Is our art losing its soul to the siren call of viral fame? That's the burning question sparked by Struthless, an Aussie artist stirring the pot with a candid YouTube tell-all.

Think about it. An artist sketches their heart out, posts it online, and boom—it's everywhere. That's the dream, right? But is it the same dream as hanging your masterpiece in a gallery, or is it a different beast altogether?

Art used to be about taking risks, about baring your soul. Now, does the fear of losing 'likes' clip the wings of creativity? When every stroke of the brush is played safe, are we trading the thrill of innovation for the comfort of the known?

Viral success can feel like winning the lottery for creatives. Once upon a time, the approval of a select few gatekeepers—publishers, record labels, gallery owners—could make or break dreams. Now, the internet can crown anyone a king or queen, if only for a moment.

But what's the cost of wearing that crown?

With every repeat performance demanded by the algorithm's insatiable appetite, does the art lose a piece of its spirit? When you're riding the wave of viral fame, is it even your wave anymore, or are you just another surfer on the algorithm's ocean?

What about the artists who dare to leap into the unknown, to experiment and evolve? Can they survive the ruthless court of public opinion online, or will they be left yearning for a bygone era when art was judged in quiet halls and not noisy social media feeds?

We praise the chameleons like Bowie and Prince, who reinvented themselves time and again. Yet, do we allow the same freedom to today's artists, bound as they are by the golden handcuffs of their online personas?

Artists, then, stand at a crossroads: Do they forge ahead on the uncertain path of authenticity, or do they tread the well-worn track of the tried and true? Is it possible to do both, to balance on the tightrope of genuine creativity and the demand for content that 'performs'?

This isn't just about making art. It's about the essence of being an artist in the digital age. Can you hold on to your unique voice when the echo of the crowd is deafening?

Art is not just content; it's a conversation that's been going on since the first stories were told around ancient fires. Will we let that conversation be dictated by algorithms that don't listen, or will we demand something more, something deeper?

That's the puzzle we're piecing together. And maybe, just maybe, there's beauty in the search for an answer.