Errrr....is Instagram my boyfriend?

My thoughts after a month offline

A whole month away from Instagram. I imagined myself dressed in linen in a golden field, marvelling out loud at the way the evening light danced upon the swaying wheat. I thought I’d pick up a curious book from a flea market, dust it down and lose myself, my freckles the only sign that days had passed. I’d hear the laughter of children on the breeze, notice ants working together for the greater good of the world and my creativity would consume me. Sketchbooks full of colour, pressed flowers, lines of prose about the little things.

Instead, I’ve marvelled out loud (to no one) about how peonies smell like old drains, constantly stopped my cat from getting beaten up, sold most of my clothes so I can afford to go to the dentist, and watched in horror as a peregrine falcon did something unforgivable on Springwatch. Oh and I turned 48 & went on HRT after nearly throwing my easel out of the window at a pigeon. I’ve hardly painted at all.

And so time away hasn’t given me mental clarity or a detox from something dark and hollow, instead it’s just made me realise that I still love Instagram and online connection - in fact I’ve really missed it. I mostly follow fellow creatives and I’m looking forward to catching up on how exhibitions have gone, what adventures people have had and what new projects have launched. I want to see sketches and colour palettes and new outfits and photos of the sky.

I said to someone that I was missing feeling connected, and they suggested that I join a club in order to make ‘real' connections. However, for me Instagram is the real world, I’ve been using it since 2011 and it’s part of my life now. This past month when I’ve wanted to mention a TV show I’ve enjoyed, get recommendations on some new paints or simply be shown something beautiful, it just hasn’t been so easy. I live alone and don’t have kids - I’m pretty content, but it’s a quiet life. There aren’t any chats about the news when unpacking the dishwasher, or someone to ask about my day whilst we’re waiting for the film to start. And so the people I chat with on Instagram are, I guess, a stand in for that. I enjoy the rhythm of the days of others and the break to their routine as they take me to places I’d never visit otherwise. People get understandably grumpy about the algorithm and the lack of growth, but I no longer care.

All that said, the break away from posting to Insta stories has meant my brain has started to behave differently. Instead of seeing something, sharing a photo and it be 'gone', I’ve instead developed a non-stop Carrie Bradshaw style internal monologue that ponders on things and plots them as pieces of writing for Substack. I’m also reading more because of Substack, occasionally it’s obviously useful stuff (like this post from Raj Kaur about where she looks for illustrators) but more often it’s a deep dive in to something I didn’t even know I wanted to learn about, like this post about John Webber’s watercolour paintings of Captain Cooks voyage to the Pacific region in the late 1700s. However my first paid subscription to someone else’s Substack has been to another artist, Marloes De Vries, and doing so has really helped me to understand why people have signed up to follow my posts too. Marloes is honest and open about her life as a creative, and her posts make me feel better about living a life that’s slightly off the beaten track. I so appreciate her sharing her thought process and so, whilst I can, I’m paying a monthly fee to her to support her work.

I’ll return to Instagram tomorrow and do what I’ve always enjoyed, posting new projects on my grid in the jigsaw puzzle style that Instagram doesn’t reward but I like the look of. In stories I’ll share behind the scenes snippets, cat war updates (Yoda versus Fat Gordon), colourful outfits, and have all of the chats that I love. And here on Substack, well let’s see. I’m working on a piece about spinster role models, I’m going to share my plans to develop my reportage & community art work, I want to talk about how I can’t visualise and investigate how that impacts my process. I’ve got so caught up in not being thought of as a gatekeeper for the illustration industry that I’ve been in ‘helpful overdrive’ for years, so I’m going to unpick that a bit and start having some fun.

Instagram is like a reliable boyfriend who I will love forever, we have history and we’ve sure seen some things. But Substack has caught my eye, pushing me to take risks and think differently. I hope I’m allowed to love them both.