Why am I leaving social media for a while?

When I wrote my second article for this Substack in September of last year, I announced that I would use this platform to work with the garage door open. Very little of that has materialized since then. I've published one more article, and it wasn't directly about my art and creative projects. That doesn't mean I've not been making new work since then; on the contrary, I've been busy. Last week, my exhibition "Oefenstof" opened at Galerie Met in Berlin. It is my first solo show, and the artworks on display are the result of my research into traditional embroidery patterns and the search for algorithms that can recreate them.

I've simply not held myself accountable for sharing the process here. I told myself almost every week, "When I finish this, I will have time to write another Substack article." And I didn't only tell myself this about writing Substack articles, I've been postponing many creative projects for a long time. There was always other work that had to be finished first.

Since the NFT boom started in 2021, I've been running from one project to the next, while simultaneously incessantly checking Twitter. There was always a new shiny thing to chase, always a new opportunity dangled in front of me that I would gladly take on, without much pause or hesitation. This endless stream of shiny new things and opportunities has been slowly drying up at about the same pace that you've stopped hearing about NFTs in mainstream media. But it was always still just enough to keep me busy. However, I've finally put a dam in place. I'll finish a big commission next week that I hope to tell you more about soon, and my solo show will come to an end. Following this big milestone, I have no plans, no jobs, no projects, no deadlines, and I'm incredibly excited.

It feels strange to celebrate having no work lined up, and I know being able to step away from work is a privilege not everyone has. I don't take it for granted. At the same time, I know it's time to stop chasing.

Four years ago, I suddenly became an artist. I've learned a lot since then, by educating myself and through experience, and I've grown more confident. I've learned that I admire artists who have rules, who know what they want, and what they stand for. As an artist, it is important to know what you stand for. But this isn't something you can decide on out of the blue, it grows with experience. Slowly, through trial and error, I've started to understand what works for me, and I've recently started a note called "Rules For Making Art". It's still a living document.

One important thing that I've learned and I'm trying to develop rules around is that the projects that have given me sustained satisfaction throughout the whole process are the ones that grew organically. Work that grew from my own curiosity and wasn't pitched to me. Work that didn't involve gated platforms or organizations in its distribution. Work that I never had the feeling I had to sell. The generative tattoo project that I collaborate on with my friend Kyra is a good example of a project that ticks all the boxes.

My excitement for being completely out of work comes from the hope that it will open up space to do more work that has had time and space to grow organically. To create more potential for this to happen, I'll have to tune out the noise of social media. I'm leaving Twitter for the remainder of 2025 and logging myself off Instagram for at least the coming month. These strategies align with my resolution not to buy any clothing this year. Which is surprisingly easy so far, and I plan to give a bigger update on that soon. A theme of letting go and creating space has started to emerge.

I'm looking forward to seeing what might grow from this pause and space I'm creating. If you are curious to follow along, feel free to subscribe, or consider sharing this with someone who might get value from it. You can expect that I'll continue to write about my experiments in living a creative life and balancing the distractions and desires of our world.