
Andulka
AnasAbdin

Kiana Khansmith

PR's Tumblrdome
almost home

titsay
🪼
dirt enthusiast

Love Begins

祝日 / Permanent Vacation
wallacepolsom

oozey mess
we're not kids anymore.
No title available
TVSTRANGERTHINGS
styofa doing anything
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
h
cherry valley forever
YOU ARE THE REASON
seen from United Kingdom
seen from Türkiye
seen from United States
seen from Venezuela
seen from India
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from Bangladesh
seen from United States
seen from Canada
seen from Venezuela

seen from India
seen from United States
seen from Venezuela
seen from Germany

seen from Türkiye
seen from Brazil

seen from United States

seen from United States
@marinastan
Instagram is A Tiny Speck in the Ginormous Oil Painting of Life
One topic I think about obsessively: Instagram. More specifically, the psychological effect it has on me.
A while ago I posted a tweet saying I felt conflicted about social media, and the responses I got were surprising. People said that Facebook gave them anxiety, only going on certain sites when their mood was stable, whilst others deleted and re-activated their accounts regularly.
Illustration by Ana Galvan
I’ve always had a love-hate relationship with these platforms but they have so many pros that it makes them hard to quit. They connect me to like-minded people, are informative, make me laugh and give me an instant connection to my fanbase. It’s amazing to feel a level of relation in real time. However, in the last year I’ve noticed that every time I go on Instagram I feel kind of flat + zapped afterwards, like somebody has literally sat on my brain for 5 minutes. It’s oddly deflating.
Social media apps are designed to make us addicted to them. Human behaviour is reward based and each time we get a “like” or a message, our brains release a hit of dopamine, which makes us feel rrrreeeeal good (until the dopamine level drops and we feel real bad). Instagram is basically digital meth So, for the past year I’ve been deleting the app off my phone for large periods of time, then re-downloading it if I want to post something. Interestingly, the feeling I get upon returning is always the same: I’ve missed nothing!
I understand social media’s appeal most when in relation to constructing a fantasy world. I’ve used it as a creative tool on every album I’ve made. Tumblr was key to “Electra Heart” and Twitter was key to “FROOT”. But what at first seemed like an opportunity to communicate our thoughts in an uncensored way has become a vehicle for us to present ourselves in the way that we would like to be seen by others. And this is what makes me feel weird about posting sometimes. A review I read of the film ’Ingrid Goes West’ nailed this feeling: “We use these platforms to lie and intentionally curate our lives”. The curating part hits a chord with me. It makes me feel icky, because I’ve surely, if subconsciously, done this - the majority of us have if we’re using the platform. How do I get around that and use it in a healthier way? Do I just delete the whole thing or do I need to be aware of the reason I want to post something? i.e. Is it to share an image I love, or is to make people think of me in a certain way? The latter creeps me out. It scares me.
Illustration by Allegra Lockstadt
Recently, a friend said he had been going through a difficult period, so he hadn’t gone on Instagram for about a month. “Why would I? Everyone is having such a great time”. Ohhh, the digital illusion of happiness. OK, some people are genuinely having a great time, and they want to share that great time with you, but they’re not having a good time all the time. And that’s the key to remember when we’re embarking on a scrolling spree into the darkest depths of existential hell at 2am. Social media is a tiny speck in the ginormous oil painting of human life! We all have problems. We present the good parts of ourselves because it’s anathema to document the true nature of our lives, which inevitably consist of moments of disappointment, loneliness and embarrassment. None of these things look pretty or cool (no, not EVEN if you put the Mayfair filter on top of them), and I can totally see how it all started out innocently. We all love sharing special moments, but because these moments hold social currency online, we’re now doing only that. It’s easy to see how people can feel disappointed when their own lives don’t measure up in a similar way.
Illustration by Lan Truong
We’re still in the infancy of the internet, trying to navigate technology in a way that is beneficial to our lives, but I sense a shift towards a desire to portray our lives more realistically. I notice more people sharing an experience or story in the caption of a selfie/ photograph that provides more of a picture of their life than the actual photo ever could. But I still wonder how we can evolve online culture into a space that is less image-focused/ self-driven, because I worry about the psychological effects that an image-focused culture might have on a young person’s self-esteem. 20 years ago, posting a stream of pictures of only my face would have been considered borderline narcissistic, but now it’s normal. And I’m not judging this - I’m talking from the perspective of someone who has done this a’plenty and who has been a part of that culture, particularly at the height of an album campaign. But perhaps all Instagram has done is magnify what seems to have always been true, that humans value beauty to excess.
