My blog has relocated
Hello everyone,
TLDR: This blog has moved because the work looks better on my website and it’s quieter: www.petehalupka.com/digidaddy
After leaving social media nearly three years ago, I’ve slowly reclaimed my dopamine and attention span. I went from feeling hopeless and out of control—constantly checking my phone between every activity, unable to finish tasks, and being told my whole life that I had ADHD—to someone who now craves the friction of hard work, pursues monotony and problem-solving each day.
It’s possible to train your dopamine to be triggered by meaningful activities: cooking meals, building community, organizing, exercising, reading, and more. This is an ongoing journey, especially in today’s digital world. But the first step is reclaiming your dopamine from the endless scroll of social media and protecting the rarest asset we have: our attention.
Figuring out where and how to share my work has been a challenge. Even platforms like Substack are designed to be sticky. They encourage creators to email their audience every time they want to share something. This feeds a feedback loop of dopamine I’ve worked hard to break: “Did anyone email me? Like this? Comment?” Those responses can quickly spiral into doubts—“That must mean they don’t like it”—or inflated validation: “Wow, they love this!”
I’ve spent years limiting that noise to focus on intentional time, deep work, and creativity. The less algorithmic pressure I allow into my life, the more peaceful I feel. Validation from external sources, built on addiction and advertising revenue, no longer defines me. Instead, I strive to create work that reflects truthful articulations of my emotions, visions, and ideas. If someone likes it, that’s cool too.
But this raises a question: who do I share my work with? Where is the community that offers valuable feedback to help me grow? What form does that community take?
I’m currently moving through The Artist’s Way program, a twelve-week journey. For many years, my creative practice was shaped by trying to meet others’ expectations, particularly after negative experiences with a professor in New York. That need for approval became a turning point in my work. Not only did my art become uninspired, but it also became repetitive and iterative. I even emulated various professor’s styles to avoid criticism during critiques.
The less noise I create for myself in the digital space, the more clarity I find in my work and for my audience. Prioritizing quality, intentionality, and focus is better for me, the work, and the viewer.
This is all a long-winded way of saying I’ve decided to integrate my blog into my website. More importantly, I think my images look much better there—especially on a desktop, where the details come alive on a larger screen.
I’ve also started working on a new body of work titled Mountain Mint. I’ll share more about that soon.
Thanks for your support. You could do a lot of things but you chose to read this. I value that. I’d love to continue staying in touch.