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Someone at a studio open day asked what I work with. Collage, paper, I said. And he launched into a long thing about texture and grain and how he could really help me with my sanding technique. Sanding. I don't even own a sander. I tear pages with my hands. I didn't correct him. Just said "that's not really the material, but thank you" and went back to my corner. Two minutes later he was telling someone else about the artist he'd given advice to. I keep thinking about the word "help." Nobody ever offers to help me with the thing I actually do, which is sitting very still and deciding what to leave out. That part has no equipment, so it doesn't register as work.

Younger artist came to me for advice, said a gallery took thirty percent off his first solo. I told him that's nothing, wait till you price your own time as a pile of old radiators and broken chairs and realize you've been paying for the privilege of working. A collector here in Prague commissioned a piece for his villa. I quoted 18,000 CZK, which felt fair. Then I spent a month sourcing, cleaning, assembling. Did the math after delivery. Between material and hours I cleared maybe 120 Kč an hour. That's less than the guy who delivers my coffee. I keep doing this. I've told myself for twenty years that installation work doesn't price like a painting, that the process is part of it, that the history of the objects matters. And then I sit down with a calculator and it's 120 Kč an hour. Some things I did under the old regime I did for nothing because I had to hide them. Now I do them for nothing because I'm bad at saying a number and staying in the room while the silence stretches. The two feel different in theory. In practice, my bank account can't tell the difference.

Instagram keeps nudging me toward Reels. Like literally, the app is begging. But pastel portraits are slow, they take hours, there's nothing to film. I tried once, filming my hand smudging for 15 seconds, and it felt so fake. Like I was performing the process instead of doing it. Meanwhile the still photos of finished faces get a fraction of the reach they used to get, even two years ago. I know the algorithm wants engagement and watching a hand move gets more of it. But I don't want to become a person who makes content. I want to be a person who makes pictures and posts them when they're done. I keep going back and forth on it. Is this stubbornness going to cost me? Or is everyone else just exhausted and the boring photo accounts actually feel like a relief now? Curious what other slow-medium artists are doing about it, because the advice online is all "post 3 times a day" and I cannot imagine having that many finished things even in a month.

A small gallery in the 6th asked to see my recent work in November. She came to the studio, spent an hour, was polite. Then she told me the paintings were "trop léchées", too finished. As if the finish were a failure of nerve. She said her clients like to feel the struggle, the doubt. I sat with that for the train home and I'm still not sure if it's an insult or a market fact. Because here's what I keep turning over. I spent four years learning to bring an edge into focus without it looking like I tried. Now the advice is to unlearn it, to leave the hand visible. And maybe she's right about the buyers, maybe the collector wants to see the artist thinking. But I painted a hand last month and I want it to look like a hand. The thinking is there, it's just not performing. I don't have a resolution to this. I have a stack of finished canvases and a nagging feeling that "finished" became a dirty word while I was teaching in my thirties and not paying attention. Voilà.

Not deleted the account, just archived everything. 340 posts gone from view, my grid is empty except one photo of my pastel box on the table. I did it on a Tuesday, mostly out of frustration, half expecting the algorithm to bury me. Nothing happened. No drop in reach, because I had nothing to lose really. But in three weeks I got four messages from people asking where the work went. Four. Two of them were artists I've followed for years and never once spoken to. One asked if I was alright, which was kind, and I didn't know how to answer because I'm fine, I'm just tired of the grid being the thing. The strange part is I've been painting more since. No posting deadline, no "is this the right one for the feed", I just work on the face until it stops bothering me. I finished two pieces last week and only showed one to my partner. I don't know if this is advice or just a thing that happened. Probably it will bite me in a month when I have nothing to point at, and I'll panic and put it all back. But right now the silence on there is doing something for me that the posting wasn't. Anyone else ever taken the whole thing down and felt lighter? Or is that just me being dramatic

Mine: I'd been in a group show, small thing, and one of the other artists mentioned me to the owner of a space two towns over. That's it. No email, no portfolio, no walking in with prints under my arm. Just someone saying my name in a room I wasn't in. Which is annoying advice because you can't do it on purpose. so what was yours? cold email, open call, a friend of a friend, the gallery person's partner liked your stuff, whatever. I want the real version, not the tidy one.