not one more pixel

I don't want to be a leader.
I don't want to be a coach.
I don't want to be an influencer.
I just want to design.

It's not enough to post my pictures on social media with searchable captions. It's not enough to blog. It's not enough to have a website. Now I need to put out a monthly newsletter AND make videos?!?!

The social media hive mind requests that you share your traumas, triggers, phobias, privileges,  favorite sexual positions, most unpopular opinions, medical history, date of your last menstrual period, allergies, bank statements, mother's maiden name, street you grew up on, odometer readings, first concert, sixth photo from your device's camera roll, the predictive text your phone generates after typing a particular phrase, most embarrassing teenage memories... all in the name of "authenticity" and "vulnerability." What ever happened to privacy? Are people still allowed to have secrets? How much of ourselves must we expose to be deemed sufficiently relatable and therefore worthy of customers? How much more of myself must I give to this infernal entity we call the internet?

Bare your soul and no one cares. When my words go unnoticed online, I wonder if it would have been better if they had also gone unwritten. You can post your life's work online and people will just scroll right by it. Or maybe your oversharing will be noticed by anonymous trolls who will proceed to mock you mercilessly on internet gossip sites. My inner publicist is concerned about how I present myself and my brand. I try to be strategic. Sometimes I walk on eggshells. But does it matter? I have been careful not to tweet myself out of a job, but I've never tweeted myself into one, either.

Was it foolish of me to believe that the internet would give me the career that I had been unable to launch through the traditional methods? Was it foolish of me to think that I could bypass the processes of getting a literary agent, or getting a big-name gallery to represent my art, or working my way up in an interior design firm if I just put enough effort into having a social media presence and a website? Was it foolish to believe in the possibility of my social media posts being relayed in a chain reaction that would lead to exposure to a huge audience? It certainly feels like a fool's errand these days.

After nearly 10 years on Etsy, and 7 on Society6 and 5 on Zazzle, I've never had my work featured on any of their front pages. Nothing I have posted about my art, design, or books has ever gone viral. They say "We Need Diverse Books," but there's a hidden disclaimer: indie authors need not apply, or use their hashtag. And I am beginning to wonder if hashtags are even useful at all, as adding them to tweets only seems to lead to them being shared by accounts with spammy, bot-like tactics but never the art accounts I respect.

I am under a lot of pressure to succeed right now. Life is short, and everything is taking way too long. I don't want to be one of those artists whose work is only noticed and appreciated by other artists. What good is that? I have seen so many things work out for other artists because of their online presence. I refuse to believe the defeatist lie that creative people can't make any money because I've seen so many other artists, designers, and writers get the recognition they deserve. But I still don't have 1000 true fans.

For me, posting on social media and making art have always gone hand in hand.  I started taking pictures of work in progress while I was in grad school so that I could blog about my process and then share the finished products on my various accounts. And while doing that has been useful to help me remember what I made when, financially it seems to benefit me less and less. They say it's all about storytelling now, but haven't I already done that? I've told my story many times, but who even bothers to read it?

They also say not to talk about yourself too much on social media. So I try to share other people's work, doing what I wish more people would do for me. I share things I like because I think they're beautiful and want my blog and Twitter account to be filled with beautiful things. But not only have I rarely gotten that in return, but also there are days when it seems like the few comments I do get on the art and design projects I've posted are critical ones. It never seems worth it to respond and I usually don't. If you're not my client, why should I care if you don't like the furniture I like or don't think it's practical? But the god of the Internet (remember when it was proper to spell it with a capital "I"?) demands a sacrifice of content. How should I engage with this necessary evil?

I keep feeling more and more cynical about internet marketing. I feel like everything is a scam. When I feel financially pressured, I'm more likely to tune into webinars about how to make more money as a designer/artist/writer. More and more, they are infomercials. The email for the webinar will say, "Learn how to sell more books!" or "Learn how to get high-end interior design clients" or "Learn how to be a successful artist without galleries."  The actual webinar is more like this: "I'm telling you all the ways your book/design practice/art career will fail unless you buy my overpriced online course/coaching services/software/ebook series. Now I will fill the remaining time with testimonials from people who pretend to be famous on the internet." I resent being sucked into someone's sales funnel. Is that all the internet even is at this point?

I suppose you could argue that my main objective for having a web presence at all is sales, so I shouldn't complain about other people's sales tactics. But the difference between me and the webinar hucksters is that at least I'm honest about the fact that I'm just here to sell my products and services. I don't try to trick people by using internet doublespeak, like eBay does when they say you've "won" something when it really means you bought something and now you need to pay for it. Or Twitter, Instagram, Blogger, and Pinterest calling the people who want to keep up with your posts "followers." Or Facebook calling them your "friends." There's a lot of manipulation involved in those companies taking concepts we have positive associations with—winning, having a following, friendship—and using them to keep their users coming back again and again. Maybe that's why being online can be addictive.

Only narcissists can succeed at social media, it seems. Even their "authenticity" is fake. They bloviate all day about being an international something or other, but aren't we all international at this point thanks to the world wide web? Does that word even mean anything anymore online?

An author I follow on Twitter had a book signing in Chicago recently. Despite her 100,000+ followers, only about 10 people showed up. At least I know it's not just me. The internet isn't working as a means for me to earn passive income or get "discovered." The only way participating in social media is useful for my career is when I've come across calls for artists or grants or new bookstores that have popped up on my feeds. But I'm not buying these strategies that the "experts" keep trying to sell me anymore.

Without acquiring many new fans or customers, I end up feeling alone in a crowd. I often feel like I've posted my pictures in a void, in vain. I have made enough things for the internet. Accounts, websites, blogs, avatars, profile pictures, usernames, passwords, favicons, HTML, QR codes, quote images, memes, digital images optimized for the web...

To be clear, I'm not saying that I will stop having a web presence. I want to continue blogging and posting to the social media accounts I already have. I am already as involved in sharing my work on the internet as I can stand to be. I don't want to make another thing for the internet. I don't want to give any more than I have already given. Not one more pixel. Not one more byte of data. I'm tired.