Mastering The Art Game: Tips You Can Learn From An Artist.

Is it a bad timing to be an artist?

Correction: I paint music, so I would say the same for that industry too.

So why don't I listen to the sirens and change my career? I could do sales, advertising, HVAC or roofing. - something stable!

But the thing about me is, I have an adventurous spirit. Risk and challenge? That's my language. I jump on planes, switch scenery, and seek out what’s next. Brexit happened? I left London (with a heavy heart). France didn’t love my art? I went to Switzerland. When COVID subsided, I opened a studio in New York.

A good story is not memorable without the risks.

Celebrating my newsletter's new milestone made me want to share some tips you can apply to your business—straight from the trenches of the art world.

Take a stand.

The art industry loves dead artists.

Sometimes it feels like being dead is the entry pass to sell millions of dollars worth of mediocre work.

The problem for the deceased? Demand exceeds supply. If only collectors bought art they truly loved, instead of trying to keep up with the Joneses at auction houses, the entire industry would shine.

In New York, I saw 5Pointz in Long Island City—a whole building painted with murals, an artist's heaven—until developers turned it into offices, which then stayed empty because everyone works remotely now. I thought my studio would be different. Perfect spot, right there in the city. Then, the wolves came, and I was evicted. (How I ended up in Texas? That's how! #Hookem)

Events shape the journey, but taking a stance against injustices along the way is crucial. The capitalist mindset has infiltrated the art world, and it’s hard to regain art’s true purpose once money gets involved.

Art should inspire, provoke thought, and bring people together—not just exist for profits.

Don't sell art.

Like in "Glengarry Glen Ross." Art isn’t real estate; you can't handle the deals with brass balls.

I’ve got pieces I painted seven years ago still in Switzerland.

Art is personal—it’s about timing.

Painting while thinking of money is like pouring absinthe on an honest intention. ABC, always be closing, this is total BS.

Here's what we should do instead: offer a moment, a feeling, a gift that keeps on giving.

Galleries won't save you.

For my inspiration, I let some gallery newsletters end up in my inbox. I tried to reply to a few, just for fun, took my best pen, and introduced myself.

Results?

"We’ll keep you in mind."

"We’re not on boarding artists right now."

I felt lucky to get a response

The classic artist's knee-jerk reaction? “Are you kidding me? My art is better than most in your roster!” But ego and comparison steal joy.

My happiness doesn’t rely on someone else’s approval—it starts on my canvas. Galleries and agents can be convenient, but ownership is the game now.

In the same way, music artists bypass labels nowadays; we can bypass galleries.

I’m on my way to 1,000 newsletter subscribers on LinkedIn alone, and I’ve got over 1,000 in my main newsletter.

Forget galleries—you need 1,000 engaged supporters to make a living.

The rest is a bonus.

Network like a madman.

The element of surprise. When you'd expect me in a gallery surrounded by other artists preying for a sale, I take my art in the back of the car and show up at business events with it.

I love sales, real estate, finance, banking, and even crypto events.

Network, network, and keep networking!

LinkedIn is mad at me because, at the end of a normal week, I exceeded the number of invitations allowed.

I set up my targets, knowing exactly my dream collector avatar and who I want to build a relationship with.

Make great content.

Nothing replaces great content.

When I’m in the zone, I turn into Prince in the studio—pumping my favorite Funk tunes, filling the vault. I explore.

Just an idea, I’m in Dallas, and the Cowboys just got crushed last Sunday.

At this point, I wonder if Jerry Jones is still aware. Maybe I should paint sports too—athletes listen to music before stepping onto the field.?What if the Cowboys are winning in my paintings? What a beacon of hope it'd be for the collecting fans! I'm dead serious.

Great content has no limits. Here’s my rotation:

• A painting a day (even a sketch) on my tablet.
• A short story, then a longer one for my newsletter, Patreon or blog.
• Post to LinkedIn, Instagram, WhatsApp (yes, WhatsApp stories work), and Twitter.
• Schedule it all on Hootsuite, every two days.

Rejections are in your head.

Noooo?

"Are they crazy to tell me no?!"

Rejection is what you make it. I love sales—asking the right questions is an art form. It’s not the collector’s job to remember you if they meet someone who might love your work. It’s yours to make that connection happen.

I start my days with a lot of "no’s," because I know they’re signs of a great day to come. I’m putting myself in front of people who value art, and if they don’t see the value in my work, then they’re not my target audience. Rejections are simply redirections to find the right people who will appreciate and support my work.

