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There is a painting sitting in your studio right now. Or maybe it’s a sketch in a notebook, or a digital file on your iPad that you haven’t opened in three weeks.
It is good. You know it is good.
When you were making it, you felt that specific hum in your chest, that flow state where time disappears and the hand moves faster than the brain. You poured hours into the shading. You obsessed over the color palette. You gave it a piece of your soul.
Then, you took a photo of it. You spent twenty minutes editing the contrast. You wrote a caption that felt slightly vulnerable but not too vulnerable. You posted it on Instagram.
And then… silence.
Maybe you got a few likes from friends. Maybe a “🔥🔥🔥” comment from a bot. But no one asked to buy it. No one asked for a print. No one DM’d you to say, “I need this in my life, how much is it?“
So, you scrolled. And while you scrolled, you saw someone else, an artist whose work is objectively less technical, less detailed, and less “good” than yours, selling out their entire collection in ten minutes.
It stings, doesn’t it?
It feels unfair. It feels like the world has bad taste. It feels like the algorithm is rigged against you.
But here is the hard truth that most artists don’t want to hear, but absolutely need to hear if they want to survive:
The problem isn’t your art. The problem is your system.
I am not a painter. I am a developer. I build systems for a living. And when I look at the art world, I see thousands of incredibly talented people failing not because they lack vision, but because they are trying to run a creative engine on a broken business chassis.
You have been sold a lie called the “Starving Artist.” You have been told that if you are pure enough, true enough, and talented enough, the money will just… happen.
It won’t.
If you are tired of the silence, and if you are ready to stop treating your art like a charity and start treating it like the valuable asset it is, we need to talk.
Here are the five reasons why most artists fail online, and exactly how to fix them.
1. The “Field of Dreams” Fallacy
There is a famous line from an old movie: “If you build it, they will come.”
In the digital age, this is the most dangerous lie you can believe.
Most artists operate on Hope Marketing. You post your work into the void of the internet and hope that the right collector sees it at the exact moment they have their credit card out. You hope the algorithm shows it to new people. You hope that talent alone is a marketing strategy.
But the internet is not a gallery. It is a noisy, chaotic highway.
Imagine standing on the side of a busy highway holding up your beautiful painting. The cars are driving past at 100 km/h. They aren’t ignoring you because they hate your art; they are ignoring you because they are driving. They are distracted. They are going somewhere else.
The Fix: Stop Waiting to Be Discovered.
You have to stop viewing “marketing” as something dirty that happens after the art is done. Marketing is part of the art. It is the art of storytelling.
You need to build a path for people to walk down. You cannot just stand on the highway. You need to build a sign. Then a driveway. Then a front door.
This means you must be active, not passive. You cannot just post the finished product. You have to post the process. You have to engage with other artists. You have to reach out to people who buy art similar to yours. You have to be a signal in the noise.
Talent is the entry fee. Visibility is the rent.
2. The “Selling Out” Mindset Block
This is the big one. This is the psychological wall that stops 90% of artists before they even start.
Deep down, many creatives believe that money corrupts art. You believe that if you prioritize profit, you are a “sellout.” You believe that real art should be pure, untainted by capitalism.
I understand this. I write code. When I write a beautiful, clean function that runs perfectly, it feels like poetry to me. And when a client asks me to hack it apart to make a button bigger, it hurts.
But here is the reality check: If you don’t sell your art, you cannot afford to make more of it.
Buying canvas costs money. Buying software licenses costs money. Eating food costs money.
When you refuse to sell, or when you feel guilty about selling, you are essentially telling the world that your work has no value. You are treating your passion like a hobby. And hobbies cost you money; businesses make you money.
The Fix: Reframe Sales as “Sharing.”
Selling isn’t about tricking someone into giving you cash. It is about transfer of value.
When someone buys a piece of art, they aren’t just buying paint on canvas. They are buying a feeling. They are buying the way that piece makes them feel when they walk into their living room after a hard day. They are buying the story you told them.
By selling your work, you are allowing someone else to participate in your vision. You are giving them a gift (that they pay for).
Stop apologizing for the price tag. The price tag is the only thing that allows you to wake up tomorrow and paint again.
3. The Pricing Trap (Charging for Time vs. Value)
Let me guess how you currently price your work.
You look at a painting. You think, “Okay, the canvas cost me $20. The paint cost $10. And I spent about 5 hours on it. If I pay myself minimum wage…”
And then you come up with a number like $100.
This is a disaster.
When you price based on time, you are punishing yourself for getting better. If you practice for ten years, you will be able to paint that same painting in 2 hours instead of 5. Should you charge less because you are faster? No. You should charge more because you are better.
