The Internet Is Loud (and It Has No Plans to Lower the Volume)
She goes online with a modest intention: to encounter something genuinely interesting. Within seconds, that aim is overtaken by instructions. A video begins without invitation. An item she already owns is reintroduced as a necessity. A stranger with conspicuous efficiency is suggested as someone worth following. Content engineered for maximum engagement arrives, polished and oddly synthetic. The internet no longer feels like a destination. Instead, it behaves like a crowd conducted by an algorithm that believes it knows better.Algorithms Don’t Listen—They Infer
Despite the mystique, algorithms aren’t perceptive. Instead, they are energetic guessers. A single click becomes a declaration of identity. A passing glance turns into a personality profile. From there, the volume increases, the pace accelerates, and the variations narrow. What follows isn’t exploration—it’s inertia.When Noise Pretends to Be Useful
The frustration isn’t rooted in quality alone—it’s the refusal to pause. Pop-ups interrupt. Videos autoplay. Notifications feign urgency. Suggestions insist on relevance. Everything claims to be helpful while demanding constant attention.For a painter, this is more than irritating. Silence isn’t a luxury in creative practice; it’s essential. Subtlety can’t be heard while something keeps shouting for approval. I explore this idea further in When an Abstract Painting Starts Talking Back.
What Slips Through the Cracks
Algorithms reward repetition. Familiar ideas rise quickly because they’ve already proven themselves. Art rarely follows that path. Meaningful work develops through uncertainty, experimentation, and long periods that appear unproductive before becoming essential. That kind of growth doesn’t fit neatly into a feed, so it often disappears beneath louder, simpler patterns.The Loss of Aimless Discovery
There was a time when the internet resembled wandering through an unfamiliar city. Links were followed out of curiosity rather than persuasion. Today, it often feels like being escorted by an overzealous guide who keeps presenting more of what it assumes you wanted. Sometimes, discovery begins with not knowing where you’ll end up.Quiet as a Deliberate Choice
These days, I edit aggressively. I mute, unsubscribe, and stop scrolling halfway through. Not simply out of frustration, but out of respect for attention. When everything competes for notice, meaning begins to disappear.In the studio, enough voices already exist—materials, hesitation, resistance, and possibility. There is no room for an algorithm measuring performance. That relationship between focus, process, and intention connects closely with The Value of My Work as an Abstract Painter.
Less Volume, Deeper Focus
The internet shows no interest in becoming quieter. That decision has long been automated. I can, however, decide what deserves my attention. Slowing down, protecting focus, and making room for quiet are choices that support both creativity and meaningful work.Creativity doesn’t benefit from optimization.
It requires air.
Available Work:
