Articles

How the relentless pursuit of "likes" ended up reshaping art. 

Self-loathing may be a word we shy away from, but what it points to is real, and it shows up not just in perfectionism and imposter syndrome, but in the small, reasonable-sounding decisions that gradually pull us away from our own creative centre. 

Most of us spend our entire lives waiting for external permission to know our worth. But what if that entire courtroom is a detour?

The question is not whether you need a manager or a mentor or the right team; you do. But here's what no one can do for you.

Most creatives know what beliefs are holding them back. Some can articulate them, analyse them, even replace them with supposedly empowering alternatives. Yet the behaviour often remains unchanged, and the resistance stubbornly intact. This gap between understanding a pattern and being free of it reveals something the conventional mindset frameworks miss: that beliefs rarely originate as obstacles to overcome, but as protective adaptations born from genuine necessity. 

The brain mistakes repetition for safety, comfort for understanding, and endurance for choice. This confusion runs deeper than personal relationships; it shapes entire careers, industries, and the inherited scripts we mistake for our own lives. 

Saying no is rarely about the word itself.

The gift economy has never been more romanticised in creative circles, nor has it ever been more useful as a framework for extracting value from the people doing the actual work. Between streaming platforms that pay fractions of a cent per track, AI companies trained on unconsented human creativity, and the persistent cultural pressure asking artists to perform for exposure, something has shifted in how we talk about generosity and exchange. 

In an era obsessed with relentless output, we often make the subtle but dangerous mistake of confusing our outward capabilities with our internal space. While modern hustle culture demands flashy performances, new skills, and louder opinions, the profound art of truly "holding space" is quietly slipping away from our daily lives.  

What does “accessibility” really mean when the door looks open but power still decides who gets in? Using the music world as a revealing lens, this post uncovers how modern culture turns openness, authenticity, and even vulnerability into branding tools that can mask exclusion, exploitation, and control. 

What if creativity is not just an abstract concept, but a vital physiological necessity rooted deeply within the human brain? What if creative freedom isn’t a luxury at all, but a biological requirement for humanity?  The striking connection between stress, brain function, and creativity reveals how judgment, control, and poorly-curated environments can push the mind into survival mode and shut down the very capacity art depends on. And the results of flipping that dynamic are fascinating in ways that stare us in the face, waiting for us to see. 

In a moment when AI, industry cynicism, and creative disillusionment are making artists question whether it’s still worth continuing, this interview excerpt between musician T.L. Mazumdar and transformational coach Peter Crone offers a reminder.

Pop psychology can often flatten complex neurological phenomena into simplistic manifestation slogans. But the actual mechanics behind how our brains organize reality is far more fascinating. 

Ever wondered why those heartfelt conversations with friends leave us drained, even when no one's keeping score? 

A single offhand line in a hotel café, (“Get someone else to sing it”) can crack open a much bigger question: who gets to decide whether our voice belongs? This story dives into the experience of being pushed into a category, and the deeper truth that creativity isn’t just craft or market fit. It’s intimacy, consent, and identity. 

What if the biggest challenge isn’t learning how to perform well—but learning whether the “show” is coming from expression or a hunger for approval?