When it comes to artists and their communities, I am a lurker, and I don’t even pretend to be otherwise. I have a Discord account. I log in, read the updates, check to see if there is any cool art, and then I leave. Most of the time, I stay invisible.

Why? Because money sucks. Let’s just start with that. Money sucks even more when it is leveraged in traditional patriarchal¹ structures that position people and their labor as property. This is particularly a problem when artists (often–but not exclusively–women) create works that press on traditional sexual boundaries and roles and would like to receive money for that work. The purchasers of that content (often–but not exclusively–men) often consider the money they spend to be something more akin to a claim of ownership. I am sure this is a nightmare in sex work, in general, but I can only speak as someone who experiences this from a privileged external position.

I see this a lot in certain communities. Most of the people in the community are men, and there is always a kind of pedestal the artist is put on when they talk. This isn’t new or unique to adult work, but it is a challenge because even when the communities are positive, they are built on an implicit threat that support for the artist is contingent on maintaining that fiction. These aren’t really communities, then, they are just extended performance spaces². Spaces that force artists to hide themselves and their relationships because their “fans” might get upset. We know for a fact that this is an issue. Whales have tried to sue or recoup money they spent when they find the artist they were fantasizing about was actually a human being with, you know, friends and love interests.

Fantasy != reality. I love when people create hot shit. I love getting turned on by a performance. That doesn’t mean I want to date or fuck the artists. Sure, there are some characters I can get into, but those characters (and it is so dumb to have to say this) aren’t real. That is what makes fantasizing fun.

Of course, this goes deeper, right. Because that sense of ownership and control always ends up extending to content in some form. I think this is the worst part for some artists in any context. You want to grow? The work you did at 20 doesn’t fit you at 30? Tough! Your audience is full of stunted little people with more money than personality. They demand the same shit day-after-day. If you stop feeding them that shit, they stop buying. This is why so much content is slop, because there is no room for growth in a medium where what you posted 10 years ago is just as immediate as the newest work you posted. Creative evolution requires time and digital space flattens that time³.

Personally, I am interested in the artists as people. Anyone who sits down and does the work is interesting to me. I want to see them evolve and create new things. I want them to take risks. It is awesome to see artists with supportive partners and families or to hear them talk about the challenges that the work does put on those relationships. There are human beings behind this, and that is the best part⁴.

Do I have a solution? Not really. Maybe realize that no one has a claim on an artist because just they paid for work. That thought shouldn’t even be a thing. Maybe we could all agree that fandoms built around people instead of genres are kind of creepy by default and stop doing that. I don’t think that will happen, but it would be nice.