Doing the “Social” Part of Social Media and Why We Need To Stop Being Wusses About Our Art

Social media means nothing to me if I’m not actually meeting a real person. While at a freelancers meet-up tonight, I thought of the vast media presence, but I continually wonder about the social part. The internet facilitates the connection with others, but if it stopped there, at the Twitter follow or Facebook request, then nothing is really accomplished, the potential for a movement goes no further than the screen in front of me. Sure, it’s a way to keep in touch and blah blah blah, but my goals for “Social Media” extend much further than building a network of do-nothings or supplying followers with needless minute-by-minute information in attempts to either (1) increase the opportunities to share my cynical (and witty!) outlook on life and/or (2) Tell you how busy I am with really busy, really important work because, listen buddy, I’m a big deal now, regardless of your uninformed thoughts of me five years ago.

Sharing art, like social media, requires a real, tangible connection. I can create all the art I want in my private “studio”, alone, rummaging through my mind and extracting a feeling or story that resonates. I can put in the hours writing a song, recording and mixing. But when it stops there, then what’s the point? It needs to be heard, read and experienced, right? The “emotional labor” I’ve been reading so much about lately is fruitless, and frankly it’s a waste of time when I’m unwilling to present the end product. If the worst thing in life is wasted talent, then the worst kind of art sits unseen in closets or hard drives. That’s not being artistic. That’s just a creative way of killing time.

Fuck that. Life’s too short.


  1. You do seem busy, really important. Your blog will smash injustice with its honesty and smashingness and some sort of ‘music/justice’ hybrid.


  2. Lou….I am SOOOO proud to call you ‘Cousin!’ You rock…and AMEN. Living in a world where a ‘real tangible connection’ to some IS FB, Tweeting, Myspacing… an injustice in its own right. RIP uncle Gene. His soul lives in you….I can see it. Peace.

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