Emerging from the Lagoon
A trip to Venice and thoughts on performative authenticity.
This is my favorite time of year. When the chaos of autumn finally feels distant, and the quiet of winter is starting to settle in. As the darkness creeps into the daytime hours, it’s impossible not to become more reflective.
As I’ve been traveling around the Mediterranean, the last few weeks, haunted by the crystalline lagoons of Venice and the ancient ruins of Crete, I’ve been thinking a lot about…
The Internet.
Our digital lives. Algorithms. Living online (or not), the convergence of person and brand.
I’ve been reminiscing on all of my own personal phases of the Internet, from the wild wild west of Live Journal to Tumblr Girlie to new feeds to discovery algorithms. (Fun fact: I wrote one of my grad school admission essays on affinity algorithms back in *gasp* 2007 when algorithm was not a household term.)
In the last few years, I’ve largely moved away from being publicly online for the first time in my adult life, and I’ve been examining why. I’m still just as fascinated by the intersection of art x humanity x technology as I was back in the wild days of the early Internet. So what’s the problem?
First, I wondered if it was simply because I was getting older and cherished privacy more.
Second, I wondered if it was just too ingrained in my personality to abandon things as they crash into the mainstream. In other words, I’m bored of it.
Third, I wondered if it was because I have a zero patience for wading through the cesspool of AI slop.
While all of these points are undoubtedly true, the thing, is I somehow STILL LOVE THE INTERNET. Yes, I loveithateitloveithateit, having a thorough understanding of both its power to magnify and exponentiate the worst aspects of humanity, but also raise its best to the top.
I love the community.
I love the speed in which I can be entrenched in inspiration without ever leaving my house.
But something happened around 2021 when the TikTok discovery algorithm forced the other platforms to pivot. Social media was no longer about fostering community. It became about the FYP. For me, personally, making content for a black hole collided with the love I had for creating (or posting.)
Gen Z became the dominant cultural influencers as new platforms rapidly gained marketshare, and everything became about being raw, in real time, and live (as if this was new, hello, Josh Harris and We Live in Public, circa 2000,) but I digress. Of course this demand for the raw quickly (de)evolved into a form of performative authenticity… And looking back, this is where I mentally dropped off.
Yes, I want to be a part of things online, but I also want to live my life without breaking away from the magic of the moment to quickly edit a video and post it online.
So I’ve been doing that. Living life.
It’s been great. I’ve read an embarrassing number of books. Become a Peloton girlie. I’ve thrown decadent dinner parties. I’ve outlined six different books. I’ve eaten my way through Kyoto. Built a wardrobe. A library. Filled journals with essays on the New Orleans Gothic Condition. Thrown vampire balls, eaten street food in Vietnam, had my aura read in Salem. All the while making content and never posting it.
Why? I don’t know… I guess, I do love the act of creation, but I don’t want to be a slave to metrics, or algorithm updates, or cultural shifts that I have no interest in jamming my personality into.
As a millennial who’s been through all. the. shifts. of. the. Internet— academically, professionally, and now as an author, I realize that I do want to take up (cyber)space.
But I also want to be fully present (most of the time) IRL. I just don’t know if I’ll ever be one of those Internet girls who’s managed to seamlessly integrate things (has anyone really?) and that’s okay.
What does this all mean?
I once long ago had a blog called ForTheArtOfIt, and I’m bringing that philosophy with me in this next phase of my digital life. As person has become brand and brand has become lifestyle, and lifestyle has become (performance) art, I want to be part of the conversation online as much as I am offline.
But I also want to present things on my own timeline, regardless of current trends. So I’m going to start posting content again. Long form. Short form. I want to experiment. I want to play. I want to be a part of the discourse.
But it also will likely never be in real time. And I don’t care if it’s more polished when it’s cool to be raw. I want time to think and to reflect and to examine.
With all of that bullshit said, who’s ready for some Halloween content in December?
xo
Alys
P.S. Yes, I handwrote this on Friday, December 12th. Nearly real time (+ editing). Would love to know how you’re handling (or not) being online these days.
Living away from family and dear friends, social media is my community and way to stay connected to them and keep up with life, but it's getting really nasty in there. I miss friends who've dropped off because of the online environment. I have been on it less myself, and no longer feel free to speak my mind as a fed. I know better but tend to read at least some of the comments on public posts, and almost always regret it. It's nice to hear what you've been up to, and who wouldn't be up for Halloween at any time of year?!
This line is the BEST. "I guess, I do love the act of creation, but I don’t want to be a slave to metrics, or algorithm updates, or cultural shifts that I have no interest in jamming my personality into." BEST.