Today I exported from Flickr all 779 photos I've uploaded since 2005 and deleted my account.
It's a curious feeling. I make a living wearing two hats. One is that of a composer and sound editor. The other is the software developer hat, and I do most of my work on the web.
Flickr was amazing web 2.0 - at the start of web 2.0 - a symbol of connection, discovery, inspiration, and playfully attempting to better the world through creating and sharing amazing content. But that web is gone and has been replaced by a new web - fat on code, reliant on cashflow, thin on trust, skinny on ideals. And the world of 2005 seems so distant now, and somehow the world of 2019 feels far less romantic.
That's what makes the goodbye so bitter-sweet. On one hand I'm tired of being tracked and looking at ads and taking in content that has been crafted, sometimes maliciously, to engage and emotionally sway, and in the extreme case extract some profit. In this case, merely tired of my content being Oath Inc's property. On the other hand, despite my fight and everyday effort to make a brighter, more honest, web, the vast majority of work I do has to ultimately lead some client to some kind of profit.
Free or paid, the web in 2019 isn't the same, and what looks like my intensely personal memories, no longer belongs to its naked public side. I haven't a new idea where to share these visuals. But also as we've moved the bulk of our lives online, our personal communication seems to have thinned so much, and has become so streamlined. The personal implies intent, subject-based imagery implies politics, interaction implies surveillance, it simply feels easier and more appropriate to take it all, jpegs and json and memories, to a private folder somewhere.
Turns out online storage of virtual baggage still takes up headspace. I'm freeing up this little part.
I'm on Telegram (do say hi), and on Instagram (@eesn, which I also contemplate removing. Get in touch if you'd like to chat realtime - on Telegram or elsewhere).