Introduction:As an artist, I struggle to engage social media in my business and marketing plan for Terra Kind Studio Co. Here I outline my social media experiences and choices and ultimately a strategy that works best for me, my business, and my capacity. I hope this post is both helpful and encouraging.
My entry to social media was in 2009. It was Twitter, back when Twitter was good to be on. I was a freelance graphic designer and saw social media as a means of possibly connecting with potential clients.
I did land a client through Twitter. It started over a tweeted discussion on how a florist failed to deliver flowers for her uncle’s funeral. Things blossomed from there. She hired me to brand her new business, then a non-profit she founded, and several projects in between.
We became and are good friends. Her support of my work and transition from designer to full-time visual artist means the world to me.
A long-term relationship that all started from a series of tweets.
It’s been my one real-life and lasting positive experience with social media. Can I have more of these?
Social media overwhelms me, and I don’t “do” overwhelm. Even though I attended mini-courses and webinars about using social media effectively for connection and marketing, it took too much time out of my day.
I felt social media had to be part of my marketing toolbox because this is what everyone else was pushing. Yet, social media is primarily about connection and relationship building. As a socially awkward, sincere introvert, you would think mastering the art of social media would be easy. It is not.
So I stopped trying. I didn’t want to be the human hamster posting machine. I didn’t want to feel anxious about how well or poorly a post I worked on for hours performed.
I left Twitter in 2016 for obvious reasons.
My relationship with social media evolved from thinking I should be on all the platforms to realistically picking only two to engage consistently.
I could never embrace Facebook with its clunky, ugly aesthetic (in my opinion). Its blue branding is not a happy blue. If I’m on Facebook, it’s to check in with family and relatives living elsewhere or to reply to a message.
Before I took my trip to Japan in 2017, I joined Instagram. It was too late for the boom it had for the early adaptor artists. Yet, I found Instagram interesting. Unfortunately, I found I was getting wrapped up in the number of likes for a post and the number of people following me. I thought of Instagram as a marketing tool, and numbers were the key to success (and potential art sales — ha!)
Again, I was missing the point. Social media can be a marketing tool, but a foundation of connection and trust-building needs to happen first.
Fast forward to today, I have settled on how to engage social media that feels good.
How I Use Social Media in My Art Business
I’m a professional artist running a business with no outside help. I know my bandwidth. So, I decided to focus on two platforms: Pinterestand LinkedIn. Limiting it down to two has been a game-changer.
Why Pinterest? First, it’s not a social media platform but a search engine. I want a way to send people to my website and showcase my artwork. This is a long, slow, and patient tail. The good news is that pins last for years. Posts last a few hours on other social media platforms.
Instead of curating pins, I’m creating them. I have a lot of content (visuals) I can post. When I vary a pin, Pinterest sees this as a fresh pin. I can take one piece of artwork and design the pin in three different ways to pin to three different subject boards for greater reach.
The crazy thing is I love making pins. It blends my art with my eye and skills as a graphic designer. I can use my writing skills to craft pin captions (descriptions) and weave in keywords while sounding like a human.
For the non-graphic designer, there is Canva. I use Canva occasionally, but it’s easier to create pins when I know Illustrator and Photoshop like the back of my hand.
Pinterest is my “experiment” which explains the no-pressure fun I’m having with the platform. Over the past two months of consistently pinning two to three pins daily, I have gone from 2.3K monthly views to 17.4K. Views are just the beginning. My pins are beginning to be pinned by others.
Views are considered a vanity metric on Pinterest. Encouraging, yet the real measure is the traffic coming to my website via Pinterest. Those are the real numbers. So far, there has been a steady increase in traffic but no conversions (sales). This is a long-haul effort. Seeing the results of any measure makes me feel I am not wasting time. I’m laying the foundation for future sales.
Why LinkedIn? When I was a graphic designer (running Grand Ciel Design Co.) I didn’t leverage the platform effectively. I kept my profile up-to-date, posted off and on, and created a business page.
I now have a LinkedIn business page for my art business (Terra Kind Studio Co.). I make an effort to post once a week. One post a week gets a fair amount of engagement. There are many more things I could be doing to make my efforts on LinkedIn worthwhile. For example, I could reach out to people who could expand my brand, such as galleries, interior designers, editors, stylists, etc.
I could be doing more with LinkedIn and I’m not sweating it. I want to have fun here, too.
The big shift in how I engage social media is my attitude and approach. Yes, these are essential marketing tools. No, I don’t want to be a slave to them.
