The Evolution of Instagram
Tales from a working photographer - Part #1
“Instagram, as a way of “phone-only” picture sharing, meeting others, fell over the cliff and entered a million packed stadiums, all screaming something. I can’t hear. I can’t find my friends anymore. Do you know where so and so went? I didn’t post a black square, I said something wrong. I didn’t like destruction. Wait! I took a cool picture, wanna see? INSTAGRAM “SELF” IMPLODED.” - From Keep Driving, The baggage of apps and community
This piece has been slightly edited since emailing it to subscribers —> so please go to the website at: www.deborahthewitt.substack.com
Something I never thought I’d be in my lifetime and something I did my best to move through with grace — was unexpectedly becoming a professional photographer at the age of 40. A second or third to my main priorities. Life moved so fast in those years while raising three developing children and supporting a more than full-time working husband in construction. Sometimes, I wondered if this was a doctor’s wife-life. Did you know commercial electricians get calls at 2am? The power is out on a medical building.
There are writers here living this creative, busy life. It’s exciting to watch and tiring to know that the health eventually suffers from living on many highs. The bones pay, the stomach screams. In fact, when we moved in 2018, I was still working quite a bit. I decided John would have the new “spare” room for his music equipment and a space to play all those basses. I’d decorate it with my concert images and have one cupboard for a small portion of my gear. When I go in there today, the music stands block it in protest. But I’m still here.
I quickly went through my original office of many years, labeled, taped the boxes shut and didn’t look back.
I think I made a thousand trips to give things away when we were moving.
For a year I’ve been looking through memories from our storage container. Organizing, tossing — again. I found stories to write.
Our escrow was exactly 40 days. I packed the entire house down by myself in those 40 days, while anticipating the old 1953 home that had called me in from one google of “old homes for sale in downtown _________.” The one I thought would teach us something. I didn’t know what. But I blabbed about it (a lot) to a disgruntled husband who gave up the home he built for us — in exchange for one built by another family with all the crazy things we would eventually find out we had in common.
In the Bible, the number 40 often signifies a period of testing, trial, probation, or repentance, often followed by a new beginning or renewal. Check, check, check, check, and check. We came through it. It’s why I’m here and now putting those 40 days together. Wow.
Yesterday, I went through one particular box. It was a trove. I actually did a massive amount of work, which I don’t think I have ever acknowledged in the pace of living. 2020 was a sucker punch. I turned away from the memories. From all that I was.
That I am.
Tucked away inside was a stack of Instagram books I had made through “Chatbooks,” a company they introduced, as IG grew. I forgot I did this.
When Instagram first came out in October 2010 I watched it for awhile and joined eight months later in June 2011. Here’s my first post (picture taken from the first book) :
Notice, there is no caption. Just a picture. I discovered a side hobby to my professional life — which I loved — but this was different. It was a release, like knitting for yourself (which I don’t - but you get it). I was in this incredibly wonderful grinding space of creating and delivering in all the hours I could quietly steal without affecting anyone I cared about. I could just snap a little pic out of my phone and post it. Fun. No pressure. Storytelling in the unassuming hours of regular days, any days.
I had long given up trying to figure out how to make my old “Photos” app open on my newer and newer macs that wouldn’t let me in and were void of cloud storage. I decided to let go of the fact that I had a whole history of Instagramming (and not Instagramming). They were locked behind the gate of abandoned tech trains.
But I had them all along.
I lifted 31, 6x6, books out of the box. Why did I do this? I love to hold books in my hands. I love how art books, landscape and portrait books, make you stop everything you’re doing and take you to a place of patience and reverence. These are the fast paced personal, road tripping, visits to college kids, celebrations, mundane or not, everyday, running through New York City moments that eventually turned to “1% professional” pics scattered among iphone photos of shoots and anything between. A messy story of my life while I served the memories of others.
Within a year I met other Instagrammers who, like me, began to put a short caption under their picture. Maybe a quote. Strangely (but not) - with barely a word — I made a community in Oregon where my parent’s lived and I visited often. All photographers with similar passions. We met over pictures. I hiked with these people that loved to snap iPhone pictures like me. #pnwonderland (lol)
Like Substack, I made friends. Then Instagram took them out of my view and created a monster, by 2020, with censoring.
