Expand Your Art Circle
Growing an audience close to home
By Sue Pendleton, Founder
There’s an expression I’ve heard often in the art world: “Find your art tribe.” I understand what people mean by it, even though I sometimes hesitate over the phrase itself.
It’s the idea of finding the people who understand this part of your life. The people who know what it means to care deeply about making things. The people who will talk about color, edges, composition, paper, clay, canvas, light, process, doubt, progress, and all the strange little details that become part of an art practice.
Maybe I’d call it something else. My Art Circle. That feels right to me. And lately, as I’ve been thinking about marketing, email lists, social media, and all the ways artists try to “grow an audience,” I keep coming back to this idea:
Most artists may already have more of a circle than they realize.
The question isn’t always, “How do I find a completely new audience?” Sometimes the better question is: Who’s already here? And how might this circle grow from where it is?
My art circle started in little Zoom squares
When I started painting again, it was during the Covid lockdown. Like so many people, I was alone more than I wanted to be. My world had become smaller. Everything felt uncertain and strange.
And then I started painting again through a Zoom art class. The teacher was an artist my husband and I knew and had formed a relationship with over the years. I already loved her work. I trusted her eye. I felt safe beginning there. At first, it was a class. Then, over time, the people in those little Zoom squares became something much more.
We learned from our teacher.
We learned from each other.
We shared our work.
We offered suggestions and ideas.
We welcomed feedback.
We talked about what was working, what was not working, where we were stuck, what we were trying to figure out.
And, because life was happening all around us, we also shared more than the paintings. There were births. Illnesses. Losses. Even death.
By the time lockdown ended, I had something I didn’t expect. A real art circle. A group of people who knew my work, cared about my progress, understood the language of the practice, and had become part of my creative life.
Years later, that circle is still going strong.
The circle kept growing in other directions
That class was one part of my art circle. But it wasn’t the only part. Over time, I started to notice other groups forming around my work. Old friends who follow me on Facebook and Instagram. People I went to college with. People I worked with years ago — decades ago, in some cases. Former neighbors. Random acquaintances. People who knew me from one chapter of life and somehow became interested in this newer chapter.
Some of those people are now the ones who comment most often on my work. Some have bought my paintings. Some cheer me on. Some remember places I paint. Some respond to the story behind a piece. Some simply like watching the practice unfold.
Then there’s my husband’s family. Cousins. Second cousins. Extended family members I’ve grown closer to, partly because they follow my art, care about the journey, and have even purchased my work.
That surprised me. Not because they aren’t lovely people. But because I don’t think I would have fully understood, years ago, how art could become a point of connection inside an extended family.
The work gave us something to gather around. A shared point of conversation. A reason to stay a little more connected.
That matters.
Audience growth doesn’t have to start with strangers
Here’s where I think many artists, myself included, can get stuck. When we hear marketing language like “grow your audience” or “build your email list,” we may immediately imagine strangers. A sea of strangers. People who have never heard of us. People scrolling past. People we somehow have to attract, impress, convince, or interrupt.
It can start to feel like standing on a random street corner, ringing a bell, hoping someone will stop and pay attention.
No wonder it feels exhausting.
But what if that’s not the only way to think about it? What if growing our audience can begin much closer to home? What if our future circle is already hinted at inside our current circle?
That changes the feeling for me. Because I do have people around my work. They may not all belong to the same group. They may not all connect with my art for the same reason. But they are there.
Artist friends.
Teachers.
Mentors.
Past buyers.
Old friends.
College friends.
Former coworkers.
Neighbors.
Family members.
Extended family.
Local supporters.
Gallery contacts.
Social media followers.
Newsletter subscribers.
People who quietly notice.
When I look at it that way, my audience is not one vague crowd. It has shape. It has clusters. It has history. It has relationships. It has real people inside it.
Our circle has smaller circles inside it
This is where a very traditional marketing idea becomes helpful. The idea is called audience segmentation. That simply means recognizing that our audience is made of different groups of people who may connect with our work in different ways. In business language, that can sound cold. But for artists, it can be very human.
Because a past buyer may not need the same kind of message as a fellow artist.
A local supporter may not need the same invitation as a gallery owner.
An old friend may not connect with the same story as someone who just discovered our work online.
A cousin who loves our art might be able to introduce our work to another family member.
A classmate might understand our process in a way a casual follower does not.
A gallery contact might appreciate a thoughtful update.
A neighbor might respond to a local scene.
A past buyer might love a first look at a new piece.
Different groups may need different doorways. And once we can see those groups, growing our circle can become much more practical. Not giant. Not random. Not “go find everyone.”
Just:
Who is one more person like this?
Who might this person know?
What would help this group feel a little more connected?
What invitation would make sense here?
Expanding the circle, one person at a time
This is the part that makes marketing feel more doable to me. Instead of thinking:
I need a huge audience.
I need thousands of followers.
I need strangers to find me.
I can think: Could I add one more person to this circle?
One more person in my art class world.
One more local supporter.
One more old friend who might enjoy seeing what I’m making.
One more person on my email list.
One more gallery contact.
One more collector.
One more neighbor.
One more friend-of-a-friend.
One more person who might care.
That feels different. It feels less like selling. It feels more like cultivating. And cultivating is something artists understand. We don’t force everything to bloom at once. We notice what is already growing. We tend to it. We give it light. We make space.
We plant another seed.
Existing interest is not nothing
I think artists can accidentally dismiss the people already around them. We assume “real marketing” means reaching people who don’t know us yet. But someone who already knows us, follows us, comments on our work, bought something once, came to a show, took a class with us, or asked how the painting was going — that’s not nothing.
That’s existing interest. And existing interest is valuable. It may not always lead directly to a sale. But it can lead to connection. A share. A referral. A conversation. A commission inquiry. A show invitation. A newsletter signup. A word-of-mouth introduction. A person thinking of us when they need a gift. A person remembering our work when they see an opportunity.
Marketing doesn’t always begin with a cold audience. Sometimes it begins with the warmest edges of the circle we already have.
We can grow from where we are
This is what I’m trying to remember. I don’t have to go stand on a street corner and shout for attention. I don’t have to imagine my audience as a faceless crowd of strangers. I don’t have to build everything from scratch.
I can look at the people already near the work. I can notice the smaller circles inside the larger one. I can ask how each one might grow.
Maybe I send a note to a past buyer.
Maybe I invite a local friend to bring someone to a show.
Maybe I let family members know a set of cards is available.
Maybe I share a studio update with someone who once asked about my process.
Maybe I ask an artist friend about a local opportunity.
Maybe I add one clearer invitation to my website or email list.
Maybe I follow up with one person who already showed interest.
None of that feels like chasing strangers. It feels like creating more doorways.
Our future circle may already be visible
The more I think about this, the more I believe that many artists aren’t starting from nothing. We may be starting with a circle we haven’t fully recognized yet.
A circle that looks small only because we haven’t mapped it.
A circle that feels random only because we haven’t noticed its shape.
A circle that could grow if we tended to it with more intention.
Our future audience may already be hinted at in the people who are paying attention now.
The person who comments.
The former coworker who keeps liking your posts.
The cousin who bought a painting.
The neighbor who asks what you’re working on.
The fellow artist who shares an opportunity.
The teacher who believes in your progress.
The local supporter who shows up.
The friend who says, “You should tell people about this.”
Those people are not outside our marketing practice. They are part of it. Not because you’re trying to use them. Because connection is how art moves through the world.
One person sees the work. One person remembers it. One person shares it. One person comes closer. One person invites another person in.
That’s how a circle grows. Not all at once. Not everywhere. One thoughtful connection at a time.
