The Undercurrent

I started the day posting on IG and Zora. I’m on a mission to share every piece of artwork I’ve created — to finish the other side of the creative process: sharing the work with a clean narrative.

To honor it.
To connect with others.
To maybe inspire someone else to do the same — or to do it differently, or better.

For years, I didn’t document my process enough. I was in the habit of simply experiencing life instead of capturing it. I rarely took photos, often preferring not to be in them at all. I once read that, in Buddhist belief, a photo captures a piece of your soul. Maybe part of me always wanted to keep mine intact — to be selective with who I give it to.

But maybe it was also mystery.
Maybe insecurity.
Maybe paranoia around technology.
Maybe I just didn’t feel I had anything worth sharing.

Either way, I’m making it a daily practice to post. I might not write in depth like this every day, but I’ll try.

This space — this undercurrent — is where the things unsaid in person live. The layers beneath the surface. Each morning, I research how to share and tell stories online in a way that keeps the human element alive — through writing, imagery, and voice.

There’s a shift happening with AI and technology. I use some of these tools myself — to clean up my writing, to make it more professional and cohesive. It aligns with how I move in real life: clean, intentional, grounded — though I still joke and say things that cross lines with the people who know me best. They’ve built a stomach for it.

Moving forward, I’ll focus on carousel posts — clean, consistent layouts on IG and Zora, with the occasional lifestyle image to remind people I’m human. September was a month of deep observation — I studied many Zora profiles, cross-referenced their IGs, TikToks, and X accounts, and took notes on what felt aligned and what didn’t.

Now I know what I want:
An online presence that mirrors real life.
No clout chasing. No validation loops.

This is a passion project — an archive of my truth and process. If it reaches the right people and adds value, that’s enough. I want to invest in those who invest in me — in any way they can.

I don’t want my presence to only show the polished outcome. This past year has been full of emotional ups and downs, confusion, and clarity. It wasn’t always pretty, but it was real. If sharing that helps someone avoid the same struggles, it’s worth it.

I’ve come to believe that we choose our own suffering — and that realizing this is the first step toward accountability. I want more of that in myself and in the people around me.