You are not a factory worker on an assembly line. You are not paid by the hour. You are paid for the years of struggle that allow you to make something beautiful look easy.
The Fix: Price for Emotional Impact.
There is a story about Picasso. A woman asked him to sketch her on a napkin. He did it in 30 seconds. She asked how much. He said, “$10,000.” She was shocked and said, “But it only took you 30 seconds!”
He replied, “No, madam. It took me 40 years.”
You need to decouple your price from your clock. Look at the market. Look at your skill level. And then, add a “Discomfort Tax.”
Price it at a number that makes you slightly uncomfortable. If you aren’t a little scared to hit “publish,” you are charging too little.
4. The “Digital Sharecropping” Problem (Instagram vs. Your Website)
If your entire art business exists on Instagram, TikTok, or Etsy, you do not own a business. You are a digital sharecropper.
You are building your house on rented land.
We saw this happen recently. Instagram changed its algorithm to prioritize Reels (video) over photos. Suddenly, thousands of painters who relied on posting static images of their work saw their views drop by 80% overnight. Their businesses collapsed. Why? Because the landlord changed the locks.
When you rely on social media, you are at the mercy of an algorithm that does not care about your art. It only cares about keeping users scrolling.
The Fix: Build Your Own Gallery.
You need a website.
I’m not saying this just because I run a web design agency (Tasflex). I’m saying this because it is the only way to be sovereign.
A website is the only place on the internet where you control the environment. You control the lighting. You control the narrative. There are no distracting ads for weight loss tea next to your masterpiece.
Your social media should be the “flyer” that hands out invitations. Your website is the “gallery” where the event happens. If you are trying to close sales in the Instagram comments section, you are leaving money on the table.
5. The “Loud” Marketing Myth
“But Ignatius,” you say, “I’m an introvert. I hate talking about myself. I can’t do those dancing TikTok trends.”
Good. You don’t have to.
There is a misconception that “good marketing” means being loud, obnoxious, and everywhere at once. We think of the used car salesman or the hype-beast influencer.
But art is not a used car. Art is intimate.
The people who buy art are usually looking for connection, not noise. They want to know who made this. They want to know why the eyes in the portrait look so sad. They want to know that you sketched this while sitting in a coffee shop in Java at 2 AM.
The Fix: Document, Don’t Create.
You don’t need to come up with “content ideas.” You just need to document what you are already doing.
- Take a time-lapse of you mixing colors.
- Write a short paragraph about what you were thinking when you painted that tree.
- Show the pile of failed sketches that led to the final piece.
This isn’t “marketing.” It’s just sharing the truth. And the truth is what sells.
People fall in love with the artist before they fall in love with the art. If you hide yourself, you give them nothing to hold onto.
6. The Missing Funnel
This is the technical part, but stay with me. It’s simple.
Most artists try to marry on the first date. You post a picture and say “Buy this for $500.”
That is a big ask for a stranger.
You need to move people through a relationship.
- Awareness: They see your work (Social Media).
- Interest: They like your vibe and want to see more (Your Website/Portfolio).
- Trust: They learn about you, your story, and your process (Your “About” Page or Newsletter).
- Action: They buy the art.
If you skip steps 2 and 3, you fail.
The Fix: The “Small Yes.”
Before you ask for the $500 sale, ask for a “small yes.” Ask them to join your email list. Ask them to download a free wallpaper for their phone. Ask them to read a blog post about your process.
Once they have said “yes” to something small, they are infinitely more likely to say “yes” to the big thing later.
Conclusion: The Canvas is Yours
The era of the gatekeeper is over.
Twenty years ago, if a gallery owner didn’t like your work, you were finished. You had no way to reach the public.
Today, you have a printing press, a broadcasting station, and a gallery in your pocket. You can reach a collector in Tokyo, a fan in New York, and a gallery in London without ever leaving your room in Kenya or anywhere you are.
But with that power comes responsibility.
You can no longer blame the “system.” You are the system.
It is scary to take ownership of your income. It is scary to put a price on your soul. It is scary to treat your art like a business.
But the alternative is worse. The alternative is letting that beautiful, world-changing vision sit in the dark, unseen and unloved.
Don’t let your art die in the studio.
Build the website. Post the process. Ask for the money.
The world is waiting to see what you have made.
Need a Roadmap?
I know this is a lot to take in. It’s hard to switch from “Creative Mode” to “Business Mode.”
That is why I wrote “How to Sell Your Art Online.”
It’s a short, visual guide that breaks this down into steps you can actually follow. No business jargon. No complex tech. just a simple 10 page path from “Unknown Artist” to “Sold Out.”
