First of all, I’m a delight. Second, “You are not a drop in the ocean. You are the entire ocean in a drop.” ― Rumi
Not the ocean, but a beautiful image of Lake Michigan from the Chicago side. Further down I’ll post a full image of the painting – please feel free to scroll on down, get a screen capture, and look it up. Interestingly it will somehow loop back to: 1) this post or 2) random archived places where I’ve discussed the painting previously. Welcome to the digital spiral that is the internet.
Today I was chatting with my editing team about how one stays authentic to their creative self while also trying to keep one’s toes in the water of content creation. And, yes, I talk about this quite a bit because I’m really trying to understand this shift to “fast food” artistry that is happening on various platforms. There are a few places that will penalize you for having a post/video that is longer than 7 minutes. However, it’s their server space and rules, so we all must march to the beat of their drum.
Or not.
Just say no to the niche. You are not just a drop in the ocean, as Rumi says, but the entire ocean in one drop. Life contains multitudes. You don’t have to be a “niche” creator. Instead, you can be a hub for all your different interests. Your photography, writing, and videos all come from the same person—you.
This can be a more sustainable and fulfilling path than trying to fit yourself into a box that doesn’t feel right. It allows you to create from a place of genuine passion, and it invites people into a conversation, not just a transaction. And that is what this painting means to me. Not the story of the artist, nor her particular beliefs about parts of history – it’s that she DARED to be herself in a culture that actively pushes us to be otherwise.
Just for the record, this is NOT my artwork. I do not own the rights to this and am only sharing it as part of the story about how it came to be in my family’s possession. Also, I cannot share the name of the artist because the internet has eyes. While some can talk about things that are outlandishly unbelievable and gather millions of followers…talking calmly about how a piece of art inspired me to come back to what I love, sharing my creative self, upsets Al’s Gorithms.
Here it is, y’all. Here’s the painting in all its glory. And here’s an image that shows you how it ties to history.
Side note, I donated this magazine, and no longer own it. Back copies can be find online.
As I’ve said previously, could my family and I be making this bigger than it is? Yes, absolutely and without question…yes. It’s just, and I’m not sure how to even say this in a different way, there’s just something about all of it that creates intrigues in the brain. Even more after the ruckus it caused online.
In the digital world there’s this push for algorithmic success versus the messiness of human creativity. The prevalence of AI-generated content and bot monitoring is designed to have us churn out work that makes the platform happy. As someone that was in tech years ago (think back in the dinosaur days of dial-up via rotary phones), I fully understand the huge cost of data, servers, and the sheer amount of memory it takes to hold all this. We have to become efficient, but that lacks the unique, sometimes illogical, and deeply personal qualities that make humans and humanity so compelling. The rambling, the detours, and the wild punctuation (as in my case), are all part of our authentic voice, signaling to the reader/viewer that a real, thinking person is at the helm.
And this is the paradox: in a world that craves efficiency, the most valuable creative work might be the messiest. True connection isn’t always instant, but we are pushed to immediately decide if someone is in our camp. Real human interaction isn’t like that, it’s built through vulnerability, shared experiences, and the raw authenticity of trying to get by in the world. To truly connect, we need to slow down and engage with the nuances of what the creative person is sharing with us.
This painting is a reminder that the real treasure isn’t in a viral hashtag, or rising to the top of your niche content, it’s in the shared experience of being human. We make mistakes, and we try hard to understand our environment. Art and creativity, in all forms, gives us a brief moment to connect with something bigger than we can understand. We can tell a story about our world, as I’ve said previously, to help others see that they are not alone.
You might have a ton of thoughts right now, but if I may suggest something, let this be one that sticks with you: just say no to the niche. Be multitudinously notorious. Live in the place where your insecurities dwell. Contradict yourself. If you need someone to stand with you, just let me know — I’ll be there with bells on.
Much love,
~ KEU
Currently listening to: The Tales of KE Upton (Spotify playlist – am working on getting it on YouTube as well)
Currently reading: pondering what to read next…stay tuned
Kim Upton 