Back to the Blog
This probably won't surprise those of you who've followed me for a while, but I decided to step back from using social media. To be fair, I haven't used any of the platforms regularly for a while, but I feel like it's time to properly and publicly leave them behind. That includes Instagram, Twitter X, Threads and BlueSky.
I used to love social media. It felt like a real creative hub and I met so many artists on Twitter that I consider friends and colleagues now. Sharing art, conversing with others, trading ideas and jokes, reposting inspiration... it was a ton of fun. But that was 10 years ago. Over the last decade I've watched each platform descend into outrage cycles, algorithm bias, and constant debates about whatever hot topic was getting people mad. It rewards negativity because that's what gets the most attention. It's become a monster.
Artists make art because something inside compels us to. But social media doesn't see art... it sees content. When we don't post enough content, it punishes us by limiting the reach of what we do post, even to followers. The pressure to be seen ends up smothering the reason we make art in the first place. I’ve watched incredible artists disappear... not because they stopped making work, but because they stopped playing the game.
I miss making stuff without wondering how much attention it will get, or if it will be seen at all. I miss a time when social media didn't feel like the frontline of an online battle. So I'm going back to a platform that feels right... my blog.
From 2007 to 2015, the blog format was Signalnoise’s home. It’s where I shared everything... art, ideas, behind-the-scenes process, successes and failures. It truly felt like my own corner of the internet and man, I can't tell you how much I miss that. I have to leave behind these phantom pressures and get back to a time when creating art was fun.
I don't have a solid plan yet, but I might start up a Signalnoise newsletter at some point. I like that idea, and people seem to enjoy those. More on that later, one step at a time.
This isn’t nostalgia... it’s a reset. If you’re reading this, maybe we're looking for the same thing. Thanks for being here.