Now when it comes to posting anything on social media, it has to meet at least one of these criteria:
Does it have value?
Does it educate or inform?
Does it spark curiosity?
Does it bring me joy?
Could it bring joy to others?
Do I feel good putting this post out into the world?
Bottom line, I want to enjoy my time on social media. To be my nerdy, silly, authentic self. In turn, this gives others permission to be their gloriously nerdy, silly, authentic selves.
As for Instagram, I’m still semi-active there. I use it to stay in touch with fellow artists and see their current work and the exhibits they are participating in.I’m turning Instagram into an online journal, posting what I care about and working on, and curating images for reference and ideas.
When I post on Instagram these days, with no other reason but to have fun, I’m starting to attract followers and people I want to follow. I seriously thought my account had died, thanks to the almighty algorithm.
Threads, I see as an extension of Instagram (because technically it is). A friendlier and much kinder alternative to X, I’m approaching Threads as “let’s have fun here and be helpful when I can be.” Numbers and followers don’t matter. It’s the conversations that do.
It would be lovely to have repeat experiences like the one I had with Twitter in 2009. In the meantime, I have lots of art to make and people to meet. That’s where the real connections begin.
Your Turn.
What has your journey with social media been like? Do you favor specific platforms and why? Has it helped your business (be it artist, creative entrepreneur, or other profession) or has it been a colossal time-suck? How do you feel about social media in general? I would love to hear your thoughts. I respond personally to all.
Artists have a unique creative way of standing out. Yet, artists need their marketing tools, too.
To be honest I never had an elevator pitch. I always took the stairs, having far more to say about my work than I could fit into an elevator ride.
But here I am, past my years as a graphic designer (I should have had one then given my knowledge of marketing communications!) and I finally found my pitch, one that is authentic. It took all of about 30 seconds to write. Mine is one of many examples. You can find a ton more by googling. The important thing is to make this pitch true to you.
I’m Kristin Maija Peterson, a visual artist who connects people with the everyday, ordinary, and extraordinary facets of the natural world through art, observation, science, and story.
I guess it’s that time of the year when I feel the urge to get plans and objectives down in writing that made me finally hone in on an elevator pitch. (I’m also planning on biting off the big-to-do and writing a freaking business plan, if only for myself. Otherwise, I will look back in five years and be standing in the same spot as I am now.
I know this sounds like bragging, getting an elevator pitch down in 30 seconds. Writing an elevator pitch is painful for most, a process to be sure, and something that gets revised from time to time.
Mine did not come overnight. I arrived at an elevator pitch that felt authentic by really looking at the body of work I was creating and why I love the process, my exhibiting experience, interacting with others about my art, and some serious time journaling.
All the advice on perfecting elevator pitches is enough to draw complete blanks in one’s head. It must be memorable, and impactful, and highlight what makes your work, creative or otherwise, truly unique. A tall order for such a snippet of a sentence or two.
For emerging artists, this marketing tool is right up there with writing an Artist Statement in terms of dread and angst. To this I would say, be still. Listen. Then write what comes to you without judgment or editing. Many, including myself, practice what Julia Cameron author of The Artist’s Way calls morning pages.
I’ve read mixed reviews about The Artist’s Way, so I forgive any eye-rolls. To be honest, I only practice morning pages and artist dates from her book.
Just get it all down on paper.
If you are not familiar with morning pages, they are simply sitting down with a notebook, a journal, or paper and a writing instrument of choice and writing, just write what comes to mind, anything, for three solid pages. Yes, your hand will ache at first. Yet, it’s this tactile act, the physicality of writing, away from technology, that puts us in touch with our true selves. From this practice, it’s possible to discover through lines and wording that lead you to a solid pitch and statement.
Your elevator pitch and your artist statement, when they speak authentically of you doing you, will attract the people you seek, be it an audience, a collaboration, or an opportunity. Once you have one, practice using it, it can help open doors for you. Being able to articulate what you do and why you do it allows you to connect with others on a deeper level which can turn into landing a grant, a commission, and art sales.
I have not taken my elevator pitch out for a spin just yet. It’s very new, just like the year. Curious to hear what you think. Should artists have elevator pitches? Do elevator pitches feel too unnatural for you to say out loud — to another person? (Practicing it out loud will let you know if it feels real or cheesy).
If any of this is helpful, a good reminder, or just another have-to-do, I’d love to hear it. Jot your comments below. I respond to all.
