We had so much fun, exploring creativity and going on adventures to far away places. Meeting amazing people and seeing beautiful things.
All the wonderful people
Without you,
and I wouldn’t be friends. We wouldn’t have created our illustrated poems or worked on exciting projects to bring words and ideas to life. We wouldn’t be publishing children’s picture books together, or creating a magical world full of mystery and mayhem, joy and fun.I wouldn’t know beautiful and kind
who lives on the other side of the world. Our paths would never have crossed and I would have missed out on the most wonderful friendship. I would not have learned to believe that there was value in my words. I would not have found my voice or written so freely and so openly without her.I would no be friends with best selling author and internet legend
, without whom I’d still be trying to following the ‘internet’ rules, thinking there was a formula that I was missing. I wouldn’t have been inspired to just have fun and experiment, to believe that was enough.All the beautiful things
I found tiny knitted frogs that go on picnics and little people made of acorns and twigs that feed the birds and animals and play among the flowers.
Fascinating photographs of toadstools and watercolour paintings of monsters, clouds with funny faces, octopuses in china cups and pictures on pavement cracks delighted me as I drank my morning cuppa.
When I look around me, I am surrounded by beautiful things that you shared with me, things I fell in love with and have joined me here at home.
My Monster Mug of Motivation for my tea. Samantha, purple and pink and blue with curly horns decorates my coffee cup. My obsidian cat and amethyst snail sit on my desk. Books on my bookshelf that aren’t available on Amazon and the most awesome dungarees that were ever designed, all discovered and adored through that colourful eye-catching grid.
And I’m grateful. I learned so much. I gained so much. I had so much fun.
But you changed
I didn’t want to believe it. When everyone else said you’d changed, that you weren’t like you used to be, I persevered. I tried not to complain. I stayed faithful and kept going, even as you choked the things I loved and hid them behind the raucous noise of what you decided I should see.
You made us all believe that we needed you, that we can’t be ‘successful’ without you. We’ll never publish our books or sell our art, or find our perfect people unless we sell our souls to the endless scroll. You diminished our work to fodder for the ever ravenous content beast. You made us think that more and more and faster and faster were the only way. That we should do this silly dance or follow that trend or shoehorn our passion into your interpretation of ‘popular’.
Well enough.
I know there is still humanity within, created by the people who persevere, who still share beauty and creativity and wonder despite how hard it is for us to find each other. Maybe I’ll pop by every now and then to say hi to them and let them know where I’m hanging out these days.
I really have tried. But I just can’t summon the energy to wade through the irrelevant adverts and the repetition and the unsolicited advances by the bots.
I found another place
Maybe it started off as a place of words, for journalism and independent publishing, but it’s grown into so much more. It’s home for all kinds of creativity and it feels like home for me.
I can get lost reading, writing, creating, sharing, unassailable by adverts and unfettered by algorithms and character counts.
I have found exploration and adventure, new friends, connection and conversation in a glorious kaleidoscope of ever changing and endless ideas, reflecting creativity in so many different forms.
come with me and you’ll be in a world of pure imagination - Willy Wonka
I miss the magic that you used to be
I miss being delighted and inspired by beautiful imagery, stunning photography, showstopping artwork.
So I’ve been rekindling it here, among the stories and the words, filling my own Substack with creativity and delighting in the creativity of others’ Substacks, continuously adding illustrations to my Ever Growing Gallery of beautiful imagery.
I am going to spend as much time as I can creating delightful things out of my existence, because that's what brings me awake, and that's what brings me alive - Elizabeth Gilbert
So this is goodbye, Instagram, no hard feelings. You were great. Maybe you will be again someday.
If you’ve enjoyed reading my goodbye letter to Instagram and would like to join me in helping fill Substack to the brim with beauty and creativity of all kinds, join me for Substagram Sundays, on Notes.
An absolutely charming farewell to the place that used to be fab, a creative inspiration.
I'm still hanging in there by the skin of my teeth - but I'm not sure why?
Maybe, it is time to make Substack into our own IG, as you suggest.
I'm in! Let's do it!
Hi Emily. For me this post is a timely read. I have never ‘done’ Instagram - in fact I have always resisted social media, believing that it would suck me in and be too much of a distraction. What niggled at me though was the growing urge to share my other ‘hidden’ side - the one that writes rhymes and sketches illustrations in support of them. Then - by pure chance (or was it fate?) I happened upon a radio interview that championed a thing called Substack. And something chimed with me - maybe Substack was the home I had been looking for. Two months later and here I am, talking my first tentative steps, battling Imposter Syndrome and now four posts in and the fifth scheduled to drop tomorrow (Monday) lunchtime. I hope with all my being that - in time - I connect with like, creative minds in the way that you have. My finger and toes (and hell, everything else for that matter) are crossed. Your post has helped me to believe it might just be.