Pivot Points and the New Year

“Life can only be understood backwards; but it must be lived forwards.”
— Søren Kierkegaard

This is the time of year when activity naturally slows for visual artists.

The calendar relaxes. Shows take a break. Emails slow down. The pressure to keep producing lifts a little, making room for reflection. This time also offers the chance to look ahead and consider what you want to change or improve in the coming year.

Because this pause is predictable and shared, it isn’t an organic pivot point. It’s a prompted one. Plans are made. Resolutions are set. Actions are taken with intention because you’re seeking a specific outcome.

But there is another kind of turning point, one that arrives quietly and without warning.

These turning points come from things you do without thinking about the bigger picture. You are not trying to change direction. You are responding out of curiosity, or saying yes to something that seems helpful or engaging in the moment.

A Red Rock News clipping from 2004 surfaced recently and reminded me of one of those quiet moments that changed everything.

It announced a Publishing Your Art workshop at the Sedona Arts Center. At the time, it felt like a small local item. Looking back, it marked the beginning of something much larger.

It began as a lark. Mary and I had recently moved to Sedona and spontaneously decided to spend the day visiting artists during the annual Sedona Visual Artists Coalition studio tour.

The experience was relaxed and enjoyable. In the course of those conversations, I shared the same practical advice I’d been offering artists for years—simply being myself, with no plan behind it. I left with invitations to speak at the SVAC monthly meeting, which soon led to an offer to teach a six-hour workshop on publishing your art for the Sedona Arts Center.

That single invitation to produce a day-long workshop set the next twenty years in motion—weekly blogging, books, courses, and workshops—all focused on helping artists get their work to market with joy and intention.

What strikes me now is how mundane the moment felt at the time. I wasn’t trying to build anything. I wasn’t thinking about a career arc or a long-term plan. I shared what I knew because it seemed helpful at the time.

I didn’t plan to turn that knowledge into a workshop, and I certainly didn’t expect it to shape the next two decades of my career. Only in hindsight can I see how that simple encounter became a turning point—one that eventually led me to write this for you now.

When who you are and how you show up are aligned, recognition tends to follow. That’s what I call Being on Brand. It creates a coherent, palpable quality that makes it easier for the right people to find you. And when they do, doors can open that you never knew were there.

Your followers’ perception of you is your brand. Your actions and behavior are the signposts they read. People experience who you are over time—and that’s what draws them closer.

This time of year creates a pause. It offers a chance for a reset that we need now and then—a little space to take stock and make choices with intention.

I hope the next few weeks give you some breathing room, some clarity, and maybe the beginning of a turning point you didn’t expect.

This is my last post of the year. I’m taking a short break as the calendar turns.

Best wishes for a safe and enjoyable holiday season and a prosperous New Year.

I’ll see you in January.

Barney