As an artist, it can be disheartening to receive rejection after rejection. It's natural to question your worth and talent when faced with a "no" from someone you hoped would love your work.

But here's the thing: rejection is not a reflection of your abilities or value as an artist.

Rejections can often be beneficial for growth and success.

They push us to improve our craft, try new techniques, and reach out to different audiences.

The art of listening & talking.

I like hopping platforms. Instagram and Twitter are conversation-driven, unlike LinkedIn, where comments are polite cheerleading (not all of them).

The art of listening in motion—podcasts, YouTube interviews—I learn every day. When I connect, I think, "What can I learn from this person today?"

It’s a puzzle, one piece at a time.

For example,?in that YouTube interview of Ned Phillips, there is a specific part where he said "You need to go beyond your comfort zone to be memorable."

Sometimes, this guy runs for days on end in dress shirts...he might know a thing or two about comfort.

I am listening, oh!?Light bulb. ???

In his Ted talk from my podcast selection a few days ago, Will Guidara told us a story about how he thrived on reinventing the hospitality industry.

He said: Why do realtors drop a bottle of wine in the fridge of new home buyers to thank them? This is boring, everyone does it!

Why do you refuse to be authentic by going the extra mile?

Perhaps, art might offer a unique experience here.

The art of reading & writing.

An artist who doesn’t read is dead on arrival. There's absolutely no substance you bring on the table. The world buys your perspective—how you see life.

Why artists are starving? Who are the successful ones? What happened in the real estate industry today? What's going on in Florida after hurricanes Helen and Milton? What's going on in America today? The world?

I have a subscription to Bloomberg, Wall Street Journal, Financial Times, and of course the New York Times.

For the writing part, I scribble everywhere: small notebooks, large ones, or my iPad. The latest iPadOS updates even embellish your writing, making the pill easier to swallow for those with doctors' writing style habits.

The power of writing is undeniable.

I wrote my latest YouTube short video script in my book first, before recording myself. I posted it without even thinking, it gathered 1.1k views. My all-time best shorts.

Don't overthink it.

Your content is for your audience, and it's your role to distribute it to the right people who'll vibe with it.

I don't care if my post has few likes and impressions. I repurpose everything I produce. This is not my house, the landlord is LinkedIN, and the algorithm sucks. You don't even know when great content is posted, because the notifications system is terrible.

Likes and comments don't matter. Post and forget about it, off to your next masterpiece, like in the art studio.

Empathy and timing.

Hurricanes are bad for business; no one hangs new art after one hit, they rush to save the old one!

I had a potential sale in Florida, and Milton (they always have some fancy names) struck a week after!

There's absolutely nothing you can do, except caring. It's hard, but it shows traits of your personality that set you apart.

Opportunities to bring happiness will occur, patience is art's best cousin. As a young artist, I struggled with it.

Thrive to inspire.

People don't know the power of art until it touches you and shatters all the certainty you have about life.

Yet, artists walk with their testimony on their backs and fail to show it. Living like a recluse in the studio, trying to master every brushstroke.

Then we wondered why the industry is in bad shape, because we lathered ourselves with vultures and Don Perignon bottles backstage, at the last art auction sale.

How inspiring!

I told you earlier about Ned and Will, they are my connections. If you think you can grab someone's attention by showing, from the get-go, how great your art is?

Nobody cares.

What do your connections don't know until you show them?

Relax, make friends: friends inspire each other.

The community behind.

People love you.

They love what you do. It's like a family, who wants to celebrate Thanksgiving every day, but doesn't know where to go. Where is the turkey and the gravy?

I have collectors who want to support my art, but are not ready to invest yet.

This is where my Patreon shines, the home where we celebrate, and where I am sure everyone is fed great art and content.

It is paramount. A patron could have seen so and so the other day, and suddenly you dropped in the conversation with this amazing abstract you painted.

Let your people shine, human nature wants to belong.

Nowadays, you can't touch Beyonce before the Beehive terminates you on sight. The Barbies are the ones you'll deal with if you attack Nicki Minaj.

I won't talk about Drake, because he is not like us. (see what I did there ??)

How should I name my tribe? Lions? (wait a minute, I am in Dallas, bad idea.)

Time is sacred.

At the beginning, I stated it was important to take a stand.

In my long experience in the art industry, I can tell you that some people will NEVER invest in you, never recommend you, or refer you to anyone.

Sometimes they tell you upfront, or they will lead you on.