ARTWORKSHOWN ABOVE: The Earth’s History Is Written In Her Stones. Sharpie pens on vellum paper / 11 x 14”
I’m visiting an exhibit of an artist I don’t know yet. The artist’s work is powerful and moving to me. I read the label beside each piece. Many of them read Untitled or Untitled No. VI.
I kind of feel cheated. I want to know what the artist was feeling and thinking to motivate this person to create such a stunning work of art. Since I am not at the opening where the artist would likely be attending, I have no way of asking.
That’s the trouble of leaving artwork designated as Untitled, dear fellow artists. It’s a bit like not naming your children. You spent the time and energy creating the work, yet do you care enough about your art to give it a name?
Please, just name your work, dear artist.
I will say for many artists naming their work is painfully difficult. The “right” title refuses to present itself. If an artist commits to a name for their piece, they may develop different feelings and interpretations towards the work in the future that would require a new title. I can understand the desire for an authentic connection between the work and its name in an artist’s mind. As an artist, it’s important to me, too.
Perhaps I can be persuasive in asking, dear fellow artists, to name your work. Titling or naming your work is just one of many vital touch points you have with others and your work. A title helps make the work relatable and gives the audience a deeper connection to your work.
On the flip side, titling helps artists form a story around their work. We, as artists, all need to talk and write about our work. Again, I will acknowledge this is painfully difficult for many artists.
I consider myself incredibly lucky on this front. My love of stories and pictures starts with the art of children’s picture books. For a picture book to be a success, words and illustrations must dance together, creating a page-turner. I use this same mindset when titling, writing, and talking about my work.
That wasn’t always the case. When I ran my graphic design business, I did my art practice on the side whenever time and energy allowed. I drew lots of birds and watercolored fish and potted plants. I drew sheep, cows, and the occasional toad. My artistic skills improved, yet my work wasn’t saying anything. The work didn’t hold any real significance or meaning other than being “nice.” It didn’t give me enough meat for a compelling artist statement, nor did my work get me accepted to show in juried exhibits.
All this is to say, if your work has meaning to you, name it. Jot down your thoughts about it. It’s fodder for artist statements. It’s valuable content when you have the opportunity to talk about your work, either in an artist’s talk or with individual buyers and collectors.
Today, when I am working on a piece, a title will come to me well before it’s finished. The title may not have much to do with the subject matter but leads into the story I am formulating in my head. It’s a process that has become part of my art practice.
For my first solo show, I created story labels* to display next to each piece. People attending my exhibit told me they enjoyed the stories I had written about my work. My stories gave them a deeper understanding of my work, a chance to learn something and appreciate the work even if they didn’t particularly like it. (For example, insects of all kinds fascinate me with their designs, colors, patterns, and the mechanics of their legs, eyes, feet, and wings. But most people do not like seeing “big bugs” on the wall).
So, dear fellow artists, if titling your art and writing and talking about your art feels daunting, do not despair. Your art is a practice, and so is this. It gets easier each time you do it. Research how other artists name, write and talk about their work. I most appreciate it when an artist is genuine, speaks, and writes in plain language and from the heart about their work versus the esoteric prose I have come across. Frankly, I have no idea what that artist is talking about. Talk about a disconnect.
After all, I believe art can change the world. Artists are creators of culture and community. Generation of this is made possible through connecting with others through your art. And that starts by naming it.
ABOUT STORY LABELS: Because I wanted my solo exhibit to have a professional “museum” quality to it, I designed story labels using Adobe InDesign and the typography I use to represent my studio. I printed these story labels out on Professional Photo Matte paper (for Epson printers, mine is a WorkForce Pro 4630) and mounted the story labels on to .25” thick white foam core. (I have mentioned before I am not good with glue so this exercise had its moments). In the end, the story labels looked and worked beautifully. The trick was to keep weights (lots of big books) on top of the glued story labels until the glue was thoroughly dry and set. A lot of work for twenty-four pieces but well worth it.
OK, your turn. How do you feel about titling your artwork, writing about it, and talking about it? Has it gotten easier over time? Do you go it alone or do you ask for help when it comes to titling your work, etc?
This is for two reasons. One, custom framing retail-wise is expensive. At the moment, I am preparing for my very first solo exhibition with twenty-three pieces to frame. If I used local framers, my budget would be exhausted before half my pieces were ready to hang. Two, I like to frame my pieces with a certain aesthetic that I don’t think I would be able to control using a local frame shop. I feel bad about not supporting local frame shops but an artist has to do what an artist has to do.
