Whatever the Shape of Your Dream, Protect It (With Teeth If Necessary)

This post is different. Please take a seat.

Let me tell you something I know in my bones: You don’t need to be a full-time artist to take your dream seriously.

I wrote something. A PDF to be precise - not very romantic I know. But I also wrote this shorter blog post - more romantic, maybe?

Whichever you decide to read, I wrote it with all my heart (very romantic), all in the cracks. In the early mornings, between work meetings, with a toddler jumping around, grieving, between brushstrokes, after long days where I almost gave up.

 

This blog post or the PDF aren't that romantic, but the content is. 
The are not just a guide. This is my dream, blog post and PDF shaped.

 

I’ve been painting all my life, but more specifically in the margins of my life since 2016.

Back then, I had a full-time job, not much more than a handful of followers on Instagram, and a dream that didn't go beyond painting for myself, once in a while. And then a message changed EVERYTHING and the dream shape-shifted into THE dream, sometimes ridiculous but very possible. 
So over the years I showed up. A little bit at a time.

Early mornings. Weekend studio sessions. Lunch breaks. Late nights.
Through a pregnancy, a house build, a pandemic, a toddler and all life kept throwing at me. I kept showing up. 

And over the years, I realised something:
There is no correct speed for a dream to grow. No right timeline. No "you should be further along", or this is the exact funnel that will make you grow to a 1M "money" a year. 

There's only the act of returning to it. Protecting it. Even when you’re tired.
Especially when you’re tired.

 

That’s what led me to write this blog post and the PDF, Whatever the Shape of Your Dream, Protect It (With Teeth If Necessary).

There's no formula, I'm afraid. This is not a “how to make 10k months”.
But it’s a love letter to the ones in-between. To the artists holding it all - work, life, emotions - and still finding the courage to make something.

I hope you feel seen. 

 

Inside the guide, I share what I’ve learned - not as a finished product, but as someone who’s still figuring it out alongside you.

Like how to keep your art alive in the middle of life. 
Not just in a romantic, paint-under-your-nails kind of way, but in the small, deliberate choices that let you come back to yourself again and again.

And how to create containers for your creativity, even if they’re just 20 minutes before the house wakes up, or mornings carved out with guilt still clinging to your ankles.

 

We’ve are sold lies about what it means to be “successful”. We’ve been taught that you have to go all in, burn bright, post daily, sell out.
That if you’re not making six figures or turning your art into a business overnight, then maybe you’re not serious.

But none of that is true. You get to define success for yourself. It can be quiet. It can be steady. It can be sustainable.

 

And then how rest is part of the work. 
Because sometimes, not painting is the bravest choice. Because looking, dreaming, and doing nothing can be just as important as doing everything.

You don’t need to earn your rest. You are allowed to pause. That’s part of protecting the dream, too.

 

What about the money side of things? The fears, the guilt...
Because art and finances are deeply tangled, and it’s okay to want stability and beauty. Because the stress of making art freely while still having bills to pay is deeply real.

Do you know how to price your work with clarity instead of shame? 
What are all your expenses?
What is sustainable for your life and what is the goal?

 

And then we need to talk about the consistency and what it all really means. Not a content calendar or a productivity sprint.

But you and your art, like in a relationship.

A commitment to return to the work, again and again, through grief and joy, through babies and burnout, through weeks where you thrive and weeks where you hide. You don’t have to show up every day. You just have to keep the door open.

 

Look, a lot has happened since 2016.
I cried when a mentor sent a note that read, “It doesn’t have to be perfect to be powerful”, I did an art fair six weeks pregnant and sick as a dog and on Sunday mornings when I step into the studio I feel like my lungs finally working again.

I didn't write this blog post or the PDF from a pedestal. I’m not “there” yet.
But I’ve built something real, something that keeps growing. And if you’re reading this, I think you are too.

If you want a companion on the road - not a guru - this blog post is for you and the PDF guide is for you too. 

 

You can learn more about it here.

And if it’s not the right time, that’s okay too. Things always move at the right kind of pace.

But let me tell you, that this is the guide I wish I had when I started.
And honestly, even now, I go back to the dream, the idea of it all, to remind myself what this is all for.

I made this for you. With love. With truth. With teeth.

Just promise me you’ll protect your dream. With love. With patience. With teeth, if necessary.