I love the communal aspect of Instagram, but I hate the algorithm.
I love Twitter's witty humor and clever threads but hate the curtained politics.
I love the inspiration I find on Pinterest, but a quick judgment creeps in —the fear that what I love may fall short.
Whether you identify as an artist, writer, journalist, filmmaker, or creator, navigating the world of social media is an unavoidable part of the journey today. Gone are the days when art galleries, book deals, and personal website domains held the pinnacle of influence for establishing a name.
These days, whether you're a struggling artist or an independent business, you're forced to engage with the algorithmic forces. The benchmark for viral success now hinges on amassing 3 million likes on TikTok or seeing your name trend in a hashtag thread on Twitter; the bar has never been more challenging to reach. It's a matter of mastering your craft and the complexities of driving the capitalist machine. All the while, you have to keep a "unique" identity — because God forbid if you're not deemed "authentic" enough.
The Catch-22
Being talented isn't enough anymore. And that's a fact, whether we like to hear it or not.
It's no longer a contest of who can capture the most profound image; it's about mastering the art of cropping for Instagram's 4x5 portrait ratio and strategically timing your TikTok posts for maximum engagement. To truly grasp what resonates and what falls flat, you must remain chronically online.
Screen time up, baby!
I recently listened to Dua Lipa's interview with Tim Cook (fabulous, I love them both). Yet, it only reaffirmed what I already knew: even the CEO of Apple acknowledges the toxicity of increased cellphone usage, particularly among those under 35. Cook consequently created screen time limits to preserve our eyesight and family time. Yet, the third-party iOS application lures our attention by dangling the algorithmic carrot just far enough in front of our faces that we need the 15 extra minutes to satisfy our attention.
We built a robot that was too strong and too smart.
So, do we fight it or lean into it?
The answer is entirely up to you. Like most things, we can fight the machine… or learn to play the game and manipulate the system. Or, just post the damn pictures you love because it's a computer, and it's not that damn serious.
Or is it?
I'm a Photographer… So, Do I Give In to Short Form?!
During the golden years of 2016 and earlier, Instagram was the hot spot for photographers to share everything from adorable coffee cups perched on mountain peaks to creative personal photoshoots. It fostered a community of artists who networked for fun. It was a joy to be a part of, and is where I crossed paths with some of my closest friends today.
The photo below captures a moment from my wedding in 2021, featuring these amazing girls who have remained dear to my heart. All are traced back to the connections made on a seemingly insignificant app.
At my core, I'm a photographer — captivated by the art of still moments, a passion that has seamlessly woven itself into my love for writing and storytelling. Although I've always been a film enthusiast, keeping tabs on movies, TV shows, and a handful of popular YouTubers, the title "filmmaker" or "video creator" never quite fit me. Venturing beyond my initial photography fascination into the realm of trendy TikTok dances or snappy 15-second reels feels like a stretch, given our generation's short attention spans.
In my community, I've watched photographers who embraced Reels to keep their work visible atop feeds while others totally rejected the idea, vowing never to surrender. Both stances are valid; there's no right or wrong regarding artistic genuineness. However, opting for the former, aligning with the algorithmic checkboxes undeniably works in your favor (*sigh*).
It's a question you have to ask yourself: do you want your work to be seen? Then, post what might be re-shared. Or would you like to share your work knowing you're staying true to your art? Then do that, and the organic followers will eventually come.
Post what you love and share in a way that hardens the kind of artist you want to be.
Over the last 5 and 1/2 years as the Head of Content and Lead Editor at Moment, I've experienced a remarkable journey observing the shifting trends in social media and navigating the constant changes in what resonates and what doesn't on each platform.
With this to say, I've recetnyl decided to dive into video-making after all. No need to adhere to specific rules for short-form content; I can embrace my own style and have fun while learning a new skill. Armed with my reliable Sony ZV-1, I've spent the past week experimenting with shooting in S-LOG color profiles. I'm delving into color grading using a fantastic new LUT from a creator I've recently become a fan of, SERR. Even if I don't end up sharing any of these videos, I'll treasure the memories that’ll stack sotrage on teh hard-draives to look back on.
Despite how late I am to the game – I've never felt more inspired to get started than today. Here's a list of some incredible video creators who are storytelling-focused that helped fuel this fire:
Art has become a business.
Sometimes, I feel forced to play as a businesswoman the second I share my work online.
There's an internal push to conform and stand out simultaneously. You find yourself juggling the need to appear authentic while subtly weaving in elements like the #ad hashtag or casually discussing a product in your latest TikTok. It's a delicate dance, faking a commercial voice to keep viewers engaged without violating legal guidelines.
The process is downright exhausting, a constant balancing act that seems inescapable. It's a dichotomy we may never fully break free from.
Despite my frustration with Instagram prioritizing influential ads over the cherished chronological feed, my passion for my work overrides my desire to constantly conform to an robot.
I share what I create because it makes me happy. It's as simple as that.
Interestingly, some projects I share gain exceptional engagement, while some of my favorite shoots go relatively unnoticed. Embracing the uncertainty of how my work will be received keeps me motivated and always eager to strive for more.
Platforms like Substack, with its commitment to consistency, provide me with accountability to stay dedicated to my wirting, ensuring I post every week regardless of my schedule. Establishing this routine is crucial for building creative muscles.
And alas — no matter how many intriguing photos, books, or art galleries I discover spontaneously in the streets, I’ll always reach to follow the artist online. It's a great way to keep track of their creative journey throughout my already busy lifestyle. It's easy, fun, and a fantastic reference point for a midday pick-me-up.
There's beauty in the beast, no?
Create boundaries for yourself, of course.
Know when to log off if the brain needs a break.
But, please, don't be afraid to share what you love just because a team of 100 nobodies in some corporate HQ created a robotic system that will seemingly change the following week.