Once Upon a Time there was an Artist Named Garry Sanipass…

The Unabomber once warned in his manifesto that technology we treat as a luxury will eventually become a necessity. His point was that we’d be forced to adapt to the ever-changing pace of “advancement,” whether we like it or not. That warning feels more accurate every year.

It’s no longer enough to simply make a great product or create meaningful art. To survive, you have to market yourself. You have to find ways to get attention. Or… you could do what the Unabomber did—completely reject modern life and retreat to the forest.

In my case, I’m doing both at once: living off-grid in the woods while also trying to grow an online presence. But to be clear, I’m not recommending anything as extreme or destructive as building a shack and terrorizing people to get your message across. There are far less dramatic, more creative ways to make your point.

My Branding Struggle

I hand-make my pigments. I keep my work as natural as possible. But when it comes to branding—keeping a consistent visual message, repeating color palettes, sticking to a recognizable style across all my platforms—I’m still figuring it out.

I’m also wrestling with the need to post regularly. Marketing often gets in the way of my actual art-making. I’m on Twitch, YouTube, Facebook, Instagram, and WordPress… but without a clear, cohesive style, the content can feel scattered.

What I’m Learning

Consistency matters. Even if your work evolves, your core themes and visual language should stay recognizable. Good tools help. I’m looking for a better camera for streaming—it’s not about perfection, but about clarity and connection. Compelling content wins. People respond to thought-provoking ideas, not just pretty pictures. The story behind the work matters.

Marketing today is less about selling and more about inviting people into your world. I’m still learning to do that without letting it take over the art itself.

If the Unabomber’s warning was right, then maybe the best way forward is not to reject technology entirely, but to use it with intention—so we’re adapting on our terms, not just reacting to the machine.