Something’s been cooking.
This is the first audio transmission from ( ritual ) creative (!!)
A spoken version of the longform Substack essay I launched with a few weeks ago called “Minimum Shippable Beauty (MSB)”, complete with an original score and, at the very end, an unreleased track of mine called New Horizon.
The essay explores a pattern most creators know intimately: holding finished work hostage to the feeling of “not quite ready.” What if that resistance isn’t a warning to keep polishing—but a threshold asking you to step through?
It’s both an investigation of why we delay shipping vulnerable work, and the origin story of why ( ritual ) creative exists at all.
It’s a few days later than my usual Friday rhythm, and there’s something to learn in that.
I’ve been feeling the weight of the commitment I made weeks ago: weekly essays, indefinitely? The excitement of launch has worn off. The messy middle has arrived. And I’m sitting in the question: what’s the sustainable cadence here? What serves the work AND my capacity?
This tension between the sketchbook (trying new things, offering myself grace) and the seeds of a business (maintaining rhythm, building trust) is the Artist ↔ Entrepreneur polarity I wrote about recently. There’s no resolution to this tension. Just practice in learning to navigate it.
So here’s what happened: I wanted audio. Audio is much more native to me as a filmmaker and musician. But it also adds layers of production and complexity. What started simple—”I’ll just record a spoken version”—predictably ballooned. Maybe it should have a score and sound design? And maybe with my own original music? Scope creep, the creative’s familiar companion, showed up right on schedule.
But it’s also a beautiful thing when it’s emerging from excitement around what’s possible rather than a feeling of endlessly needling at “it’s not quite enough.” And damn, it’s fun (and a lot of work) to shape an audio transmission like this.
I’m learning a ton about workflow:
How to best translate completed written essays into to spoken form
What programs to use—Ableton? Or my more native Premiere for audio edits and transcriptions?
How do I pull unfinished musical ideas in from other Ableton sessions?
Am I going to rerecord for vocal cracks and delivery, or let it be? What about comprehensibility challenges in this new medium?
Ultimately my M.S.B. line was: I’m shipping this week, even if it’s a few days late. I’m not going to needle my recorded voice endlessly or worry too much about the comprehensibility of the whole flow. I’ll apply those learnings to the next version. But I did lean in a bit on the score and sound design, which was fun.
It took a few days longer than anticipated, but the plane has landed.
Why audio, why now
As much as I’m enjoying Substack, even I struggle with reading long-form essays. Audio and video have always been part of the vision for what ( ritual ) creative could become. But in the spirit of MSB, I wanted to keep things simple to start—just writing, just shipping.
And yet. Here we are.
The work wants what it wants. And sometimes the minimum shippable beauty for one piece is different than another. This one wanted sound.
What I’m learning about sustainable rhythm
The honest truth: I don’t know yet what the right cadence is. Whether audio becomes a regular feature or an occasional experiment. Whether weekly essays is the rhythm that serves this work long-term, or whether something else wants to emerge.
I’m doing my best to hold two truths at once:
The voice that says: You’re trying something new. Shipping this a few days late is fine. Give yourself grace. This is the messy middle every creator moves through.
And the voice that says: Keep the rhythm. Don’t let your guard down. Consistency builds trust. The container matters.
Both are true. Neither resolves the other.
What I’m learning: committing to ship creative work often means living in a state of perpetual tension. You’re wrestling something from the unseen realm inside you into the world, in whatever cracks of time exist for your creative practice. While also trying to build something sustainable. While also maintaining the other work that pays the bills.
There’s no clean answer. Just the practice of showing up to the question.
The dual purpose tension
I think this discomfort I’m feeling is an expression of the dual purposes I hope ( ritual ) creative can serve:
As sketchbook: A messy place to try new formats, share ideas in process, experiment without needing everything to be polished.
As business: Something that could eventually grow to support me. Which requires some consistency, some rhythm, some trust that if you’re here, I’ll keep showing up.
These two purposes create friction with each other. The sketchbook wants freedom. The business wants structure.
I don’t think I need to choose one. I think I need to learn to dance between them. To know when to prioritize freedom and when to honor structure.
This week, freedom won. The audio wanted to be made. It took longer than planned. And I’m trusting that the rhythm is still intact, even if the timing shifted.
We’ll see how it lands.
An ask, and an invitation
I’m pouring countless hours into these posts—the writing, the audio production, the wrestling with what sustainable creative rhythm actually looks like. It’s work I love, and work I want to keep prioritizing.
The single biggest way you can support this work: share it.
If this resonates, forward it to a friend who’s navigating similar creative tensions. Post about it. Send it to someone who needs to hear they’re not alone in the gap between vision and capacity.
And subscribe if you haven’t yet. Growing this community is what makes the work sustainable.
I’m also genuinely curious: What would make ( ritual ) creative essential for you?
What topics should I explore deeper?
What conversations are you hungry for?
What tools or frameworks would actually help you move your own creative work forward?
How does the audio land for you compared to the written essays?
Drop me a line in the comments below.
And if you want to directly support the time I’m investing here, become a paid subscriber. Your support funds more time for this work instead of client projects—and you’ll get The Practice posts with the actual tools and frameworks I use.
Credits
Original written post:
Thank you to:
Kyle Gollob (Captures) for years of musical mentorship and for mixing this episode
Emily Basez for vocals on “Bailando”
Final track: “New Horizon”
Produced in collaboration with Alex Simon / Toneranger
Featuring vocals from Melas Leukos / Louise Lodigensky
If you’re building something and feeling the weight of the commitment, the gap between vision and capacity, the tension between freedom and structure—you’re not alone. This is what it looks like to tend the work while the work figures out what it wants to become.
Thanks for being here.
—Benjamin
