escaping the algorithm

on new starts, escaping the algorithm and staying authentic

I was looking for a wire in our box-of-wires yesterday and came across a bunch of old iPhones, most of them cracked, naturally. Out of interest and nostalgia, I plugged in one of the older-looking ones. There was something so comforting about how difficult it was to use - remember when phones were so clunky and awkward, so you didn’t feel the need for that ahhhh-dopamine hit all the goddam time! And while I was scrolling through some of the pics on there, I found some that must have been for Instagram or maybe Hipstamatic¹. They were all arty - beams of light streaming into the picture; rain on a window pane with reflections and traffic lights. Nothing groundbreaking, but they felt significant. I had this sense that I was seeing a brief glimpse of myself before the algorithm.

When I took those photos, way back when, I was trying to capture a glimpse of my life and elevate it, showing the world through the eyes of an artist. Taking it out of the ordinary and making it a tiny bit extra-ordinary.

I started using Instagram to post photos of my work when I first began drawing again as a grown-up. After I left art school in 1999, I took an accidental break from my intended artistic life. First of all, I took a temporary job in publishing to pay the bills, back then it seemed like I had all the time in the world to just do that job for a bit. Then I got pregnant and had a baby (who is now a 16 year old at sixth form college - what?!) and so I just stopped drawing. I don’t think it was conscious, I still considered myself first and foremost an artist, but I just got caught up in life. Trying to make a living, trying to grow-up. I think there was also the fact that my job was so creative - not only did I design books and commission illustrators, but I also designed the actual physical books, (doing paper engineering, designing pop-ups, sliders, touch and feel etc). So all my creative energies had an outlet. But as our son got older, and maybe, as I did too, I started to feel a tug. Firstly there was a curiosity: can I still draw? And secondly: a hint of ambition, perhaps…maybe…I could do the stuff I am commissioning…? And also there was the feeling I had that I was inherently an artist, and yet, there I was in my mid-thirties, and definitely not an artist.

Then something started to shift. There were a bunch of people in the design department I worked in, and somehow around the same time we began talking more and more about our own practice, getting the urge to draw and create for ourselves. We were egging each other on, inspiring each other. We used to go for lunch and draw together and chat about drawing, and what materials we were using. Shout out to Emma Farrarons, Jo Spooner, Sharon King Chai. Thinking about it, I owe a great deal to them. At the same time, Helen Stephens created the #walktosee hashtag, which has gone on to have over 98,000 tags! People were using Instagram to post their work, cheer each other on like we were in the office, but this time it was online. Helen would repost a selection of people’s drawings every weekend, and sometimes she picked me - always very exciting! Thinking back to those days, Instagram felt like such a lovely, warm, inspiring place.

That feeling, which began as a gentle tug of creativity, became an obsession - I was utterly consumed by it. I drew every chance I could, on the way to work, at lunch, on the weekend. All. The. Time. And I posted it all on Instagram. I made connections with people that became friends in real life.

Side note - this is not a post about my journey of leaving work - although it is such a significant part of my recent life and it is never far away - but for those of you who don’t know, I went on to leave my job in 2019 to do an MA in Children’s Book Illustration. I wonder… would that leap of faith have happened without Instagram?

some of the drawings made on lunchbreaks, on the train, sitting on the platform waiting for the train, sitting in cafes...

Then, sometime in 2016 they changed the feed so that instead of being chronological, it was based on an algorithm, swiftly followed by Stories. Suddenly it began to be about reward - how many likes and follows. 

I decided early on that I would post work whether I was happy or unhappy with it. I’m so glad I made that decision, as I think it helped me live in that algorithmic world with some sense of myself preserved. I’m not saying I was pristine and perfect and immune to excitement when my posts got lots of likes, but it meant that I didn’t agonise about what to post. I would post nearly everything, sometimes - often - with a huge amount of cringe. I remember clearly a few posts that I felt especially awkward about, and they actually got some of my most likes. I never quite knew what to make of that, other than to remember that what I feel about my work isn’t always how other people will see it (I’m still working that one out).

this is one of the posts that I really cringed when I posted, and then everyone gave it a lot of likes and nice comments.

The next significant thing that stands out, is doing a #50dayproject in 2022. I had done a #100dayproject the year before, and it had meant a huge leap in my practice, in fact, it had been a big part of finding my creative voice². It was a largely positive experience. My memory was that it felt supportive, positive, and like there were a bunch of people cheering me on.

a snippet of the original #100dayproject

So after I graduated from the MA, when I was all sorts of confused and felt very much free floating, I decided I would do another #100dayproject, but this time I decided it would be a #50dayproject, as I remember feeling like I had no idea how the next few months would play out.

