I was cleaning out the notepad app on my phone a few days ago, and I found this rambling from a few months ago. I think I was going to post it on Facebook or something, but I chickened out. I figured everyone would think I was whining. Strange, we find a grumbling quote from a classic author about bleeding on typewriters and it's inspired; if we have some sort of crisis of faith-in-ourselves, we are whining. Why is that? Why do we do that to ourselves.. To each other? In any case, I figured 'fuck it'. This was genuinely how I felt, and still feel on occasion.. Actually, let's be honest: Often. I think others might too. So, you're not alone my gorgeousnesses, not at all..
There are many reasons to dislike social media, but for me the most pertinent of them, is that it feeds directly into my 'Spiral of Creative Self Doubt'.. An affliction I believe many 'Creatives' suffer.. Our work's merit is bundled up with the judgement of others, and social media is basically a massive platform of users in constant judgement of everything you Do, Create, Say..
with the power of the like button, you are
Right, Wrong, Loved.
However, it's the unknown factor of Social Media that really gets to me. Squirrels itself into the Spiral. I post a flippant, grainy, 2 second click and crop photo of a book cover I'm reading - likety like like. I really don't care too much, it's just a way of keeping in the loop, but people 'like' it.
I post a section of an artwork I've been working on for weeks: hard time spent, neck muscles screaming, eye sight ruined -
If it was real life, and I had feedback to say, "yeah, not so good K, tsk." I could let it go.. Sigh heavily.. Work on it, leave it, whatever.
However, on social media, you can fuck yourself up thinking of that unknown factor. Maybe I posted it at the wrong time? Did I not hash tag it properly? Should I have done something different with the description? Were my followers just not online? Algorithms, algorithms?! Could it be Reasons that I hear *crickets*, and not my horrid artistry skills?
Self doubt spiral commence.. //Maybe, Could, Hopefully .. Please love it, me.. Everyone hates it, hates me.. Could, Hopefully, Algorithms.. Doubt, nope, hollowness. Fine, Fuck It. I'll just go hermit under the work table in the shed, and hope my dog remembers to feed me.. //
*sigh* *click* 'New File'
It's genuinely a shitty roller-coaster of bumps and bruises, a constant punch into that overly sensitive organ within you that arts. I crave certainty. Positive, Negative, Good, Bad. I get nothing but *crickets*, a Spiral, and a future passive-aggressive rendering, because Fuck You.
But, I'm not sure how you avoid it these days. You are nothing without an online presence. More often than not, you feel like Nothing because you have one. Strange thing is, we keep doing it. It's incredibly stupid if you look at it logically, psychologically- let's keep beating ourselves black and blue; self-masochisim is fun, yes? Still, we do it..
Without other people's eyes, our work means nothing.
Without others, our 'Creative' world is mute, or blind, or deaf... The Void.
And that Void for any type of art: visual, written, musical etc. - is worse than the *crickets*.