Things of Quality have No Fear of Time

Something I’ve been grappling with for the past few years is the tug between taking the necessary time it takes to nurture a work of art and hastily hustling to push out content to stay ‘top of mind’ in the feed. Another battle between art vs. business.

I used to choreograph and make conceptual dance videos. When I first moved to Los Angeles to pursue my dreams of dancing professionally, I worked multiple jobs to make rent (living with two other girls in a bunkbed), using any extra income on studio rentals for rehearsals and filming locations. It was my favorite creative outlet. The entire process was exciting. A song would hook me, I’d listen to it on repeat for DAYS- essentially visualizing a music video, showing up to the studio day after day to choreograph. Highlighting instruments buried in the track that may have gone unnoticed by the casual listener and depicting wordplay with cleverly connected shapes as easter eggs for those that noticed. It was as much math as it was art. I’d teach other dancers with staging and formations, direct the shoot and start editing into the wee hours of the night (sometimes still at the location). It touched on every part of the creative process and I’d be on nothing short of a high when I’d upload something I put so much of myself in.

Immediately importing footage for my video to The Good Parts by Andy Grammar

My internet career started with dance videos on YouTube and branched out into every other form of digital making. It felt good because I was living a lavish lifestyle I had never even thought possible from my upbringing, but my dreams went from the ability to make a living off of my art to the ability to not check my email at 10pm at a party and a calendar with any white space. Keeping up with the proven posting schedule that allotted me a stable career as a businesswoman wasn’t sustainable for my happiness as an artist. I put everything on pause to reset and recalibrate.

Logging into substack, I see this on my homepage: