I was convinced to join Twitter several years ago when away on a press trip in Beverton, Oregon. It was begrudgingly that I succumbed to these media savvy moguls, when insisted it was necessary to have a social media presence to be a professional force. I had quit Facebook voluntarily and cold turkey many years before, immediately following a break up - a choice that was absolutely right for me and one I would recommend for anyone who finds themselves in those unfortunate circumstances. When branding myself @beheardphoto and creating my Twitter handle I declared that I refused to ever tweet out what I was having for lunch or a selfie of my makeup for the day, as I found the 15 minutes everyone so desperately needed to be rather nauseating. That being said, I saw the benefit when traffic to my website would increase with a simple handful of characters thrown out into cyberspace.
Then came
Instagram with it's simple symmetry and even simpler concept I felt, as a photographer, it seemed like an obvious marriage or marketing and visuals. I would document shoots in which I was partaking, or international travel. It was all part of the 'brand.'
The #100daysofartchallenge I chose to take on 67 days ago was a journey I embarked upon because I am in a place in my life where I will do anything to be happier, more centered, and healthier. I saw this as workout regime for my creative muscles. And that it has been.
The task of creating something everyday has been a welcome challenge and I am actually pleased with a number of the results, glad that I am determined to create, whether or not the final product comes out the way I had envisioned before putting pen to paper. What I did not bargain for was the visual vulnerability I would be putting out there in a way I have tried to avoid by and large.
For a girl who refuses to put her likeness on the internet, I will write, in my travel logs, with true honesty. There is a nakedness in my words. For some reason, when looking at my oeuvre of work in this Instagram challenge, at least to this point, the literal illustration of the emotional journey over the past 20 days makes me feel more naked than any words I have ever written. Without those chosen words revealing my inner most thoughts, fears and turmoil and rather, a visual representation, almost by accident, it is, for lack of a better word - scary. These things I am making, often with no conscious motive in my head, makes me feel very exposed, like that nightmare where you show up at high school naked. Uncomfortable to say the least.
Now, I cannot complain about something I am willingly partaking in, but I can say this public therapy may very well be my last foray into social media. I am well aware that it is a useful tool for work, but for me I am not so sure it is a useful tool for life. That being said, I appreciate those who look, like and discuss my work and am glad to have embarked upon this journey. And I will most certainly enjoy ending it - at least publicly.
Only 33 to go. My exact age - coincidence?
Day 48
Day 49
Day 50
Day 51
Day 52
Day 53
Day 54
Day 55
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Day 67
