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Ars gratia artis
In the digital world, everyone strives for your attention. Advertisements, content creators, flashy websites, news outlets, other people on social media... and the list goes on.
Even you may have found yourself craving for those sweet precious likes, while posting cute kitty pics on the web (no hate, we have all been there one way or another).
And I must admit I’m not immune to this issue, either.
That said, I don’t want to talk about the already very much discussed “dopamine” hellholes of social media. Instead, I would like to focus more on how we perceive creativity and its value on the WWW.
We are so used to thinking that our creative work is only as good as the amount of approval it gets (in the form of likes, shares and comments), that every time I start writing, I can feel that subtle pressure: “Will anyone even care about what I want to say?”. As if the number of interactions was the only indicator of the value of my work. A constant chase for validation which in the end can only hurt, by making us second-guess our ideas, maybe even steering them towards what’s more popular, rather than staying true to ourselves.
I’ve been trying my best to silence that little voice in my head, though. Four years ago, I distanced myself from all forms of social media to escape the like/share/comment rat race. What I’ve found here is something much more fulfilling: a small corner of the net where success isn’t measured by how many people see your work, but by the act of creating itself.
Creation = Liberation
In this web without an audience, each piece of work becomes a personal statement, an expression of your own thoughts and interests, free from the pressure of performance.
The focus shifts from impressing others to enjoying the creative process, finding satisfaction in the craft itself, the same way one could do with — bear with me — pottery, or woodworking, or gardening.
Some might argue that creating without an audience is no different than shouting into the void. And maybe, sometimes, it is. But when interactions do happen, no matter how few, they are rich with meaning, because they aren’t lost in the deafening “big web” noise.
In the end, this is again just another way of reshaping our relationship with the digital world, a theme that matters deeply to me and that’s a key part of my ”manifesto”:
I love this idea of a “quiet revolution”, where each voice has the potential to matter, not because it’s amplified to millions, but because it’s real. This is a web that values quality over quantity, where creators own their space without having to compromise on anything.
I don’t want to disconnect from online engagement entirely, but I want to embrace a more intentional, meaningful form of creation, with the ultimate purpose of building real connections with people who truly resonate with what we do.
Now more than ever, it feels like the right time to embrace this quieter approach.
For a more Unplugged Web.