tricked us into a false sense of network and community, leaving a lot of us feeling more lonely than we’ like to admit. In regard to process, my sketching and painting work, especially, I acknowledge art as an energy flow. Yes, there is knowledge and technique, but once you have your tools and a few skills, it’s just you and a blank canvas. Painting is literally fluid. Oil, water, pigments. It’s messy. It’s not always possible to control. A new artist will chase every detail down and be exacting, but a seasoned artist learns to lean into the unplanned events. We bear through the ugly stages when no one else sees our vision. Painting is boldly going, and fixing the minutiae along the way. It’s making a million little adjustments. Sometimes it births “happy accidents” as the late celebrity artist Bob Ross used to say. It is a willingness to abandon the original plan and work with what you’ve got. Art is a very human process of trial and error. It is resilience in action. Maybe that’s why the fake stuff is so easy to spot.

Creating art with our hands is as old as time. I read this article recently that spoke to how essential art is to our health. A 2023 study found that art is just as vital for our overall health as nutrition and sleep. In their book, Your Brain on Art: How the Arts Transform Us, Susan Magsamen and Ivy Ross explore the correlations between our Brain Science and Art. In fact, they found that “just 45 minutes of making art lowers cortisol levels”.

If you make art, keep going. In a talk last year, Fahamu Pecou said that “the best thing you can do during a struggling economy is to continue to create.” Whether you are monetizing it or not, what we are making, especially right now, is really important to the world around us. It gives you time to improve your skills and expand your collection. Make something true to you. I bet someone else on this planet would find it to be true as well.

For those that don’t make art (and those that do)… go look at more of it. It’s healthy. It’s inspiring. It’s grounding without requiring any words.

This week will make the 5th art exhibit I’ve seen in 2026… less than 30 days into the year. Baby, I will happily lower my cortisol anyway I can at this point. I encourage you to seek out some art in the next month. I’m filling my calendar with this stuff this year, because I need it. I need to share what I make, and I need to see what others are working on. It can be buying a ticket to a museum, attending a local gallery, pausing to look at the art while you wait in the coffee shop, or visiting your local library. It doesn’t have to be fancy to be seen and enjoyed.

Dear artist, your work matters more than you know. Be gentle with yourself.

Visit pamojakeepsakes.com to see my work, learn about upcoming exhibitions, and take advantage of opportunities for artists to share their work in ATL and beyond.

Choosing a word for the year is something I’ve been doing for a long time. When I picked mine for 2025, I had no idea how complicated it would feel later. Looking back, the version of me in fall 2024 was incredibly hopeful, maybe even a little naive. The word I landed on was vulnerability, and at the time, it felt full of promise. I imagined deeper relationships and moments that would open me up to all the good things inside myself.

Then 2025 arrived with complications, as it did for many of us; so that word took on a very different meaning. Vulnerability turned out to be less about beautiful connections and more about humility. It meant navigating loss, grieving my version of original plans, facing hard truths, and learning how to ask for help in ways I never had before.

As I face a new year, the word that keeps coming up for me is “reimagine.” The first week of this year has been like a boxing match, absorbing one blow after another. While there is a need to pause for rest, reflection, and relationship building, I think it’s valuable to place fresh energy into reimagining what the long-term future can look like.

“Definitions are vital starting points for the imagination. What we cannot imagine cannot come into being. A good definition marks our starting point and lets us know where we want to end up.” — All About Love, bell hooks

This quote aligns with my goals for this year. How can we measure a better sustainable, peaceful world if we don’t first fully articulate what that looks like for each of us? I’ve been meditating on what these professional and personal possibilities look like after taking space to grieve my previous expectations.

What if I accept that the white picket fence is no longer accessible, but buying plots of land with my chosen family in smaller dwellings is what is only possible, but more life-giving?

What if I abandon hustle culture as a solo entrepreneur and build out collectives within our industries where groups of contractors come together to share capacity and scale together?

What if I stop imagining love without the weight of a future forever contract and approach romance instead as an exploration of what I can learn from and give to another person who reciprocates that effort? Expecting less, but gaining more.

What if I spend time offline and invest more time in making tangible artwork? Fine art and handmade art are the new high-end signs of luxury this year. With brands like Hermes and Porsche already leading the way, classically hand-made artwork is getting the shine it deserves. For example, check out this set design made with a home printer.

I intend to approach this “reimagine” year with excitement instead of victimhood. After all, white supremacy in all of its forms has historically existed because of its inability to create. As artists, we hold the power to build the world we want with the resources we already have.

What might those new realities look like for you?

It’s really fun to get outside and share your work with others. I think it’s an accessible offline way to connect with your current and future customers. Not only is it possible to start at different points throughout the year (spring, summer, fall and holiday markets), but in hard economic times, folks typically turn their dollars more local to source their goods and entertainment. Utilizing a local market or local events well could be a game changer for your creative business. I’ve found benefits I had never thought of when I started.

