"I just want to create something beautiful"

On finally choosing the harder path, letting art take priority, and what I'm leaving behind to get there

Dear reader,

It’s been a while since I last wrote a letter from within on here.

I took a naturally emerging break from social media, posting, writing and content creation in general. It felt good.

Since we’ve come back to Europe from Mexico in early September I’ve been focusing on just enjoying where I am.

Appreciating the buzz on the streets of Madrid. Bathing in the sun drenched turquoise waters of Puglia. Chatting with Chiara’s family in Sicily in my gradually improving Italian. Walking around the charming seaside of Cadaques in Catalonia. Tuning in with the calmness of Ericeira.

That’s where I am writing to you from. It’s pouring down outside and I’m sitting in a quiet coworking space typing these words for you.

I’ve taken time off to reflect on my path so far, where I am and where I am headed next. The last two years my focus has been on my business, creating content, growing across platforms, launching offers.

Creating the space to check in with myself to what extent am I aligned with myself, with what I truly want and if I am truly pursuing the life I want.

Here’s what emerged for me — and what might be helpful for you as you reflect on your own path.

Let’s start with the elephant in the room.

Something I haven’t talked much about in my socials lately.

art.

When I was working in financial tech sales in London, I’d often attend art exhibitions and meet different creatives. I remember hanging out with a group of photographers and artists on a canal boat home of someone I had just met at an exhibition opening night.

I was so fascinated by what they were working on. Their life, their adventures, their art. I remember talking to them and longing to live this kind of life.

But I was scared. I had 10+ excuses. “I first need to make more money”. “I need to work for a few years to get the British citizenship so I can stay here visa free”. “I’m creatively blocked — my dad never supported my creative pursuits when I was a kid”. Inside I was mostly doubting whether I could produce interesting and original work, doubting my own creative abilities.

There was always something to blame or something to hide behind. It was easier to blame it on something like money or someone like my dad than take responsibility for my dreams and go after them.

But let’s go back a little more.

At 13, I first discovered Photoshop and fell in love with taking pictures and doing creative edits.

At 15, I got my first Nikon DSLR camera and got obsessed with photographing anything from portraits of my brother to the beautiful light I’d notice while walking the streets of Brussels.

That same year I was graduating from high school and frankly I had no idea what to study. Part of me dreamed of pursuing a creative path like photography of architecture/interior design but it was too scary. That didn’t really feel like an option in my family — “a creative path is difficult to make money with” was the main concern.

My French also wasn’t fluent yet so I was a bit limited to the English-speaking programs that were in my city. So I followed the footsteps of my older sister and went to study business and economics. I had some interest in it to be fair, I liked studying how companies work, how they create products and make money. Investing felt like magic where you try to predict the future. So I thought to myself — I’ll make money working for or with a business and then I’ll pursue a more creative path.

Slowly over years, photography went to the back burner. I stopped taking pictures. Occasionally taking camera with me on trips, reminding myself not to forget what I truly care about. But each year, I would take less and less pictures. When I went to work in London after university, I almost didn’t take any.

I was too busy working. Partying. Studying for the CFA certification.

I doubled my salary in just 3 years of work, at 24 I was travelling in business class and staying in 5-star hotels.

Somehow I knew I was out of place, but I didn’t know what else to do. I’d often take the Eurostar train and the lounge had some aesthetic magazines like Cereal. I still remember going through the pages with awe and appreciation for the beautiful photography inside as well as the idea of traveling to all these places. It felt like a distant dream.

But over time, I started to feel more and more unhappy. Unfulfilled, stifled.

I started to take pictures again and learning to use film. Photography was one of the few things that would bring me joy. But at some point, I couldn’t take it anymore. I started to feel more and more burned out at work, forcing myself to do what I didn’t want to do. Tiring my body even further with a demanding schedule and frequent work travel.

One day, I had a panic attack at work. I couldn’t convince myself to continue anymore, my body and my psyche needed space. A break. I took a sick leave from work.

I tried many things to “heal”. I refused anti-depressants. I went deep into meditation, my study of Buddhism, yoga, psychedelic therapy, existential and somatic psychotherapy, neo-tantra/embodiment and lots of other New Age things.

