(The following is a transcript of a podcast you’re hearing in your head. Let’s say the mic is on, the coffee’s gone cold, and we’re already 20 minutes into a digression about the existential dread of an empty Google Doc. We’re just getting to the point. Maybe.)
LOOK, ALRIGHT? LET’S TALK.
You’re an artist. A writer. A musician. A maker of weird little things that only you truly get. Your brain is a beautiful, chaotic, haunted mansion of ideas. Ghosts of brilliant concepts float down the hallways. Demons of self-doubt lurk in the coat closet. And the furnace—the creative furnace—it’s either roaring at 3 AM when you have to be up at 7, or it’s stone-cold dead on a Tuesday afternoon when you finally have “time to create.”
So what do you do? You wait. You wait for the lightning bolt. For the muse to descend, presumably from some celestial coffee shop, and bless you with the perfect idea at the perfect time. And then you scramble. You feverishly paint, or write, or record, or film. And it’s great. It’s authentic! It’s art!
Then you post it. Into the void. And the void goes… crickets.
Maybe you get a few likes from your mom and that one super supportive friend who likes everything. And then you feel the hangover. The “okay, now what?” The slow, sinking realization that you have to do it again. Soon. But you have no idea what “it” is. So you stare at the blank canvas, the blinking cursor, the empty timeline, and the demons in the closet start whispering: “See? Told you. One-hit wonder. Fraud. Maybe you should just binge-watch that show instead.”
STOP. JUST… STOP.
What if I told you there’s a way to quiet the demons, to schedule the muse’s visits, and to turn that haunted mansion into a moderately organized, functioning creative headquarters? Not by selling out, but by showing up. For yourself.
It’s called a Content Calendar. And before you roll your eyes and say “That’s for social media managers and brands, I’m an artist,” let me get real with you.
This isn’t about becoming a robot. It’s about building a rhythm. It’s not a corporate cage; it’s the trellis your weird, beautiful vine can actually grow on. It’s the difference between screaming into a storm and building a microphone.
PART 1: THE “WHY” – OR, HOW TO STOP FEELING LIKE A HAMSTER ON A MELTED WHEEL
Look, I get it. The word “calendar” evokes dental appointments and quarterly taxes. It’s not sexy. But think of it this way:
The Amateur Waits for Inspiration. The Professional Shows Up.
Did the greats just wait? Maybe some. But most? They had a practice. A routine. Hemingway wrote every morning. Twyla Tharp has her literal “box” for every project. A content calendar is just that: a practice for your public creative conversation.
Benefit 1: It Fights the Frenzy (And the Fear).
That panicked “I need to post something today!” feeling? Gone. It’s on the calendar. Done. You’ve already decided. It frees your mind from the marketing noise and lets it get back to the actual work. You’re no longer a firefighter; you’re an architect.
Benefit 2: It Turns Scattered Ideas into a Cohesive Story.
That painting you did, that poem you scribbled, that behind-the-scenes photo, that rant about your craft—they’re not random droplets. With a calendar, you can line them up. You can say, “This month, the story is ‘The Struggle with Blue.’” Every post becomes a chapter, not a desperate shout.
Benefit 3: It Builds a Bridge to Your People.
People can’t follow you if you’re a ghost. Consistency isn’t about algorithms (okay, it’s a little about algorithms), it’s about being a reliable voice. If someone loves your work on a Tuesday, they should know where to find you next Tuesday. A calendar builds that trust. It says, “I’m here. This is my space. Welcome.”
Benefit 4: It Gives Your Work a Fighting Chance.
Posting your masterpiece at 2 AM on a Sunday because you just finished it? That’s like hanging a painting in a museum after hours. A calendar lets you think strategically: “When are my people actually online?” “Should this big reveal happen before the gallery opening?” It’s basic respect for the work you’ve made.
Benefit 5: It Saves Your Sanity.
“What should I post?” is a creativity-sucking vampire. Decide once, in a batch. Spend a rainy Sunday plotting out three weeks of ideas. Then, for the next 21 days, you just execute. The creative part is done. The mental load is lifted. You’re welcome.
PART 2: THE “HOW” – OR, GETTING THIS MONSTER OUT OF YOUR HEAD AND ONTO PAPER
Alright, so you’re convinced. Or at least curious. How do we do this without killing your soul? We start small. We start analog.
Step 1: The Brain Dump (The Exorcism).
Get a notebook. A big one. Open it. Now, vomit every single idea you have for things you could share.
That snippet of a new song? Write it down.
A photo of your messy desk? Note it.