When I first started my own framing process, it took more than half a day to get two pieces framed. Full disclosure, I order frames from Custom Picture Frames. They carry a simple, natural pine frame that’s perfect for presenting my work. I had a couple of hiccups with them, like busted or scratched non-glare acrylic. They immediately sent out a replacement at no cost.
My art framing tools.
My Framing Tools List
Following along with the lettered items in the photo, here are the tools I use and the reasons I find them useful.
A. Artist’s Tape. For adhering artwork to matting. If needed, I can remove the tape without damaging the artwork.
B. Measuring Tape. Hanging hardware should be placed one-third down from the top of the frame. I use the measuring tape to measure and mark where I should place the hanging hardware on the back of the frame.
C. Kneading Eraser. Sometimes the matting can have some scuff marks, and a kneaded eraser can remove marks without damaging the mat.
D. Glue. This is the only place I dare use glue (if you’ve read my About page, you’ll know I am a disaster when it comes to using glue. I use a bit of glue to adhere my business card to the back of a framed piece.
E. Old Hand Towel. I could use something better, but this works for holding onto the edges of the non-glare acrylic. I chose to use non-glare acrylic because it’s lightweight, and I am really afraid of handling glass. I can just imagine the blood, the damaged artwork, the despair! Anyway, an old towel (clean, by the way) is handy for managing the acrylic and removing bits of stray stuff that can get caught between the acrylic and matting. Framing in the dry winter air and its static cling made the process especially trying. (Insert lots of swearing under my breath here.)
F. Philips Screwdriver. Why is it called Philips anyway? Simply put, I need a Philips screwdriver to screw in the little screws that mount the hanging hardware on the back of the frame — one-third down from the top of the frame.
G. Gimlet. This is such an important tool. I am sure it has saved me from additional swearing under my breath. The gimlet allows me to create starter holes for the little screws so I don’t end up slitting the frame’s wood.
H. Little Stubby Screwdriver. Maybe it’s called a Steve or Stuart screwdriver. I don’t know. Anyway, this little guy saves my fingers from bleeding by prying up the metal prongs holding the foam core backing. I need to turn the prongs up to remove the backing, matting, and acrylic, next position and tape my piece to the matting, then put it all back together, turning the metal prongs back down with the screwdriver before adding hanging hardware and wire.
I. No. 2 Drawing Pencil. For marking where I should mount the hanging hardware on the back of the frame.
J. Scissors. Scissors will cut through the excess hanging wire. They always send a generous amount. Hanging wire should never be pulled taut across the back of the frame between the hanging hardware. Instead, there should be some slack to allow the wire to hang the artwork comfortably from a wall hook.
K. Personal Stamp. Not at all necessary for framing but rather my way of signing my pieces. My initial letter K for Kristin developed when I was very young and it stuck. I found a place that makes stamps from a graphics file so I had my own made to stamp the back of each framed piece and then sign my full name next to the stamped K.
L. Business Card. This has my studio name, contact information, website URL, etc. It’s important for artists to market themselves where ever they can. My work often has to stand alone and speak for itself as to who created the piece, how can the artist be contacted, and where can I find more of her work. I always glue a business card to the back of my framed pieces.
The obvious key to making my framing process go smoothly is to have all my tools assembled and easy to reach along with a clean tabletop. It’s helped reduce my compulsion for swearing under my breath.
Was this helpful? What would you add? I know some of this stuff could be obvious. I also know I should probably show photos of the framing steps, as listing the uses for the tools isn’t enough visually. Hopefully, you were able to follow along. My thinking is to help elevate the trepidation of framing your works if you have never done it before. Happy framing!
Once a month, usually on a quiet Tuesday morning, I send a short note from the studio, show new work in progress, upcoming exhibits, things that are inspiring me, what's on my nightstand, and the occasional shop offer just for subscribers.
It's a small, unhurried letter. Very much like me.
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Terra Kind Studio Co. is the creation of Kristin Maija Peterson, a life-long visual artist, writer, art director, and recovering graphic designer.
“I write stories about of my work to give you a deeper connection and understanding of the natural world. These stories blend of art, observation, experiences, and science. As a self-proclaimed “Beauty Hunter,” I represent and celebrate the wild, messy, and misunderstood ecosystems that are either ignored, destined to be controlled, or developed for human consumption. There is beauty and awe to be found in unexpected places, in the natural chaos of things. I hope your visit here inspires you to find your own beauty and wonderment in the natural world.”
Be kind to everything that lives and especially be kind to yourself.
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