But what was truly shifting something was creation itself. Going out with my camera and noticing the beauty around me. Writing from the heart.

At a 10-day silent Vipassana meditation retreat, I started to hear my inner voice more clearly after a few days of intense meditation. “I just want to create something beautiful. I just want to create something beautiful.”

I went through The Artist’s Way by Julia Cameron and that really moved something in me. I felt less blocked in my creativity, able to enjoy the process and fall in love with playing and experimenting rather than needing to produce a perfect result straight away.

As I got back to work, I went deeper into photography. I took an evening course in Reportage Photography at Saint Martin’s (University of Arts in London). My girlfriend at the time was modelling so I’d help her a lot with digis (neutral photos for modelling agencies), creating content for brands like Paco Rabanne, doing artistic shoots together.

At the same time, I started to explore analog photography, learning to develop film and print in the darkroom myself. I made a dummy for a photobook, trained in how to use studio lighting.

I built a modest following on Instagram (around 1.4k), a portfolio with a few series and started to get my first commercial clients and print sales.

I applied to open calls. Mentoring programs. Competitions. Awards. I got rejected for everything except being featured in a project by the British Journal of Photography. It was crushing. Even getting a job as a photography assistant was tough because I needed more technical knowledge in lighting and frankly I didn’t know so many people. It felt like an industry that still works a lot on “who you know” I never enjoyed these social games. My portfolio reviews would go nowhere and most of the time I felt discouraged by the critiques.

So my enthusiasm began to slowly fade. I started to doubt whether my art had any value.

And frankly, I wasn’t even enjoying commercial photography that much —whether it was interior or fashion jobs or even private portrait commissions. I just wanted to create art for the sake of it.

So I decided to focus on fine art photography, rather than commercial photography. To be fair, many commercial photographers were artists at heart but did these commissions because that’s how they’d make their own living. Art photography was different, somewhat less lucrative and slower but I knew artists that were making decent money from just selling their prints. That felt like magic to me.

But being a polymath at heart, it was hard to stay only on art photography. At the same time I was fascinated by the psyche and metaphysics. My strategic business side was also alive, so I’d experiment with trading, investing and even co-founded a angel-backed startup that would later fail. I loved writing too so started freelancing as a writer for companies and publications, later focusing my writing on my own content for the Nik Huno brand.

I attended various retreat, trainings in psychotherapy, coaching and facilitation and started working as a guide. Making money with guiding felt fulfilling and somehow easier than with photography — so I doubled down on this. Working with creatives as well as entrepreneurs.

After I built my guidance business, people started to ask me how they could do the same. That’s how the 3-hour Guidance Business was born—a concentrated blueprint of what actually worked (after dozens of mistakes). I’m reopening the course on November 17th for the last time as Iredirect that energy toward my art. If you’d like to sign up you can get on the waitlist here.

And while I’ve enjoyed guiding and channeling my creativity into my brand, something was still missing. I missed creating beauty. Creating art, not just “content”. Or another freebie. In some ways, making a living guiding others feels like a stepping stone and a source of support for my art practice. But it also feels increasingly like “easier” path that isn’t really the full picture. I will probably continue guiding as I enjoy mentoring others and holding space, but at this point I feel creation itself needs to — and wants to — take priority.

So I’ve made a decision. To really pursue my path in art.

It feels scary to admit that. To say that out loud. Whether it’s being a polymath, having ADHD or just being chronically incapable to commit to doing one thing — there’s a part of me that doesn’t want to commit in public because “what if I change my mind?”.

But I’m learning more and more — as I observe myself — that certain things keep coming back to my life, no matter what I try to do. And it’s only so long that I can resist it. There’s pain in resisting the calling. Or at least, it makes us dull. Indifferent and ultimately unsatisfied. And for me, I choose aliveness. Even if it comes with difficulty and uncertainty. I like the challenge.

taken by Chiara Elle

That said, I won’t stop at just “creating art”. I still have my strategic businessy side that I’ll channel into growing my brand and fine art practice — as well as working on an aesthetic business down the line. Be that a beautiful cafe, a carefully designed product or even a creative agency/studio. I’ll still be investing, not just in financial markets and crypto but also real estate and smaller projects I want to support. Maybe I’ll want to write, teach, create a physical space, run some retreats and workshops. But I realize more and more I want to live my life around my art, rather than put it somewhere aside as something to come back to time to time.

