It’s been a long time coming. Instagram has been a major source of my success as a fine artist, but also a huge contributor to my growing stress levels.
2016 is the year I started my instagram account to share my “lunch sketches”, small gouache studies. A group of likeminded coworkers in the gaming industry and I would pack up our bags every day and weave through the pungent SF alleyways to our destination — usually Yerba Buena Gardens in San Francisco.
The row of art ducklings was often led by my coworker and friend Chris Greco, an industry veteran that has an impressive resume consisting of background art for Disney classics, baseball cards, American Greetings, and more. He’s important to mention since he remains to be a fountain of inspiration and art knowledge, and is one of the reasons I became so obsessed with painting from life.
The first post that went viral is fresh in my mind, and believe the success was attributed not to my art, but the hashtag #newshoes. A coworker had bought herself some shiny new shoes and she was the subject of my painting that day.
I came to this conclusion after the 2nd time I used this hashtag (a different coworker had new shoes) and had similar results. We laughed about it, but I simultaneously shed a tear at how depressingly stupid it all is. So there you go, my secret to success. Just a simple hashtag and a few fashionable friends.
Success snowballed, and followers grew exponentially. At my peak I had 109k followers and each post would garner between 4,000-12,000 of those addictive little hearts within half a day.
The relatively huge number of followers was great for my budding fine art business. It impressed strangers, got me deals with many big brands such as Jerry’s Artarama, Daniel Smith Watercolors, gave me credibility for major art competitions, etc. However, the lesser talked about side effects were: stress from deals that went sour, harsh criticism, and a brutal algorithm that was constantly trying to squeeze you to pay for ads and/or dance like a monkey for likes.
It was frustrating to try to appease the ever-changing algorithm gods. I witnessed this once inspiring place become a cesspool of advertisements, and desperate artists stepping on each other just to pump out content and be relevant. The heart and curiosity was gone. Every day I debated on leaving (Read my blogpost about it), but the golden handcuffs were tight and that pretty follower count was not easy to say goodbye to.
Fast forward to late 2024 when Frump was announced the winner of the election, and the same day our beloved cat diagnosed with late-stage renal failure with a few months to live. I was crushed, finding it hard to come up for air. The final straw was to see the oligarchy form in real time, and watch all the big tech leaders bow down and kiss the ring the day of inauguration. Meta quickly spiraled into a place festering with misinformation, more advertisements and AI. Tiktok was stripped away, only to come back changed with new and unsettling inner workings.
The first to go was Facebook. This place had been toxic for years, constantly promoting things that stirred up arguments and controversy between heavy doses of ads and sponsored posts by strangers. I had no problem saying goodbye, but still grieve FB Groups and Marketplace, which was also on a quick downward spiral.
Now Instagram is another story. I decided to leave it up, but log out permanently, and just point people to my new Bluesky and Substack accounts. Putting my energy into places where I believe there’s a future seemed like the way to go, but there was and still is a problem.
It doesn’t work if only a handful of us take a stand and leave. I feel like I’ve voluntarily drifted off into the sea in a lonely raft while everyone else is still sipping mai tai’s on the beach laughing obnoxiously loud.
So time to switch my focus to other things. Since leaving, I found new hobbies, reconnected with old friends in person, slowed down, found the joy of reading and had time to really reflect on where I want my time and energy to go toward. People ask if I miss FB and IG and the honest truth is, no! Yes, I miss certain people that I had connected with on those apps, but mostly just feel FREED. Who knew that all I needed to leave was *motions wildly with arms* all of THIS.
A new hobby: Collecting CD’s, vintage music players, and owning our music again.
To be transparent, my instagram account still exists after a serious amount of hemming and hawing. My last post states that I will be deleting the account all together, but after careful consideration, I decided it will stay up for now but I’ll be logged out for the time being.
While visiting Maui we stumbled upon an artist that was completely oblivious to everything going on. When I said I wasn’t active on Meta she cluelessly asked if something happened. It took everything in my power to not slap her in the face be upset. I realized that this is just reality, and most people are still using IG as their primary connection to other artists, and their businesses. Completely deleting it might do me more harm than good, but the jury is still out on that one.
What I really want is for people to go to the open and decentralized Bluesky. Yes it has it’s problems, and no it’s not very fun, but in order to have quality, lasting things we need to put in the work. We’ve just been spoon-fed for so long that any resistance is exhausting.
I don’t know where I’m going with this all, but just want to say:
Please have faith in your work and yourself. You do not NEED these apps to be a good artist or have success. Explore your options, try different things like Substack, Bluesky, Reddit or even Nextdoor. Reach out locally! There’s a million opportunities out there, you just need to get creative and have that spark. Put your eggs in the baskets you think have potential for a better future.
Most importantly, we need to be in this together. Share each other’s work, comment, find new inspiration. Let us all bring our lonely little rafts together and make our own island.
Will my business be able to survive this shit show? Only time will tell. But at least my backbone is still in tact and my heart is in the right place.