My short timelapses and warm-ups actually came from a place of pressure — the fear of falling behind, of losing attention because I had nothing to post, even though I was working behind the scenes. But they also allowed me to embrace imperfection and reminded me that discomfort doesn’t have to overwhelm me — I can still choose how to respond.

And from that same discomfort, something meaningful was born. I realized how common this is among artists — the struggle to feel worthy without constant output. And when we blame either the outside world or ourselves, we lose the chance to be curious and kind with what we find.

This isn’t just about social media. It’s about the belief that we only matter if we’re productive — a belief rooted in the lack of support many artists experience, even from those closest to them.

I’ll share more in a blog post soon, because this is something I care about deeply and I firmly believe that if people observed carefully the roots of their pain, they could finally let go of that suffocating, inexistent perfection and see it for what it really is: a coping mechanism, a silent rebellion for feeling unworthy and unloved by a society that was never gentle with artists.