Art and Social Media
There seems to be a trend blooming, an uprising against the very thing that has become both our lifeline and our burden: social media. I understand the weight of it, the incessant obligation to share, to promote, to present ourselves as polished and ready for consumption. As artists, the struggle is real, and social media often feels like another headache, another layer of expectation piled onto our already demanding lives. But I can’t help but think there’s a way to navigate these constraints, a way to embrace social media not as a foe, but as a necessary tool for communication and connection in our art careers.
I have danced on the edge of this antisocial media movement myself, caught in the throes of frustration because my attempts at the bare minimum yielded little success. I would post daily, share reels sporadically, and yet it felt like an endless cycle of futility. Why does it feel so hard? I realize now that part of my struggle stemmed from not fully incorporating social media into my art practice. I resisted using it to document my creative process, to express the honest feelings that bubble up amid the chaos of creation—what is going well, what is going awry, what parts of my practice feel like they’re working. I was caught in a trap, the same one many artists seem to stumble into, where gatekeeping knowledge about process and technique creates a toxic hierarchy that stifles our community.
Why, I wonder, must we place ourselves on pedestals, hoarding information that could uplift those who are emerging or learning? It’s gross, it’s negative, and it’s detrimental to everyone involved. This gatekeeping feeds the very headache that social media has become for so many, making artists feel as though they can’t measure up, as if there are secret codes to success known only to a select few. Do not be fooled by numbers; a large following does not equate to genuine talent or success. I’ve seen it too often: the facade of accomplishment that crumbles upon closer inspection.
What it truly takes is vulnerability, openness, and consistency. That’s it. But how many of us are truly willing to commit to all three for longer than five posts? We engage in challenges, posting daily in the hopes of boosting our followers or garnering views, but in doing so, we often neglect the heart of it all—authenticity. If we are only sharing for the likes, it becomes transparent, and that’s not what people crave in an art account. They want honesty, they want connection. Artists who draw followers are those who reveal their truths, who share the messy parts of their journey, who invite others into their world with an openness that fosters trust.
Social media can be a point of connection, a virtual handshake that introduces our art to the world. It’s not just about the final pieces, the polished presentations, the humble brags about exhibitions. It’s about sharing everything—the bad sketches, the color disasters, the moments of uncertainty. Those are the threads of the artist’s journey that deserve to be seen. I’ve embraced this in my own practice, posting frequently, almost obsessively, because it excites me to share—not just the successes, but the struggles, the experiments, the failures. This is what makes social media feel less like a chore and more like an extension of my art.
In this age of algorithms and curated personas, we want to feel connected to real people, to know the stories behind the art. We’re nosy, yes, but that’s part of being human. We want to feel like we’re not alone in our creative struggles. Authenticity can be shown without the need to elevate oneself above others; it’s about being relatable, being real. I’ve seen too many artists parade around with an air of superiority, as if they hold the keys to some secret realm of artistry. But we all know that artistry is messy, that masterpieces don’t emerge from every stroke.
The frustration artists face on social media often stems from the pressure to create an online persona that feels inauthentic, a performance that doesn’t reflect who they truly are. But it doesn’t have to be that way; social media can be genuine, it can be awkward, it can be a space that encompasses not just the polished but the imperfect. We don’t have to hide our struggles behind a veneer of perfection. Instead, let’s allow our platforms to be a true reflection of our journeys, embracing the full spectrum of our artistry, and in doing so, we can redefine what it means to connect in this digital landscape.
