Somewhere along the way you decided the goal was more eyes on your work.
More followers. More likes. More reach. More, more, more.
So you put on the costume and started knocking on doors.
Trick or treat. Please like my painting.
Posting at the “right” time. Chasing every trend. Hashtagging into the void. Holding your little pillowcase out to the algorithm and hoping it drops something in.
Sometimes it does. A little bump. A fun-size handful.
And three days later it’s gone.
I’ve worn that costume.
I’ve refreshed a post more times than I’d like to confess. I’ve watched a piece I loved get ignored and a piece I barely cared about take off, and I’ve tried to reverse engineer the difference like it was a math problem.
It’s exhausting. And it never fills the bag.
Because here’s the thing every kid figures out by about age nine.
There’s always one house.
The one with the full-size candy bars.
Nobody has to advertise that house. Nobody’s standing at the end of the driveway begging. Word just spreads. Kids cross the street for it. Parents text each other about it. The line goes down the block.
That house isn’t chasing anybody.
It’s just undeniably worth the walk.
That’s the difference between chasing attention and earning it.
The goal was never more eyes. It was work that deserves the eyes it already has.
You can hack the algorithm all day. It won’t change what happens in the two seconds after someone actually stops on your work.
That part isn’t a hack.
That part is earned.
And it’s earned in the studio, not the app. In the piece you push one more round. In the idea you stop hiding “for later.” In the choice that makes you a little nervous to post.
The artists who get remembered didn’t win a visibility game. They made something so undeniable the visibility became a side effect.
So take off the costume. Put down the pillowcase.
Go be the full-size candy bar.
Stop optimizing for attention.
Start making work that would be rude to scroll past.