For context, a giant part of my journey running Pamoja Keepsakes since 2019 is greatly due to the fact that I utilized local pop-up markets well. I started making digital artwork on an ipad in 2014. I was making commissioned portraits, home decor, and playing around with patterns that I used to produce my own “scrapbook” paper for cards. The cards sold really well. The whole process informed and eventually uncovered other products and services that my business could offer.

I learned of local pop up markets through social media, initially, and got the guts to give it a shot. I packed up my items and took my shop to the streets at local maker markets. This part of my story encompasses the highs of affirming entrepreneurship was my path, to the lows of my early outdoor market where my tent flew away in the middle of a crowded market. I’ve done enough pop ups at this point—often learning the hard way—to know what it takes to succeed, which is why this coaching means so much to me. I’d love to share how creatives can utilize the pop up marketplace for big impact, without a long term commitment. Although most of my biggest sales are digital assets, I have been able to meet new clients and network with other entrepreneurs by selling a handful of products at local markets.

Setting up for a market regularly is a ton of work, but choosing to only sell at pop-up markets seasonally has been a way for me to do both digital and handmade art while avoiding burnout. Vending in person has sustained Pamoja Keepsakes over the years. I have clients from my first 6 months in business that still rock with me today and several of those folks I’ve only met in person once – at a pop up market.

We’re kind of in the perfect economic bubble to vend in person if you’ve never tried. Whether you want to launch your products to the public for the first time, test new products and gather consumer feedback through A/B testing, or make new connections in your community, this is the perfect space to do the thing.

I offer a course with 1:1 coaching available to walk through just that. The beauty is because its a 1:1 format, together we build a curated strategy for your business at markets, plan your booth setup, and have a post-event meeting to review what you learned so you can make any adjustments for the future. The content I cover is outlined on our booking page, but here are a few topics:

• Getting Started: A Sustainable, Authentic, and Self Care Honoring Setup

• Finding Events and Networking Strategies

• Boosting Engagement on Event Day

• Organically Gaining Customers for the Long Run

If you’re looking to launch your business at a market in the new year, but don’t quite know how to maximize your profit and energy there, book a brief discovery call to see how my 1:1 curriculum can add value to this sales channel for you.

Creative work is often personal, even intimate - regardless of the subject matter. Making a thing and sharing it with others can be an intimidating action to take whether you’re a seasoned artist or a first timer. If you ask us to put a monetary value on it- oh, the discomfort often exponentially increases. Selling your work can also feel incredibly awkward and even more vulnerable when being asked on the spot when you haven’t considered that yourself. Giving work away for free sounds noble, less stressful, or even humble, but for most, it’s not a way to build the type of sustainable lifestyle we all deserve. Free art doesn’t pay the rent. I would argue that getting genuinely comfortable with the commerce of creative work actually begins with courage and confidence, or at least some illusion of the latter.

Almost every artist I’ve met who sells their work has a hard time placing a value on it. Both the terror and beauty of it all is, there’s absolutely NO rules! I can sit here and write practically about how you can sell canvas paintings by the square inches, by hours or by experience in graphic design, by labor and material costs vs. profit margins for muralists, and so on, but that’s not really why I’m writing this. I mean I presume you’ve spent some time Googling that stuff already. The part that is missing, at the root of it anyway, is the willingness to be brave. For most of us, even, the audacity to imagine what a successful sustainable art centered career looks like. How does one take the leap from paper mache to monetization? How does someone go from filling their sketchbook to showing their work in a solo exhibition for the first time? Simple answer: They just go for it. Execute the steps.

As a true crime, court tv watching, Bachelor’s with a focus on criminology- degree holding girly- for decades I have observed what every bad actor has in common: the audacity. The romance cons, the smooth egos, the cybersecurity frauds, and the actions that change lives forever in a moment. They went for it. Granted, some folks are mentally ill and can’t help themselves, but I’m talking about the folks who knew better and didn’t do better. I’m not condoning bad behavior, and I can’t supply the audacity for an artist, but I can point out that objectively, the common denominator between an arsonist and an artist is taking action. I think my consumption of true crime content coupled with my hope as an artist comes from the reminder and the juxtaposition that the deepest depths of audacity can be used for sheer evil - or in our case, conversely, for the greater good.

Keep in mind, having boldness as a creative doesn’t mean that you have to duct tape a banana to a canvas, and call it done - Unless that’s your thing, of course - but more often than not, it means being vulnerable enough to be yourself. I think of the great creatives across art forms, styles, genres, mediums, and timelines whose work became beloved or even more beloved, post mortem. Would we know a Prince, Van Gogh, a Billie Holiday, or a Katherine Hepburn had they followed the existing marching orders and kept their perspectives to themselves? My point being, we should probably consider it a blessing to set up our lives in such a way that we’re engaging in our most compassionate, authentic, impactful and purpose filled experience. You know, embrace the fear in a glass- half- full type of way.

