Over the past few days, following the MakersPlace closure announcement, I’ve found myself reflecting on my early days in the Web3 space as an artist. That first year was filled with a pulsating energy, genuine optimism, and the birth of a disruptive creative movement unlike anything I’d ever experienced. In 2021, artists were hustling. It felt like a relentless race as we scrambled to find opportunities on platforms like SuperRare, MakersPlace, KnownOrigin, and Foundation. Market volumes were astronomical. Yet, contrary to what many might assume, it wasn’t the money that made it worthwhile. It was the community—the sense of belonging to something new and revolutionary. Although that energy has diminished—buried under greed, scams, conservative politics, and the long shadow of a bear market—the essence of that movement still exists in smaller, more intimate groups. Artists remain. They stay even when sales falter. They stay even when the broader narrative excludes them. They stay despite platforms succumbing to political agendas. It’s because of these resilient artists that I remain hopeful. Hopeful that the spirit of creation endures. Hopeful that our morals and integrity remain intact. Hopeful that art and culture will forever stand as the most authentic and meaningful pillars of this industry.