I have a tense relationship with posting. Untangling my own desires from the expectations of others is my life’s work, and social media is inherently hostile to that project. It’s a constant battle to protect my creative process from the relentless pressure to appeal to as many people as possible.
And so, the scope of my audience has fluctuated. Everyone likes a zoetrope animation of a baby raccoon. Not everyone likes propaganda celebrating politically-motivated arson. One direct reference to “Palestinian resistance solidarity” and I watched the reach I built on Instagram get throttled into nonexistence. A common story, likely to become more common as Meta continues to codify the abusive and genocidal policies it has held for years.
I’ve become increasingly angry at the prospect of compromising in any way to maintain the privilege of having my work exploited for the ad machine. And very importantly, I’ve become angry at how my own attention is exploited. I hate the way Instagram turns my ambition as an artist into a slot machine game, erupting with ringing bells and flashing lights every time I win the algorithm jackpot, and immediately inviting me to play again. I hate the way it draws me into an endless stream of content consumption as an inevitable detour on my way to upload any new piece. It is directly at odds with my intrinsic motivation and it hurts my ability to create and be well.
I’ve also experienced an absurd amount of stalking and doxxing over the years. Throughout my online existence, there has always been at least one person from my past asserting their unwanted presence in my life, popping up in ominous and threatening ways in any inbox, comment section or reply thread I might be paying attention to. Most recently, an abusive ex carried out an intricate years-long smear campaign against me, directing a wave of public vitriol toward me that forced me to lock down my accounts and retreat temporarily. Every time I post, I’m overcoming trauma. Luckily, I’m excellent at that.
If there’s one thing that surviving that experience has taught me, it’s that I don’t actually have any control over how I’m perceived. If it’s taught me a second thing, it’s that staying small doesn’t keep me safe. So here I am, trying to find peace and freedom in that. I hope this will be a place where I can share my art without as much concern over censorship and public reception– but I also hope to grow into my voice here, about more than just art and design.
I may never have the reach I had again, and that’s okay. I was never meant to be in relationship with tens of thousands of people. I’d much prefer to connect with a few, with whom I share actual affinity, from a space that is truly my own.
Are you also divesting from evil social media platforms in favor of your own website? Email me! We can visit each others’ blogs and build curated online community like the old times, back when we all liked the internet.
New art to come very soon. You can still follow me on RSS, Mastodon, or Bluesky.
