Scrollwork

It’s a strange thing to do something all day until you’re too tired to do it anymore, then relax by scrolling through your phone and watching other people do the same thing you just finished doing. The algorithm sends me nostalgic music clips, questionable comedy, and cute dogs that look like one we still miss, but it always comes back to stonework.

When I open Instagram, I have noble intentions.

I’m checking in on my friends and peers. I want to see their work. I want to see how their projects are progressing. It’s a thin line of connection.

I’m hoping to be inspired. There’s people all over the world doing amazing work. I want to see something I’ve never seen before. Or something I’m familiar with done exceptionally well.

I’m learning too. Maybe I’ll discover a new technique or find the solution to a problem I’m dealing with in my own work.

If I stay on the app long enough, those noble intentions can give way to less flattering ones.

Maybe I’ll compare myself to others. There’s no shortage of people who appear to be incredibly successful. And if I’m not looking at those who seem to be ahead of me, whatever that means, I can always find someone else’s work to pick apart if I need to feel better about my own.

Maybe I’m hoping for a few more likes and follows. Maybe I’m hoping one new connection will lead to another, then another, and eventually some amazing new opportunity.

Maybe if I open the app one more time, I’ll find out I’m rich and famous.