Throughout the years I've found that Instagram and social media/internet in general has burst with an ocean of never ending creativity. It wasn't that long ago that the internet was a lot quieter and you had to really dig to find art and creativity that you enjoyed. But now, with outlets like Instagram, it's like a flood of artistic beauty, creativity and anything you could imagine.
There is so MUCH that you can't just STOP... and look at one image for just a while... sink into its foggy trees, its decaying walls, its sunlit stairs or fantastic mountains and landscape...because there isn't just one gorgeous photo of those things...there are millions...most likely billions.
Scroll, scroll, tap, tap, scroll, tap, scroll, tap. Beauty, more beauty, creativity, insane creativity, copy, save, copycats, reposts, and accounts dedicated to just reposting. It's almost too much to bare...I almost want to stop using it completely.
I will find something I love, or something I wish I had done myself. And then I find a million more, and another million more and I get jealous...and I get sad...and I fall in love with the images,but there are so many that I can't fall in love...and it makes me disenchanted...disillusioned.
Back in college (as a photographer in training) I connected deeply with one artist I had found and researched. Francesca Woodman.
I attempted to emulate her with my own work, I loved her photography. I wanted to create art and be known for it. I had this idea that her style, that type of style, would be something I could tap into and create anew for myself. But once college ended, the lack of push without teachers and classes, photography took a side seat...and eventually my photography slowed down like molasses. And now that I am trying to bring myself back, now in this world of social media and technology bursting with creatives...I am overwhelmed and insanely jealous of all the people who create images and art that surpass mine. I think to myself, would Francesca Woodman even be considered a fine artist if she lived today? Or would her work be invisible on Instagram, drowned among the other million photos that are just like hers?
Her photos would probably never have existed, and truthfully, all the photographs that emulates her art would probably not exist. Or would it have been done by another? If she hadn't, would someone else have? Too many mind ripping questions burden me and at the end it, everything feels futile. But I am easily dissuaded, (it is my nature) but the way things are today, creating art almost feels pointless, for me anyway. There is just so much, and it is so less likely to get noticed these days. And the audience to feel noticed, has exploded from: friends and city to the entire world on the web.
It is something that has barely registered with me. I wonder how many others might feel as I do? What would my teachers say about it? I guess I could contact them. Just Ask. Funny how I always need someone else to help me. It's something I haven't shaken...needing that student/teacher mentality. Maybe that's why I've never grown past my own constraints.
I need to create. I feel that when I don't, I suffocate on nothingness. And I am suffocating. I have been for a while and didn't realize it. It shouldn't matter, I shouldn't let this ocean of never ending Instagram art drown me. It's just an app, on my phone, it's just a device, that we all stare into and think that it means something.
The truth is what is Real. I'm alone on my bed, typing into my Macbook Pro, I can hear the heater humming, warming the room. I can hear an airplane glide by. I've been sitting here staring into a screen for hours. There is life outside of this screen, and I barely live it.
Technology is intimidating and ensnaring. Photography has always held me, but I've never held photography...if that makes any sense? I want to produce, but that's all I do... I want, want, want, but I do not create.
Epiphany after epiphany. I hope I can make it matter. "Does it matter or is it saliva splatter?" - Joseph Arieta I hope this isn't another long rant in a stream of yearly rants to improve myself...and live my life well.
Time Will Tell.