Navigating the Chaos
A Reflection on Artistic Identity, Information Overload, and Social Media
My monkey brain continues to play games with me, both in my waking hours and when unconscious (my dreams have been just plain bizarre).
I am a news and information junky. Does that mean I am in a constant state of FOMO, a glutton for punishment, or feel as if I have to know everything? Doubt it. But my appetite has grown, especially in the past five years when things have spiraled out of control all at once. Much of which has to do with social media and the American mass media machine spewing the worst sides of it all.
I admit to craving the details about the latest debacle or political fight or what is being done about immigration or houselessness or racist acts of violence, and on and on and on. Within my entire being, I want desperately to turn it all off. Alas, I fear it’s an addiction and just too damn hard to quit.
I’ve always wanted to know what’s happening in the world, which does not necessarily translate to wanting to be involved in the chaos. But I, at the least, want to have a basic knowledge so I sound somewhat informed when in a discussion. Ego-based, I know.
Observing the situation from different angles is my hope.
I played the observer role for much of my life because of my innate restraint and inability to express myself publicly. Even as I desperately (in some instances) wanted to let people know what was really on my mind, fear of backlash superseded my need to use my voice. Sadly, part of being shy is the sensitivity factor. Handling criticism well was not my forte.
I found that standing on the sidelines enabled me to hone my observation skills when I felt ready to reveal myself. Which did not often happen in the public arena.
So, I created art and kept a journal (not consistently and only when there was drama). Eventually, I got into teaching because, with enough education, acquired skills, and confidence, facing students in a college art studio seemed plausible.
I was not a natural orator or too full of myself, and I did not blather on about all my accomplishments or what I thought students “should” learn. My classroom was hands-on, learning by doing, trial and error. I met students where they were and did not promote unrealistic expectations. I was the kind of teacher I would have wanted but rarely encountered in my younger years.
Then, in 2015, I exited higher education because I needed to pursue my work full-time without distractions. What a fantasy, and what was I thinking? But it was calling me from deep within my soul.
As an artist, I struggle with marketing and promoting my work. Many artists suffer from this affliction and would rather just create art. After my life as an art professor and when I began working in the studio full-time, social media appeared as the perfect vehicle to expand beyond my bubble. I had not participated much during my teaching years, so I was a relative virgin to the concept of personal art promotion via social media.
What I began realizing the past couple of years is the actual creation of marketing materials for social media is not what strains my brain, it is the feeling that I am a servant to social media and all its weird quirks and rules. The current environment is inundated with amazing artists and creators. Regrettably, along with that, there was a lot of other utter silliness. How the hell does anyone get noticed? Writers deal with the same problem. So it comes down to what we have to do to get noticed. And that, my friends, is where I struggle philosophically.
For a while, I created short videos of myself working in the studio, especially during the pandemic when isolation made us all want any kind of connection. I stopped making videos because focusing on the art took precedence. I became unconcerned with showing others the process, not because I’m coveting some super special secret process worth keeping to myself.
In addition, the videos seemed arrogant. Who was I to think anyone would care what I did in the studio? It reminds me of reality television, which I despise. There is too much information, and what about the concept of mystery? We need more mystery to exercise our imaginations.
I don’t know; my personality does not fit many marketing models. Now, if someone signs up to see me do a performance painting, which I do occasionally, that is a different story. They’re interested, and there is face-to-face interaction. Otherwise, videos just seem invasive, like random phone calls.
I am being a bit extreme here, and maybe I’m making up excuses for not wanting to do what social media experts suggest. I do not like to follow rules unless they make sense and serve a purpose. Following the speed limit and wearing a seatbelt are rules that make sense to me.
According to the social media gurus, people love videos, but it doesn’t seem as though I get much engagement. The same goes for posting other things about my work. So why am I wasting my time? I think my work is evocative and worthy of a look, so I’m at a loss. I do get discouraged, but I recenter and get back to why I do what I do.
I know engaging with others is how you receive feedback. But I’m unwilling to spend time on platforms that give little because of ever-changing, screwed-up algorithms. I simply cannot keep up anymore and don’t want to care.
Of course, I say this, and then I feel as if I’m missing the boat. What the hell is that all about?
Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy following others and seeing what they do occasionally. However, I do not consider scrolling endlessly on social media quality time spent.
Like writers, visual artists are unique. We are called to do what we do with reasons that vary across the spectrum. We create because it’s what makes us human. In my case, creating art and writing is what saves me from going down the black hole of discord in the world. I can respond to the pandemonium in my own way and at my own pace or ignore it altogether. I do not have to be at the mercy of some frickin algorithm. But I also want to connect my work to an audience beyond my section of the world.
First and foremost, I do the work for myself, but I also do the work to release it into the universe for others to absorb. So, I am left at a crossroads regarding social media and my addiction to news and information.
I'm not sure where the path will lead me.
How do you treat social media when it comes to promoting your work?
Can you find a middle ground or a compromise without falling victim to the system?
Have you cut out social media completely without regrets?
Feedback would be greatly appreciated. Thank you for reading.
Very much on point. No answers come to mind from here at the bottom of the ever growing heap. ❤️
It may be an oversimplification, but these days, I create with a basic summation - there is no audience. And never will be.
I understand desire, cravings, and addiction (being a former junkie, now 20 years clean and sober), and I understand the human need for social inclusion (despite being an introverted anti-social Luddite), and I also realised that, whenever I'm writing or painting or buried in music, that the outside world ceases to exist. Yes, it would be nice to share my efforts and thusly gain some sort of approval, but I stripped that premise back to discover what actually motivates my love of the arts.
And it wasn't the dopamine hits afforded by social media. It wasn't getting approval from strangers - the unqualified critics of cyberspace - whom I would never meet. It wasn't to stroke the ego, or gain self-approval, or satisfy an ambition that would elevate my social standing. I simply like the mindset that artistry creates, the beautiful silence of isolation and solitude, and the introspective process that manifests my imagination into something physical: I look at what's inside my mind, my hands and fingers then construct it outside, thereby reproducing my mental visions as something solid, creating today what didn't exist yesterday.
That may make me sound like a bit of a wanker, and I probably am, but it works for me - If nobody will ever read my stories, or see my paintings, would I still bother to do them? The answer is yes.
And that's probably completely unhelpful, but I like your observations and perspective, and even if I announce myself to be anti-social, it's still nice to meet a kindred spirit here in cyberspace, and thank you for sharing your thoughts.
Cheers from my little corner of Australia.