Does Marketing Belong in the Studio?
Finding a more sustainable place for our marketing practice
By Sue Pendleton, Founder
For a long time, I thought one of ENSOhello's goals was to make marketing feel more aligned with studio time. I wanted it to feel less like office work. Less like a chore. Less like something that pulls artists out of their creative flow.
And I still believe that matters. But lately, I’ve been wondering if I had part of it wrong.
Maybe the goal is not to make marketing feel like studio time. Maybe the goal is to help marketing find a better place in the rest of our lives so that studio time can stay studio time.
When the Creative Practice Needs Protection
I’ve been thinking about this because of my own art practice.
For the last six years or so, I’ve been working hard on my painting fundamentals. Technique. Color. Value. Composition. The kind of foundational work that takes time, repetition, frustration, and return.
And recently, I’ve felt like I’ve reached an interesting place. Not finished. Definitely not finished. But more confident. The fundamentals are stronger. I can feel it. At the same time, I’ve had this strange feeling that I’m standing on top of a mountain trying to say something. And no sound is coming out.
I know there is something I want to say with my art. I just keep getting stuck before I can fully speak it.
An Accidental Shift in My Schedule
For a long time, I painted in the mornings. That made sense. Morning is when I’m most focused. It’s when my brain is sharpest. It’s when I can think strategically, solve problems, make plans, and execute.
But a couple of weeks ago, my schedule got out of rhythm. Normally, if I missed my morning painting time, I would just not paint that day. But I’ve been trying to build my art practice right alongside my marketing practice, so I didn’t want to skip it.
I painted in the late afternoon instead. Then I did it again. And then I painted after dinner.
And something very interesting happened.
When My Work Brain Got Tired
In the morning, my “work brain” is fully awake. That’s incredibly useful for ENSOhello. It helps me think through strategy, make decisions, organize ideas, solve problems, and move projects forward. But when I brought that same brain into my painting practice, I think it may have been a little too present.
By late afternoon, that part of my brain is tired. It sits back a bit. And when it sits back, something else seems to step forward.
I have been more experimental.
More willing to take risks.
More likely to try something without knowing exactly where it will go.
Sometimes it works. Sometimes it turns into something else. But the shift has been profound. I still do not feel like I have fully found my voice as an artist. But I do feel like some rough, gravelly notes are finally starting to come out. And honestly, that is exciting.
Maybe Marketing Belongs Somewhere Else
This experience made me rethink something. Maybe I shouldn’t be trying to tuck marketing into my most protected creative time. Maybe marketing doesn’t need to live inside the art-making part of my life.
Maybe it belongs somewhere else.
For me, that “somewhere else” has been my ENSOhello work time. When I started my own 90-day focus on my personal art marketing practice, I folded those marketing tasks into the part of my day where I was already doing strategy, planning, writing, scheduling, and business work.
And suddenly, it felt easier. Not effortless. But easier. Because I was not asking my studio time to become marketing time. I was asking my practical work time to hold the practical work of sharing my art.
That distinction matters.
Artists Have Whole Lives
Most artists are not building an app for artists, so their rhythm will not look exactly like mine. But most artists do have parts of life that are already practical.
Paying bills.
Answering emails.
Managing calendars.
Making appointments.
Updating a website.
Planning for a show.
Packing work.
Checking messages.
Maybe marketing fits better there. Not because marketing is uncreative. But because it asks for a different kind of energy than making art. It asks for decisions, words, links, reminders, captions, next steps, and consistency. That is not the same as standing in front of a canvas, finding your way into an idea, or letting the work surprise you.
The App Still Matters
This realization has not made me believe less in ENSOhello. It’s made me understand the need more clearly. Artists still need help with the marketing part.
They need a way to begin.
A way to keep going.
A way to turn thoughts into captions.
A way to share without getting pulled into the scroll.
A way to schedule ahead when life gets busy.
A way to make the practical work of visibility feel less overwhelming.
That is still necessary. Maybe even more necessary. Because if marketing is going to live in the practical part of life, it needs to be easier to start and easier to return to.
It needs structure.
It needs prompts.
It needs guidance.
It needs support.
It needs to feel less like staring at a blank box and more like talking through what is already there.
The Goal Is Not to Make Marketing Feel Like Painting
This is the bigger shift for me. The goal may not be to make marketing feel like painting. The goal may be to keep marketing from stealing from painting.
To make it lighter.
Clearer.
More guided.
More sustainable.
So the artist can share the work without sacrificing the part of the practice where the work is actually made. That feels more honest to me. And more useful.
Studio time is studio time. Marketing still matters. But maybe it needs its own place to live.
