Interview with Freydoon Rassouli by Nurturing Art (archive)→

What a beautiful approach to painting without the mind:

When I paint, I have no idea what I am painting or what I want to paint. I just start on the canvas and I play. I usually start with a rag, and I take some paint color like blue…and then I put the rag in the blue and put in on the canvas. Then I put that rag aside and get another rag and, let’s say, I take some red and I fill in some other blank spots on the canvas. And now there is a play between the blue and the red on the canvas. Sometimes blue gets the help from green or yellow or other color. I am just playing without following any rules or any thought or any ideas. As I play, I get to the point where the canvas is all filled with colors.

The lovemaking begins when the canvas tells me what it wants…not me imposing an idea onto the canvas. The canvas keeps on telling me, “Ok…touch me here…touch me there…remove this from here…add this in there.” All of that is like making love with a partner who is guiding you rather than you forcing yourself on them. And that’s what develops into a joyful painting

For more, visit Rassouli’s website.

The Queen of Bleach and Diamine by nickstewart.ink →

…from an interview with Elle Tennyson, a fountain pen artist:

Me: Any ‘pearls of wisdom’ for interested creatives?

Elle: Be comfortable with being shit at first. So many budding artists stop short through fear of not being good enough, but only things worthwhile are on the other side of fear and hard work. Everyone has been bad at something at some point, it’s the people who are brave enough to push through who progress. Don’t let insecurity block your creative journey.

Wise advice.

(And very applicable to my budding artistic efforts. Ugh.)

Your newsletter questions answered by Monday Monday →

Tell everyone you have a newsletter. Make a clipboard for your stand at the farmer’s market. Tell your followers social media. Make a lead magnet. […] Email everyone you know with the link to subscribe and ask them to share it.

I have a tiny mini-business card that has a picture of my camper on one side and on the back it says “Follow me Along the Ray” with my website and email address which I’ll hand to folks curious about the full-time camping life or leave on bulletin boards, in bookstores, cafes, etc.

Borrow audiences. Be on other people’s podcasts and tell them you have a newsletter. Tell your parent’s friends. Tell your postal worker. Find another friend with a newsletter and trade links in your newsletters. Guest teach in a friend’s online course.

Like commenting on other blogs where you and I find each other. Most comment forms ask for your website address. Pop your newsletter in there.

A few more off the top of my head:

• Link to your newsletter on your social media profiles and share new issues there
  
• Put it in your email signature.
  
• Definitely link to it in the header of your blog if you have one (see example on my personal blog)

Further from Cody @ Monday Monday:

This is also where relationship marketing comes in. Building relationships is important because it keeps us alive, but it also builds your creative and professional ecosystem where we cheer each other on in public. This brings in readers from other communities.

Another reason why comment sections are valuable - it’s how readers can interact not just with you but with other readers and share stories, tips, etc.

It can slowly build up from there and before you know it your blog or newsletter has its own little enduring community.

That’s how you keep readers too.

BTW, C.J. Chivers, a long time newsletterer of over twenty years recently put out a book called Principles for Newsletters. It’s a no-hype no nonsense read I heartily recommend. (If you happen to be tight on cash, I’ll buy it for you as a micro-scholarship to further your knowledge. Let me know.)

Do not comment on another website, when you can write on your own by Disassociated →

Blog comments were also a great way to build rapport and network, but I almost think the case can be made that they spelt the end of the personal website. Now that readers of a website/blog could respond to a post in the same place, many people no longer needed their own website to do so.

I get it. And the spam, whoa.

Yet I loove comment sections. Why?

Because I gain unique insights or personal perspectives from others by browsing the comments. And discover new bloggers to follow.

It’s the joy of discovery that makes comment sections so worth it. Pure serendipity. They often send me down wanderous¹ rabbit holes in my noggin and the web.

An unexpected bonus: I comment on your blog, curious readers discover me. You comment on mine, they find you and so on in a ripple effect. More serendipitous cross-pollination in the blogosphere.

It’s no different from how we communicate in the flesh either — some folks are talkers (bloggers!), some are commenters (readers!), some lurk on the margins (introverts?). It’s a great way to meet new people, just like bumping into someone on the street or in a park and making a new friend.

Not everyone can blog (nor want to) so it’s nice to provide a place outside the mayhem of social media for readers to chime in and be a part of your little commons in the comments.

i like writers who take risks by veronique.ink →

I read a blog post this morning from a writer I casually follow. It was a nice and uplifting post. But it was also a safe post. I poked around a bit through his blog, and as knowledgeable as he is, his writing feels guarded.

I like writers who aren’t afraid of thinking out loud on the page and sharing bits of themselves that might present as awkward or uncooked.

I’m guilty of holding back sometimes. Or writing too blandly like I’m in front of an audience.

What is it that makes me write like this sometimes? Insecurity? Imposter syndrome? Or just not thinking?

Ouch.

I know it wasn’t directed at me but it was a stark reminder so I dug through the edit history of my about page and pinned the very first thing I wrote back to the top of it.

And then I dug deeper, riffing to myself why I need to remember what I originally wrote.

It’s going to be a work in progress but I’ll get there.

Thanks for the reminder, Veronique!

“Better to write for yourself and have no public, than to write for the public and have no self.” —Cyril Connolly