At the end of the day, pricing your work doesn’t have to be scary. We have to start somewhere. Whether your art is $50 or $5 million, part of that scope of work invoice will always include a silent line item for courage. I recently heard Fahamu Pecou speak at the Atlanta Beltline Business

Brunch. Pecou shared a story from early on in his career when he recreated a flyer he received for an upcoming event. He ended up attending and presented a flyer redesign to the host and was hired on the spot for their future series of events. He shared this came from the confidence of knowing he could design something more elevated than what they currently had. The lesson here was he didn’t wait for an invitation, but instead created the opportunity. This is why I admire his journey so much. Each time I learn more about his story I learn of new ways he utilized guerilla marketing, community support (aka asking for help), playing off of the public’s curiosity, or simply an assumptive sales approach to expand his business beyond his work on the canvas. While humbly juggling a passion for educating and a genuine desire to collaborate, he will, in the very next breath, share his mantra and hashtag #fahamupecouistheshit. It’s rare to find a contemporary fine artist who not only opened a museum in Atlanta, but has also designed book covers, wine labels, and Netflix show artwork—while having paintings featured in museums world wide. In his talk, he admitted that much of his process and success has been rooted in curiosity and experimentation. Pecou is one of my favorite examples of how boldness as a creative person has earned countless connections and opportunities that didn’t exist without initially taking a chance.

The details of every creator’s journey will look a little different, but the common thread is the faith and the courage to be vulnerable with your vision and the willingness to explore where you land with it. If you are setting some new goals on your creative journey, or have upcoming projects piling up but need help with project management I’m here to help you succeed on that journey. Book a discovery call and see how I can support your vision and processes through project management services, so you can focus on your creative flow and leave the administrative and organizational tasks to me. Be courageous in your next steps. Get prepared, be encouraged, and be brave!

When I was in high school, I had an art teacher, Mrs. Stone, who had taught there for 49 years. The woman was in her 70s and wore colorful iconic 80s style matching sweatsuit sets daily, the type that swished a little bit every time she walked. She was a legend. Her name, age, and rigid nature held its own special irony. She was kind of known as a tyrant of sorts in the halls because of her strictness and with credibility because she had taught generations of students. While many students take the art class as a throw away or fluff course she took her classes seriously and would weed out students quickly who weren’t there to learn. In the same vein, she would nurture those students who showed genuine interest and ability. She once gave me and about three other students a professional art portfolio. It looked like a slim suitcase. She’d found it in a pile of things that someone was throwing away. She invested in her student’s futures.

It wasn’t until years after graduation at her funeral that I learned how much humility she actually exhibited. The vast array of accomplishments and impact she had on her community and Georgia in the southeast United States were quite powerful. For instance, her persistence with the boys club in charge was one of the main reasons that visual arts became a staple subject across Georgia public schools. Mrs. Stone was a very mighty force in her classroom, and beyond it.

As I’ve spent time recently on my “why’s” for Pamoja Keepsakes I find myself reflecting back on opportunities that I had to share my work publicly over the years, I realize that the journey began in high school with Mrs. Stone and my other art teacher, Mrs. Lambert. When I think back to where sharing my art began I refer to it as “forced entry” because Mrs. Stone was kind of known for taking artwork that a student had finished (or at times, maybe not) and entering it into an art exhibition, contest, or scholarship opportunity. Once in a while, a student would get a note or a reminder for Mrs. Stone that they needed to be at a place at a time for some reception where their art was going to be shown, unbeknownst to the student.

Those forced entries got me into spaces that I never would have imagined and deeply influenced my journey of exhibiting my art over the years. She removed choice and simultaneously, imposter syndrome. In high school alone, I had artwork on display at the Georgia Capitol building, a local fair, a County Art Exhibit, Columbus State College, and Hartsfield Jackson Airport. The airport trip was a huge experience because Mrs. Lambert‘s late husband was a pilot and managed to get Delta to put our class on a small jet, feed us lunch, and view our work on display inside of the airport. These small, but mighty, opportunities even on the subtlest level, boosted the confidence of myself and others who saw the value of just creating art and sharing it without expectations.

In fact, my first job out of high school was designing and applying faux stained glass applications to residential and commercial windows. The same design techniques used to decorate the sets of the Harry Potter movies. I got that job because Mrs. Lambert let me know about it at the end of my senior year and encouraged me to apply. You never know how much a nudge to apply, attend, submit, or pitch can land you places you didn’t think were possible.

Mrs. Stone would be proud to know that my artwork is currently hanging in Midtown Atlanta as a part of an installment for an outdoor gallery that features 150 local artists. To this day, I’m still applying to calls for art to share my non-client work. I share those opportunities on my platforms @pamojakeepsakes monthly because your work is worth sharing too! Sharing your art in public spaces is much more accessible than you might think.