Integrating work, family and art in a way that is sustainable.

My Hypno Bats are probably still out there somewhere, suspended in the digital ether. Hundreds of them. Different colours, slight variations, small evolutions of the same strange creature. I minted them across multiple NFT platforms during the boom, when it felt like artists were being handed a new set of keys. Upload the work. Tokenise it. Own the rails. Bypass the gatekeepers.

For a moment, it looked like a genuine shift. The sale of Everydays by Beeple at Christies became the headline that circled the globe. Ninety three million dollars for a digital collage. It was framed as a turning point for creators. Yet not long after, trading volumes dropped, platforms folded and valuations recalibrated sharply. Many artists, myself included, were left with minted collections sitting on marketplaces that no longer functioned as promised.

What I find quietly fascinating is the timing. During that boom, artists were encouraged to upload high resolution, carefully tagged, stylistically distinct work at scale. Vast archives of digital imagery were made public, structured and searchable. Then AI image models accelerated into mainstream use, trained on enormous datasets of online visuals.

No conspiracy theory required. Just incentives lining up. Creators were motivated to publish everything. Platforms benefited from traffic and visibility. Machine learning systems consumed what was available. Stolen art became training material for models that now generate free art at speed.

The promise of liberation through the latest platform often hides a different kind of dependency. My Hypno Bats did not create financial freedom. They did, however, teach me about cycles.

What is the biggest challenge you will face in the next six months?

That context makes my next chapter feel grounded rather than reactive. After twenty five years of building my own ventures, from Road Movie Mobile Cinema travelling through country towns to running a cafe gallery in Jamestown, I am stepping into a nine to five role as a hospital maintenance officer.

Practical work that supports a place where people heal. Systems that need attention. Infrastructure that matters. After decades of carrying full responsibility for income, logistics and risk, I am looking forward to contributing to a team and learning new processes within an established environment.

A steady wage brings stability. It allows me to plan properly, invest in quality materials for my art practice and upgrade podcast equipment without financial strain. Instead of chasing speculative waves, I can build slowly and deliberately. Stability strengthens creativity. It does not diminish it.

The adjustment will be physical and mental, as any new role is. Different hours. Different routines. My focus over the next six months is simple. Stay healthy. Manage energy wisely. Show up fully at work and maintain a consistent creative rhythm outside those hours. Not frantic output, but steady practice.

Art has always been foundational for me. It supports mental clarity and purpose. Projects like Uncommon Animals of the Alphabet are long term by design. They are not dependent on hype cycles or digital marketplaces. They grow through patience, research and craft.

If the NFT season taught me anything, it is that trends are temporary. Solid skills, meaningful work and financial steadiness endure. The hospital role is not a retreat from creativity. It is part of building a resilient base that allows it to flourish without constant economic pressure.

My first Hypno Bats can remain as artefacts of a particular moment in digital history. Useful lessons wrapped in wings. The next six months are less about chasing the next big shift and more about integrating work, family and art in a way that is sustainable.