Somehow, “VSCO” has managed to keep “just a photo feed” - nothing else. It’s really nice.
You will see in a few pictures (attached) as to how my Instagramming changed from no words, to a description and eventually “hash-tagging” and then I began to include the hashtag “#followme” (gross), which I stopped doing, because I came to my senses. How quickly it changed. Soon my 1% professional pictures increased to “if you can’t beat them join them” as IG’s original purpose was lost forever. I also ditched my original DebTracey IG account and made a professional one with my photography name - then back to being me. In reflection it’s as disappointing as what’s going on here on Substack — and I don’t have enough words for what it does to us — and for what it takes away. Genuine fun. A bit of authenticity in the forced nature of machines.
Anyways, I was working portraits for all 22 years (still do some jobs here and there), weddings for 16 of those, editorial jobs scattered throughout — and for the last seven years of my career, as a contract pool photographer for a major university. I’ll begin to talk a bit more about life as a photographer in these areas — the art, the business and the passion to create and be myself. To temper my work to the priorities at hand and make it my ministry in a way. The beginning, the move from film to digital, the pressure and changes in the industry. I taught photography for six seasons in a private school environment and spoke at high school career days. I also spent many years mentoring and doing portfolio reviews here and there. I am proud of the people I helped to believe in themselves and go on to have solid careers and/or a deeper appreciation for the art.
Ask me a question. It could become a topic for the series :)
I may be old fashioned — but if you want to be a serious/working photographer, having a web based portfolio is important. It’s liken to delivering the old-fashioned hand-held portfolio. The public has been trained away from viewing condensed and specific art forms. Trained away from looking at artists in general. Art, photography are blended into a quick swipe or scroll among corporate and social influencers. It’s changed the way people view art, and often, the public has no idea what quality is anymore. However, those that take paying a photographer or an artist seriously — will, in fact, go directly to your website — even if the rest of the world won’t.
Look at Ted Goia’s chart that went viral last year.
The evolution of Instagram continues.
The evolution of everything continues.
Keep evolving as yourself. Take it slow.
Tagging a few photographer friends since I’m kinda in a Substack black hole these days (lol):
I was on Instagram for about a year, and then I bailed. It's just not for me.
Those little squares. It's like learning to edit out all the non-essential details. I'm a big fan of close cropping. I always tell my two who are into photography....crop close! Only give the viewer what they need! They will fill in the rest! I remember my first IG photo. I had bought an old American flag at a yard sale and hung it in the window in the boys bedroom in our duplex where we lived while building our sixth house. I'm not sure why I let my husband talk me into living there while we built. 7 of us crammed into 800 sq ft. Three boys in one bedroom and Misha and Austen in the other. Our bedroom was so small, I couldn't open my closet door for the dresser. I never saw what was in there, until we moved.
All the kids had their own bedroom in that 6 bedroom house! The first week after we moved in, it seemed like the entire youth group came back to my house because we had moved close to our church. I don't think they left for 6 years. Those were the glory days!
But remember how you could make a collage photo of 3 or 4 photos? I mean Instagram was a challenge back then! More recently, when I was driving into town for Bible study and my day with Misha and friends , I always pulled over to take photos of sunrises, old barns looming in fog, horses rolling in their pasture....I miss that. I bet my followers do too. I only really get to the lake now. I'm so glad you found those books. What a treasure. As a photographer, behind the lens, our heart and souls are in those photos. But only another art lover or photographer can see it. My husband recently said...if you go first, I'm just going to toss all your hard drives of photos. That cut deep. He doesn't get it.
And the house your husband built! It is hard to leave, especially when you built it with your own hands, but I've done that my whole adult life. 7 houses. No permanence. I've always wanted a flowering tree in my yard but it only happened once with a house we renovated. I feel that that has Been n my spiritual walk with the Lord....cut ties. Walk through a new door. Don't look back. Like Lot's wife. I just finished, How to Walk into a Room, by Emily P Freeman. It's actually more about leaving rooms. I think you'd really like it.
Beautiful, Deborah! I'm going to peruse your IG! 🩷