Behind the Build: How a Hidden Page Helped Me Stop Hiding
Share
What started as a simple idea—to quietly share the art courses that changed my life—turned into a twelve-hour marathon of troubleshooting, second-guessing, learning, and more than a little frustration.
At the time, all I thought I was building was a hidden page on my website.
I had no idea this little project would stay with me.
This is the story of one unexpectedly difficult day...
The Hidden Page
The idea seemed simple enough.
I wanted to create a hidden page on my website where I could share the art courses that had genuinely changed my life.
These weren't courses I wanted to recommend because I earned a commission. They were courses I truly believed in because they had helped shape me as an artist and encouraged me to keep creating.
Since the page wasn't linked from my main navigation, it felt like a little corner of my website.
I figured it would take an afternoon.
I made my coffee, sat down, and thought I'd be moving on to my next project after lunch.
I couldn't have been more wrong.
When Everything Started Going Wrong
Let's just say Shopify tested me that day.
What I thought would be a simple afternoon project quickly turned into one technical problem after another. Every time I fixed one issue, another seemed to appear.
The button that was supposed to scroll visitors down the page refused to work. Different CSS tricks didn't solve it. Rich Text wouldn't accept the HTML I needed. Even after trying different approaches, the page still wasn't behaving the way I had imagined.
Eventually, after more trial and error than I'd like to admit, I finally got the scrolling button working.
I wish I could say that was the end of it.
It wasn't.
The affiliate course cards I'd spent time designing weren't clickable. Shopify's Multicolumn section simply wasn't built to do what I wanted. I tried different settings, considered rebuilding the entire section with custom code, and eventually realized I was chasing perfection late into the evening.
By then, I wasn't frustrated because I couldn't solve the problems.
I was frustrated because every solution uncovered another problem waiting underneath it.
The Phone Call
Around hour six of this twelve-hour marathon, right as I was wrestling with Shopify and trying to figure out why nothing seemed to work...
My mom called.
She was excited—and I love her for that—but the first thing she said was:
"Hurry up and add more products! People need stuff to buy!"
🥴
I'm trying to stay calm. I'm trying to breathe. I'm doing everything I can. And that moment just cracked me a little.
Not because she was wrong.
But because I already felt stretched thin and still wanted to do it all perfectly.
At that point, I wasn't thinking about adding another product.
I was thinking about the next painting I wanted to create.
The artwork waiting to be photographed.
The editing that still had to be done before I could offer prints.
The blog posts I wanted to write.
After spending hours behind a computer, the last place I wanted to be was at my desk.
I wanted to be in my studio.
I wanted paint on my hands instead of another browser tab open on my screen.
Conclusion
When I think back on that day now, I don't remember every Shopify problem I solved.
I don't remember which piece of code finally worked or how many times I refreshed the page, hoping something would magically fix itself.
What I remember is the frustration.
But I also remember that I didn't quit.
That hidden page eventually became just one small part of my website. Most visitors will never know how many hours went into building it, and honestly, they don't need to.
There will always be another project waiting for me tomorrow.
Another painting to finish.
Another page to build.
Another idea waiting to come to life.
If I keep waiting until everything feels finished, I'll spend my whole life waiting.
So I'm choosing something different.
I'm choosing to let people see the messy middle.
Because maybe that's what being an artist really is.
Not creating flawless work...
But having the courage to keep creating anyway.
Looking back now, I don't think the hidden page was the real project.
I was.
Keep Creating With Me
If this story resonated with you, I'd love to invite you to follow along as I continue building this creative life—one painting, one lesson, and one imperfect step at a time.
When you subscribe, you'll receive:
- New blog posts and personal reflections
- Behind-the-scenes studio updates
- First access to new originals and art prints
- Announcements about upcoming vendor markets and local events
- A front-row seat to my journey as an artist.
Thank you for stepping into my Beautiful Chaos