This time, after the usual slow start, struggling to find a rhythm, self-doubting, and feeling very rusty, I slowly got into it. About halfway through I did a post that got way more likes than I usually did. I think my average likes for a post around that time was somewhere between 300-700 likes-ish? That felt pretty good to me, I was happy enough. Suddenly I had a post that got over 1000 likes, and as the days carried on, that grew, 1100…1200…1300, it currently has 2831 likes. And then, each day as I posted, they all started getting above 1000 likes, there’s one a few days later that has 4029 likes. That is a crazy amount! And at the same time, every time I looked at my feed, notifications would pop up, with new follows. Again, I went from having a handful new followers each week, to 100 plus every day. Instagram won’t let me look back at any data from longer than 90 days back, but my memory is that I went from about 8-9K followers to 12-13K in that 50 day period! I may have exaggerated that slightly, but it was a pretty big leap! 

a snippet of the #50dayproject

Most of the posts that were getting a lot of likes were of drawings made on location and as the end of the 50 days approached, I began to feel that drawing on location was not feeding me anymore. In fact, I very much felt I wanted to get into the studio, to try and be an illustrator. I remember having this really strong feeling that Instagram was like a naughty friend, the ones you play knock-down-ginger with, steal crisps from the corner shop with (or is that just me 😜) Or the friend that tempts you to stay for one more drink and then you’re out til three in the morning. What I’m saying is, it is exciting and thrilling, but you pay a price, the hangover the next day if you will. It’s like a smokescreen, a mirage, the poisoned apple that Snow White can’t resist.

So I decided that when I stopped at 50 days I wanted to switch things up. I knew it was probably a silly thing to do - I was mid-flow on this river of Instagram success. More likes meant more followers, meant eyes on my work, meant possible commissions, and support for my burgeoning and tentative career as an artist, that I had left my job for Goddamit! But at the same time, I felt really strongly that I wanted to focus on my development as an illustrator. I felt that I had done enough drawing on location. Don’t get me wrong, I love it. I am always in my happy place when I am outside drawing. But I wanted to keep pushing myself out of my comfort zone, as I had been doing since I had left work.

So when it finished, I started a new project that I called #meanderingmay³. It was a prompt project, but I decided it would be completely improvised and I would make all the prompts about what I felt like doing next. It was all about leaning into what I wanted to do, and not doing what I felt I should do. An anti hashtag project in a way. Although I am a people-pleasing obliger in my daily life, I have long suspected I am a rebel when it comes to my art. For better or worse, I find it hard to engage with making art if it doesn’t feel new or challenging in some way. Maybe that is why I like working by instinct, I’m surprising myself with what I create! As expected, my likes and follows slowed pretty quickly during #meanderingmay, it didn’t give me success, but what it did was give me a sense of control over my own practice. During that time I reset my relationship with the algorithm and my sense of ownership over my art practice.  Looking back at my feed at that time, it is a bit all over the place - but that was the point, I wanted to meander, explore, get lost. I did stuff that I felt pretty uncomfortable with, but I firmly believe that pushing yourself out of your comfort zone and trying things that ultimately make you cringe or you “hate” is actually what leads to growth.

a snapshot of #meanderingmay

Of course, there is so much more nuance to it, and so many things I haven’t said. For example, I have participated in Instagram hashtag prompt projects like #folktaleweek and #inktober and yes, the #100dayproject, and participating in them was a big part of my growth as an artist and illustrator. It’s not all been a bad experience, by any stretch of the imagination.

But as my relationship with social media has continued, and my art practice has developed, one thing that feels important is that I want my social media, whatever it is, to work for me. I don’t want it to be a beast I feel I have to feed. I have posted really sporadically recently, and sometimes I find myself feeling guilty. The people I no longer interact with, the feeling that I should be posting - how else will people find me?

Now I feel a bit like it has become a vicious circle. Posting there helped me not only develop my practice but got eyes on my work. I don’t know whether the publishers who have commissioned me were watching my Instagram or not, but they might have. And now I have commissions, which was the actual goal, but do I need to keep posting on instagram as regularly as I was? Is that how people discover and commission me? Do I, after spending all day painting on a book commision, need to summon the energy to paint something else, so I can put it on my grid?

While I ponder all of that, I have hopped over here to Substack. I commented on a recent post Helen Stevens made about working on her Substack logo that it feels like unchartered land over here. Like we are creating crisp new footprints. There’s something exciting about how new it is, and how much

Hamish McKenzie

and the team are asking us, the creators, to help shape its form.

Recently I was chatting with a friend about my Substack and worrying about all the things I thought I should be doing on here. I had found myself worrying that if I didn’t do all the things I was somehow doing it wrong. And she asked me what I would want it to be if I forgot about it being a paid subscripton. And I remembered everything I had been through with Instagram. I also remembered that one thing I know about me is that whenever I try to be something I’m not, I get in a right old muddle. I am authentic to a fault. My best friend has always said that I don’t know how to assimilate. This is something I come up against again and again in my life, especially my creative life. So, whether I am a creative rebel, or I can’t assimilate, for better or worse, I am going to struggle to do what I feel I should be doing.

And so, here I am in this unchartered land, this meandering, authentic-to-a-fault, chaotic, messy Substack that I have called Gather • Filter • Make and I am using it as my fresh start. Every time I find myself doing something I feel I should be doing, I am going to check myself and try and come back to a place that feels authentic and true to me.

I would love to know how you are feeling about social media, the algorithm, and how you balance your creative development with getting likes. Am I overthinking this all? If any publishers are reading this, how do you look for and discover new illustrators?

Until next time… I am wondering about doing a prompt project during October! But it might be a meandering, wobbly chaotic one! Are you up for joining me!?

Ella xx

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1. the app that nearly became Instagram, remember?!

2. a.k.a - style

3. I used the hashtag #ellamayrella to tag my own posts