![]() It may be obvious to someone else, because they have a different perspective. “When will it be enough?” The thing about awareness is… until one is aware of something, they are unaware. ![]() I have actually been told it quite a few times throughout my life, by quite a few people that it is never enough for me. I actually had a couple friends try to point it out to me early on in my life, also early on in my tattooing. It’s not something I was ever cognitively aware of. I’m a true-born, insecurity steeped, attention seeker, with a humble facade. For my personality type, that was just not something I could accept. That negative comment, or puking emoji, would prove that I indeed wasn’t yet “liked” by everyone. I heard about some secret ratio where if you found a page with twice as many followers as you, and you commented on their post within the first day or whatever, your comment would be at the top of their feed, which would make people with fewer followers than you, check out your page, and follow you, to be associated with a larger followed page, to get more followers… (Jeez, that sentence was exhausting)… Then the not so common “dig” on something I had posted would reel in my head all day while the compliments and encouragements would stack up, and fall away, but not really leave an effect. It’s voice whispers, “Who the f%#! cares what’s in your smoothie?” and, “You know, the only reason they’re saying that, is to get likes.” I found out there were people that “liked” things and “commented” so they would be seen on pages with larger followings. That cynical shadow that points out the flaws and cracks in the veneer, showing there’s little more than sawdust and glue holding it all together underneath. Sharing my trips, my work, and my personal life with distant friends and meeting new ones along the way. The world was one place, and we were all just people living this life…To feel inspired by other people’s tattoos, or how they were eating, where they were traveling to, or their work out styles. I was in tomorrow, and yesterday all at once. I was operating in every time zone, watching my friends in Japan, Australia, and Europe, all in real time. I could also share it with my other friends. It was what social media was meant to be, to me. I could know exactly what was in their smoothie. ![]() Where they were on vacation, their dogs and cats, and pigs, and flying squirrels. I could be me, and simultaneously, I could see everyone I knew, being themselves… What they were creating, working on, or eating. I could be moody and melancholy, funny and sarcastic, cryptic, or transparent. Instagram comes along and it was perfect… A social media app that was just pictures of life… My life and your life… What visual artist could dream up an app more pure and authentic? I thanked the seven for this gift that was hand tailored to my personality type. I was trying to use Tumblr, and missing Myspace, which sounds pretty funny at this point. I was over Facebook, but it was super useful for letting people know what was going on with my tattooing, my travel, shows, paintings that were available, and such. Surprising to me, since I hadn’t posted a single pic yet. I had signed up about three months earlier and hadn’t used the app, but surprisingly I already had 350 followers. I was getting my head tattooed and took a selfie during the session. ![]() I still remember my first post ten years ago. To be honest, I haven’t enjoyed it for a few years now. I haven’t posted on Instagram in a few months. ![]()
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