A question you have for your followers? Jot it.
An old piece you never showed anyone? List it.
A rant about your tools? Record it.
Don’t judge. Don’t organize. Just expel the ghosts from the mansion. This is your Idea Bank. It will never be empty again.
Step 2: The Pillars (What’s Your Show About?).
Every good artistic practice has themes. So do you. What are the 3-5 pillars of your creative universe?
Examples:
The Art Itself: Finished pieces, works in progress, details.
The Process: Sketches, tools, failures, studio tours, technical deep-dives.
The Artist’s Life: Influences, rants, what you’re reading/watching, struggles, joys.
The Community: Q&As, fan features, collaborations, behind-the-scenes of a show.
Assign each idea from your Brain Dump to a pillar. Now you’re not just posting randomly; you’re developing different threads of your story.
Step 3: The Rhythm (Finding Your Beat).
You don’t have to post every day. That’s a path to burnout. Be realistic.
The Minimalist: 2-3 times a week. (e.g., “Work-in-Progress Wednesday,” “Finished Piece Friday”).
The Consistent: Once a day on weekdays.
The Storyteller: 4-5 times a week, with a clear narrative arc through the week.
Pick a rhythm you can sustain without weeping. Consistency > Frequency. Every. Time.
Step 4: The Grid (Building the Trellis).
Now, get a calendar. A physical one on the wall, a whiteboard, a Google Sheet, a Notion doc—whatever you’ll actually look at.
Label your pillars with colours. Blue for Art, Red for Process, etc.
Now, block it out. Look at the month.
Got a gallery opening on the 25th? Block that week for teasers, studio prep, the story of the pieces.
Launching a book on the 15th? That month is a countdown: cover reveal, chapter excerpt, inspiration, pre-order reminders.
No big event? That’s fine. Weave your pillars. Monday: Moody process shot (Red). Wednesday: Detail of a finished work (Blue). Friday: A rant about your favorite pen (Yellow).
The Secret Sauce: Batching.
You wouldn’t bake one cookie at a time. Don’t create content that way. Pick a “Content Day.” On that day:
1. Create: Shoot 10 photos of your workspace, your tools, your current piece from different angles.
2. Write: Draft captions for 3-4 posts. Be yourself. Tell a story. Ask a question.
3. Schedule: Use a free tool like Buffer, Later, or even Meta Business Suite to drop those posts into the calendar. Set the times.
Now, for the rest of the week, you’re free. You’ve done your public talking. Now go back to the private work.
PART 3: THE STRUCTURE – WHAT’S ACTUALLY ON THE DAMN THING?
Your calendar can be simple. Each entry should have:
1. Date & Time: (Schedule it for when your people are awake).
2. Platform: Instagram? Newsletter? TikTok? (Pro-tip: Repurpose! A long Instagram caption can be a newsletter snippet.)
3. Pillar/Theme: (e.g., “Process – Sketching”).
4. Content: (e.g., “Close-up video of sketchbook, time-lapse, pencil shavings.”)
5. Caption/Hook: The first sentence. The most important part. (“You ever ruin a sketch 90% of the way through? Let me show you my latest faceplant.”)
6. Asset Location: (Link to the photo in your Drive, Dropbox, etc. So you’re not searching.)
7. Call to Action (CTA): What do you want them to do? (“Tag an artist who gets it,” “Check the link in my bio for the full piece,” “Comment with your disaster stories.”)
PART 4: THE COME-TO-JESUS MOMENT – IT’S A LIVING DOCUMENT
This is the most important part: Your Content Calendar is Not the Law. It’s a guide.
The muse might strike. You might create something incredible and spontaneous. POST IT. That’s what the calendar is for! It gives you the foundation so that when you do go off-script, it’s a brilliant improvisation, not a desperate plea for attention. Just swap out a scheduled post. It’s fine. The calendar police aren’t coming.
This whole thing… it’s not about building a brand. It’s about building a practice. It’s about honouring the work enough to give it a proper introduction to the world. It’s about quieting the chaotic noise in your head so the real creative signal can come through.
It’s the difference between being a guest on your own creative journey and being the host of the show.
So get a notebook. Make the coffee. Let’s start the brain dump. The demons in the closet hate a plan.
Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go look at my calendar and see what I’m supposed to be pissed off about tomorrow.
(End of tape)
If you found this useful, then you might be interested in my book “Digital Marketing for Creatives” – it’s over on Amazon and it’s aim is to get creatives marketing effectively so they can spend more time making that creative thing they make and not losing hours doing marketing. You can find it here .
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