On inhabiting digital space

Some reflections on finding new ways to inhabit digital spaces - and creating containers to hold all of our Selves.

I’ve been working this week to remake my website (my digital container for creativity and self-expression) in a way that more accurately reflects my creative practice and capacity while also allowing space for new growth.

When I initially created this website, it was with the intention of selling the dolls and talismans that I make. I didn’t want to sell for the sake of selling - I wanted to create dolls and talismans - and I knew that I wouldn’t keep all of them. It feels important to offer these sacred objects to others - and some dolls are very clear that they are meant for someone else. My plan was simply to create whatever I felt drawn to create and to offer the finished products here and on Instagram. I wasn’t going to push sales - and if something didn’t sell, that would be ok, too. I knew that I could trust that if something was meant to sell, the right person would find it.

But I quickly realized that instead of feeling nourished, my creative process was suffering. It’s interesting how our creative practice shifts when under the perceived gaze of the Other. Doubt begins to creep in. Instead of trusting and allowing myself to be guided by Spirit and whatever medicine was coming through, I began to worry that what I was making wouldn’t land well with my audience. I began to second guess - everything - and to compare my work to that of other fiber artists and dollmakers. I wondered why some things didn’t sell - and began to (consciously and unconsciously) shift my designs to showcase more of what my audience seemed to want.

For me, this is one of the most interesting aspects of the whole experience. Even though I knew selling wasn’t the initial goal, I felt I had to create things people would want - or what was the point? I began to question my art’s inherent value - and to doubt the legitimacy of making art simply for the sake of feeding my creative urges. I inadvertently began to operate under the false (capitalist) belief that I need to be making money off of something for it to have value. Sales became a form of validation, telling me that my art was valued by others and thus valuable. And if my art was valuable, that meant I was valuable. In cases when I wasn’t selling something, the currency became validation in the form of “likes” or comments on social media. I was constantly trying to figure out what I could and/or “should” make to prove that I am an Artist. (Yes, capital “A” Artist - because somehow there’s this ridiculous idea that the many categories and qualities of art (or Art) are hierarchical.)

My creative process became some version of: Make-Post-Check (for validation)-Repeat. The cycle was exhausting.

(There’s so much more to say about Instagram and the negative feedback loop of false validation that we receive from the app - but that’s a post for another day.)

All of this to say - at some point, I realized that I didn’t feel nourished. I grew tired (and bored) of social media, tired of trying to “sell” myself and my offerings to people. (I fully acknowledge that I may not be the best person for sales - I once had a job at the local gym selling memberships and, while management insisted I cold call people who had visited the gym with a friend, my philosophy was always that if someone wanted a gym membership, they knew where to find me. I somehow always found ways to avoid making those calls. I didn’t work there long.)

Not only did I become exhausted from this cycle of “make-post-rinse-repeat”, but the cycle of my inner seasons (and thus my physical capacity) began to change as my body shifted more fully into perimenopause (which I briefly mentioned in this post). My body and spirit were telling me (loudly) that I needed to slow down, so I decided to take a break - both from selling my art and from social media. It’s been months since I posted on Instagram and even longer since I’ve made any offerings to sell. And while I’ve enjoyed the break from both, I do miss sharing my creative projects with others.

Which brings me to the question:

How do we inhabit digital spaces with creative integrity in a world that expects us to be selling something (either a product or our attention) at all times?

And, to clarify, I’m not talking about people who make and sell their art because they find joy in the act of selling and are also able to make a living doing so. I’m speaking to my own experience, and this includes a desire to share my art - and maybe even to sell some of my creations, but only when it feels aligned.

How do I occupy an online space without falling into the false belief that to exist on the internet I need to be selling something? How can I share or sell my offerings without worry about how others will perceive them? And how can I create a digital container to hold my creative practice that isn’t centered around selling?

Some additional questions that I’ve been asking myself include: If I don’t have any items to sell, do I even need a website? If I’m only sharing my creations, thoughts, and ideas, isn’t that a bit narcissistic? What do I even have to offer if I’m not selling something? Do I even have anything of value to say?

The thing about these questions is they assume that value is granted to us, rather than something that we hold within ourselves. I don’t need to ask any of these questions if I know that I am - and therefore my creative practice is - inherently valuable. If I know that my thoughts, ideas, experiences, and art have intrinsic value, then I don’t feel the need to ask permission to share them - I can grant that permission to myself.

So, consider this current iteration of my website just that - me granting myself permission to exist, in all my creative messiness, on the internet. I’ve removed my sales page and I’m currently imagining what a “sometimes I have things to sell but mostly I don’t” method of selling might look like in this space. Because I would love to offer my dolls and talismans to you through the ether - in a way that feels nourishing and aligned.

I don’t want to create simply to sell. I want to create in a way that is guided by Spirit and Intuition - timed with the moon cycle and the seasons. I know that this process doesn’t lend itself to the capitalist structure of most businesses. So, I’m here - reimagining the possibilities.

Thanks for witnessing me in this process, friends.

Note: If you’re interested in creating your own home on the internet, I highly recommend Kening Zhu’s podcast, website, and courses as resources to guide you.