Every creative has felt it: the slow month. The quiet shop. The steady drip of likes without sales. And lately, it’s easy to believe you’re alone in that. But here’s the truth—sales always dip. It’s not just you. It’s not just now. And most importantly, it’s not the end.
Art sales rise and fall seasonally, globally, and personally. They always have. What we’re seeing now isn’t a unique crisis—it’s a familiar pattern, made louder by social media and sharper by the state of the world. But understanding why it happens can make the quiet spells feel less like a personal failure, and more like part of the rhythm of creative business.
Here’s a bit of truth: sales go down every year, especially in the warmer months. People travel. Children are home. Big purchases pause. Discretionary spending shifts. Add to that the ongoing pressures of the housing market, rising costs of living, and general uncertainty, and of course many buyers are pulling back.
Even the art world’s giants feel it. From galleries to online platforms, summer is slow. It always has been.
But here’s the good news—sales always pick up again.
As we shift into late summer and early autumn, spending habits change. People return to routine. Collectors revisit their wishlists. Holidays come back into focus, and so do gifts, home décor, and quiet personal treats. You’ll often see a rise again in September, another spike in November, and sometimes a surprise run in January as people start fresh.
If your sales have been slow, that doesn’t mean your work isn’t good. It doesn’t mean your marketing is broken. And it absolutely doesn’t mean it’s time to give up. It means you’re part of a very human, very natural cycle—one that affects everyone, whether they sell watercolours or widgets.
So what can you do in the quiet times?
You rest. You reset. You review your shop or portfolio. You experiment, explore, play. You create without the weight of pressure, knowing that your audience will be ready again soon. Sales are seasonal. Creativity doesn’t have to be.
Let’s not feed the narrative that things are doomed. Things are changing. But art remains. Creativity adapts. And your work has a place—especially when the world feels uncertain.
If you’re in a lull, take heart. It’s not a dead end. It’s a bend in the road.
We’re all walking it together.
