He Who Tells the Best Story, Wins.

The artists whose names survive the erosion of time were never alone. They all began with something undeniably their own. A mind wired differently. An unmistakable artistic voice. The kind of mastery that bends attention toward itself. But singular talent alone was never enough. The work was also carried into the future by others. It was protected, narrated, and embedded into something larger than the artist.

What binds these immortal names is not the art alone, but the gravitational pull of a mythos. A myth constructed not only by the artist, but by a strange constellation of others, patrons and chroniclers. Those who wrapped it in story, circulated it, argued for it, and threaded it into the wider culture.

A painting does not become legendary in the moment it is created, but in the moments after, when others gather around it to spread the holy word, like pilgrims at a relic. These people are not neutral. They participate in the creation of legend. They do not merely preserve. They direct the director. They mythologize. They are the good side of the definition of “propagandists.”

In the English language, the word propaganda is often received with a warning label. It conjures images of deception, control, and manipulation. But that is not its only meaning. In other languages, its Latin root simply means “to propagate,” “to spread forth.” A tool, not a judgment. A means of ensuring an idea survives long enough to be etched into history itself.

And in this context, the propaganda surrounding an artist becomes necessary. Without some form of narrative architecture, without a container, a ritual, a rhythm, no idea, no truth, and certainly no artwork will make it across the wasteland of time. I choose the word propaganda deliberately because it acknowledges both the power and responsibility that come with shaping meaning. Power, in that it can influence legacy and even manipulate memory. Responsibility, because the moment you begin shaping the story, you are no longer a bystander. You are accountable for how that story will be remembered or mythologized. This style of propaganda is not a lie; it is the protective wrapping around a truth, shaped by those who live closest to it.

In our crypto space, when we say “this is how we build,” we are not speaking into a vacuum. We are screaming to ourselves. Those of us still here, still stubborn enough to care. Because without us, there is no one else. The future will forget. And I do believe the forgetting will be total.

I’ve begun to understand my place in all of this. As a documentary artist participating in this great decentralized experiment, I am not outside looking in. I am part of the community I’m documenting. To be “one of them” simply means I care about the outcome. I’m not neutral, and I don’t pretend to be. Sometimes it feels like being a militia member with a camera in one hand and a rifle in the other—documenting a revolution while also taking part in it. I accepted the role because I already believe. To deny this would be dishonest. And honesty, even uncomfortable honesty, is a form of faith.

Even on the worst days, when I fantasize about deleting my wallets, selling off every token, and walking away from this swamp of promises and failures, I know, deep inside, that I am living through a great art renaissance. And I do always drift back. I come back because Sam Spratt has shown us that this can be real. He is both a true lifelong friend to me and, more importantly, a true artist for all of us to rally behind. Disciplined and deliberate, he has infused this space with vision, energy, and great restraint. He has navigated this minefield with uncommon clarity.

Now, we find ourselves on the edges of Sam’s Masquerade. Those of us reading this are tasked with carrying this great talent into the future. This is a proposal for creating the propaganda and therefore, building the mythos of Sam Spratt.

Joey Lawrence
Director