Recently this urge to create art has been coming back. And I’ve been torn again between choosing what “makes sense” or what sounds more lucrative like building a scalable app — versus choosing the somehow more difficult, less predictable path of making a living with art. I’ve shared this in a little mastermind I’m in with two other innerpreneurs. Opening up about how I’m torn between pursuing the artistic path vs following the lucrative opportunities. One of the friends reflected — maybe I don’t have to choose. Maybe the idea that it will be difficult to earn money this way is a limiting belief. And it really resonated.

I don’t want to build a VC-backed tech startup with a billion valuation in SF. I don’t even really want to build a bootstrapped B2B SaaS the indie way. I know my time in this life is limited and I prioritize how I spend it. Am I doing what I truly love? Am I truly pursuing my curiosities?

As for guidance, I think it will still play an important part in my life. But I am getting tired of this New Age social media game that while trying to avoid I’ve still become part of in some sense. The gurufication of creators and influencers is not exactly my cup of tea. I knew it was getting weird when people started to come to me to ask for my permission to call themselves “guides”. Whereas of course the only permission they need is from themselves.

I’d like to keep writing, tell stories, share wisdom or just my humble observations about life and the world around me. But you will notice a shift in what and how I create. Perhaps you already are through reading this — if you’ve been following me for a while. I’ll be sharing more of my art, but also about my process. How I think about creativity, taking pictures and even the business of art.

I’m drawn to going for a more cinematic style vlogging on YouTube with some more in-depth writing here on Substack. Perhaps Threads and X too for spontaneous thoughts.

Instagram for sharing my art as it still remains the best place for creatives despite algorithm difficulties. I actually have two Instagram accounts at this point and I am still unsure how I will reconcile that. One has 1.5k followers, which used to be my personal Instagram and then became my account for sharing art and connecting with other artists, collectors, galleries etc. The other one with 15k followers has been much more focused on sharing my stories, my advice around building a guidance business and also creativity and content creation. I’ll probably continue sharing my art on the smaller one and then do more storytelling/vlogging/behind the scenes content on the other one. Not quite sure yet but I’ll figure it out.

Within my existing art I feel the birth of a new direction too. I love my old work and at the same time I am experimenting with new approaches in my photography. I have been refining my visual style over time and while it hasn’t clicked completely yet, I’m in love with this process of mystery. I can’t share with you what comes out of it.

And then of course more in the physical world. Printing my work, doing exhibitions and traveling to art hubs and photography festivals to nurture my connection to this community. To be honest, the virtual world feels like my comfort zone. Information exchange, social media, software even. The physical aspect of dealing with things like logistics, buying materials, sending my art feels a bit intimidating. But I think it will bring a lot of the tangibility and groundedness I also need in my life. Especially as I rebuild a base and a home somewhere.

I’ve got more to share about what I plan to do with my business, my brand, my health, my home and even my relationships. But more on this in my next letters. It’s been a while since I’ve written to you so there’s a lot to unpack.

For now, I’m grateful you read this with me till the end. I didn’t use AI in writing this and I haven’t edited it much. So maybe it’s a bit long and unstructured, but I am strongly preferring this natural flow of writing to a polished article written with AI assistance.

I’d love to hear from you though. What resonated most for you from this letter? What are you most curious about now?

I’ll be sharing more about this journey. This messy journey of building an art practice, the creative experiments, the logistics of exhibitions and print sales, how to think about the business of art without losing the soul of it. If something specific calls to you, let me know. Otherwise, I’ll just keep showing up and sharing what emerges.

Thank you for reading this far. It means more than you know.

Alright.

Nik Huno

P.S. If in the meantime you’d like to follow what I create with my art, the best place for now is my art Instagram account.