I was discussing, with my photographer friend, Andy, the endless and inevitably futile task of chasing likes and shares for one’s creative output online. He’s a relative newbie to social media and this quest for some kind of validation having only taken up photography and joined social media several years ago.
Me? I’ve probably wasted decades chasing something that doesn’t exist, posting endless photos to some, but ultimately insufficient acclaim, sharing songs and instrumentals on all kinds of platforms and reaping scant reward in terms of listens and that zero-probability chance of being discovered.
I suppose I am reasonably Zen about it all, especially after so long. There was a time, at least, when my science writing had some traction. This website was getting 20000 unique viewers every day at one point. I had 54000+ Twitter followers back in the day, and it helped my book Deceived Wisdom reach the giddy heights of an Amazon bestseller for a couple of weeks, ranking higher than contemporaneous publications from Prof Brian Cox and Sir David Attenborough, which was certainly gratifying. You will notice, it’s something I am still talking about more than a decade later.
I’ve ranked fairly well for some of my photos, songs, websites, and writing, have even won a few awards for all of those things, with the exception of the music, admittedly. I’ve had reach and traction, and I’ve had those much-vaunted likes and shares. If this were a working-life sentence, you could say I’ve done my time. Well, not quite, I’m still working and still hankering for more of that elusive acclaim, hankering to somehow be discovered. But, by whom and to what end?
My photographer friend had something quite profound to say, it was rather philosophical, although in his response during our discussion, he shrugged it off with a flippant lol. But, it wasn’t a thought to be shrugged, hence this blog post. His comment in the context of this vain hope of being discovered got me thinking…this is what he said:
I think over time we discover ourselves
After I’d drafted this post, Andy and I talked a little more. “We all like validation,” he said. “Social media exists because of it. But is it a hunger that can ever be satisfied? The question I ask myself is what’s the real joy in photography?”
For me, the joy is in being there, trying to get the shot. The selection and editing is a secondary thing. The sharing a nice shot and getting a few likes is tertiary. While we were chatting, Andy chipped in with an update on his garden birds. “Just saw a Goldcrest in the magnolia tree,” he told me. “I resisted the urge to grab the camera and rush outside in the vain hope of a picture, but instead enjoyed a few moments watching it through the binoculars.”
Andy added that a moment like that in photography helps bring some Zen into one’s life. “When you look through the viewfinder and all that exists in the world is what you can see. That’s totally in the moment,” he told me. He added that then there are all the awful failed photos and missed opportunities with Goldcrests, for instance. “That helps you deal with disappointment and also helps instil a sense of patience.”
Speaking of patience, patience is an inbuilt app that can help with your photography, as I wrote here some time ago.
I must claw back some of my integrity here. I have not spent the last twenty years solely craving likes and shares for my creative output on social media. I have been enjoying the creativity, the learning, and, of course, the earning a living through some of it. And, more to the point, regarding the more arty stuff, the photography and the music have been unpaid hobbies, as opposed to the writing being a paid one. And, in addition to that there has always been the fun of chatting with so many different people online over the years, when you’re a freelance working from a home office, that feels kind of important when there’s not so many opportunities to chat offline during the working day.
They’re hobbies with an output, you might say, an image, a tune, but critically they are hobbies that have led to great friendships. Friendships with fellow photographers, such as Andy, with my singing mates in choir, with the people in my band, and with several others that I’ve shared a stage with over the years or performed alongside from the theatrical pit. It’s still all happening, it’s always a blast. People sometimes even tell me they like it, amazingly…in the offline world. The fun and friendships are far more important than the ephemeral accolades of online.
Is it time? Have I discovered myself, Andy?