For example, a prospect once told me he’d rather spend money in strip clubs than on art. Different strokes for different folks. I cut him loose and moved on, and he got mad.

Another one told me he’s "Brainwashed" (about the artist by that name) and would never have my pieces in his house.

Don't chase cats in a cul-de-sac. Time is sacred.

In my Evernote, I have a section called "Bad Apples." I know exactly who is who. Who should be on my guest list for future exhibitions, and who shouldn’t.

People want what they can’t have. An artist should protect his art at all costs.

The velvet rope policy.

Forget about your industry.

The art industry can be a bore, and often feels stagnant and repetitive. Exhibitions feel like the same old story—stiff settings, polite applause, and not enough innovation.

Attend other events—hospitality, real estate, construction, food. These industries are real opportunities for creative expression.

They’re often not creative enough, waiting for someone to show them how art can push their culture forward, waiting for an injection of vibrancy and fresh perspective.

Think about the atmosphere of a hotel lobby, a newly built high-rise, or a restaurant showcasing the best local cuisine. All these places have the potential to be transformed through art.

The issue with these industries is that they often lack the courage to take creative risks. They fall into the same traps, relying on standard decorations and cliché solutions. They rarely push boundaries, simply because stepping into the unknown feels risky—and no one wants to be the first to leap.

But creativity demands boldness. It’s our role as artists to bring that edge, to show them that taking risks can lead to something extraordinary.

Reward yourself.

When I was in Cameroon working on my design agency startup, every time I closed a deal, I’d celebrate by heading to my favorite Italian restaurant in town.

I’d order Penne speck alla Gorgonzola and a glass of wine. It became my ritual—a moment to breathe and pray, count my blessings. Food tastes different when you know that you earned your meal.

We shouldn't suffer, or die surrounded by unfinished canvases in a lonely studio. Joy is in the process. I celebrate the small wins.

Reward yourself for the work you put in, and give yourself permission to enjoy the fruits of your labor.

Now in Dallas, I continue that tradition, just in a different form. I love going to Latin bars and restaurants downtown.

Sometimes, I even take it up a notch and hit a rooftop pool with a DJ throwing down some serious RnB rotation.

I love the artist's life—the experiences, the indulgences, the celebrations.

Relax, enjoy it, because this is the life you dreamed about. Live it to the fullest. Take those moments, cherish them, and let them fuel you for the next project.

But hey, let’s be clear—don’t do drugs though.

Work on your weaknesses.

Every business has its weaknesses. I used to dread newsletters and writing like the plague.

Today, it's becoming second nature.

I want to improve my YouTube channel. I know it can leverage my Instagram and Twitter community. The goal is monetization.

Then why not have someone at PR, marketing, and sales, logistics? Scale things up.

I grew up watching my dad in his cosmetics lab doing it all, from the formulation to the packaging to, then going to his pharmacy and shift.

I don't want to do that for my practice.

It helps knowing how to sell, market, or brand, but my goal is to focus on making great content.

Burn Your Boats

When I saw the white coast of Nova Scotia from the airplane (I chose winter out of all seasons to land in New Jersey...), there was no doubt in my mind. I left my country to make it here, and there will be no return, no defeat.

I’d burn all the boats and fight this beast to the ground. Many times I’ve ended up behind the 8-ball, and that’s where I’ve seen the light. It’s crazy, but it’s when my back is against the wall that I shine.

I haven’t seen my family for four years; I miss them dearly. But one day, when I felt so alone as a teenager in high school in France, my late grandma told me over the phone from Cameroon: "Strap your heart."

Strap your heart, burn the boats—if it were easy, everybody would do it.

Consistency Is Key

Art is a conversation with oneself. In my case, it never stops.

Do I have doubts? Do I make calls every day and every week without feeling discouraged, wondering if maybe art isn’t for me? Of course.

No deals this week, I sent those emails and... crickets.

Reminding myself that it won’t be a win every day, and yet, I still have to show up consistently and give it all I’ve got.

The more you prospect, the more opportunities will come your way.

In Conclusion

The journey is the reward.

Shut down the voices, the naysayers, the failures.

There are no failures, just hard trials.

Celebrate the small victories along the way with those who love what you do, invest in you without even seeing you, and treat you like a son, a brother, and a friend.

This is ART!

When it’s past midnight, I’m writing or painting my heart and soul onto a blank canvas, and I think about my tribe.

This is the way!

Subscribe, like, and comment if you enjoyed this story, more to come!

Don't miss my previous article: No AI Can Draw Hands Like Me