Ok, I’ll end this post by saying this: If I never go on Instagram again, my life won’t lack anything because of it. Assuming I use it 20 minutes a day, I’ll get back 122 hours a year - for free! The reality is, I’ll probably continue to use it, but it’s important to me to see these platform for what they are, not what they appear to be. They’re addictive, comparative, take my time and give little back in return.
I’ll leave you with my fave comment which came from @FKASimon.
Quite, Simon, Quite.
Love, Marina
Ask a question or a share a thought here!
It Takes A Long Time To Get Over Yourself
Oh, man. This letter has taken me an embarrassingly long time to write. Probably because I haven’t written anything but e-mails and Tweets for 12 years.
If the last year has taught me anything, it’s this: it takes a long time to get over yourself.
Last March, after 7 years on the road, I decided to take a break. I was excited about this. I’d imagined myself watching tv all day, being a “chill person”, eating doughnuts because I didn’t have to wear latex catsuits anymore. The reality: not quite the joy ride I’d been expecting.
I’ve been an artist for over a decade but up until this year, I hadn’t realised how much my sense of self had been defined by my role as an artist. I’d never thought of “Marina and the Diamonds” as a persona or a construct, and I didn’t think the stage-me was very different to the sofa-me. MATD was an exciting vehicle that helped me express ideas and thoughts to people. But just as people construct online personas, artist construct visual ones, and over time, the lines between art and reality can drift apart.
I can’t remember when I first became conscious of it but I started to feel like there were two parts of me, artist self and private self, and there was nothing in between to link the two anymore. I was one or the other, and neither part of my personality could be present in the same environment. Perhaps because I’d spent most of the past 8 years devoted to being an artist and this hadn’t presented many opportunities for other parts of my personality to grow. When one part of a personality dominates, other parts shrink and life can take on an unreal, two-dimensional quality. I felt confused as to why I no longer felt like I longer fit into the world I’d built. I don’t think my feelings are exceptional (particularly in entertainment) but I wonder if you are someone who has experienced this in a different context.
I’ve always been interested in identity. In my twenties, I felt frustrated by how regularly my identity seemed to shift and change until I began to consider the idea that a fixed self may not exist. I explored this in “Electra Heart” by deconstructing aspects of female identity in a portrayal of female archetypes. However, the past year has made me re-examine this idea. Not being able to equate my identity to a job, project or visible entity has created a lot of discomfort and uncertainty in me. Which has been a surprise, as I thought I felt secure in myself. How can I be so sure of who I am if I am so susceptible to change? A lot of what contributes to our idea of identity is down to pure chance - ethnicity, social class, upbringing, religion, job, relationships - who are we without those influences?
Everything in western culture feels so geared towards self-definition, but I wonder if having a looser idea of yourself could make life richer. The past year hasn’t been full of rainbows - I feel like my brain has been brutally rewired - but letting go of a perceived idea of myself has resulted in a new kind of personal freedom. My image is no longer a main source of identity, nor are previous signifiers like clothing (more on this in a future post), designer brands + other things I subconsciously used to define myself.
Lasting change rarely happens over night. This past year has been painful and slow. But I’m in a more genuine space than I was a year ago and I would never want to go back to that stunted way of being again. In fact, the only solace I had in this period was being able to read the books and blogs of other people experiencing significant life transitions, so I hope this might be of help to anyone who is going through a similar stage.
Truth is, I’m not planning ahead much right now. I am indeed going through my “what should I do with the rest of my life” phase that most people go through at 21. Which is… cool. But I’m grateful to have the opportunity to explore different interests, and starting marinabook is a part of that. I’m starting a Psychology course soon, which I am SO excited about, and I’m ready for a brand new chapter. I hope you’ll be a part of it.
Some people have been asking about new music and I’m always flattered to be asked. I know one year is like an aeon in digital time. The honest answer is I don’t know when that will be, but the connection I have with music has always flowered from an honest connection with myself, and I trust my instincts.
Whenever I get back on stage again, I would love to feel like I am the sum of my parts, not the sum of a persona or an image. That’s the goal. A lot of reality with a little bit of fantasy. So, marinabook is a way for us to stay connected while I work that out.
I miss you all!
Ask a question or share thoughts here.
Love from, Marina
Further Reading
Brilliant explanation of personas here. 5 minute read.
Podcast on how our views about the Self affect our views on death. By “Philosophy Bites”. 15 minutes.
Illustration by Lan Truong
Priorities first.
Ahead of Marina and the Diamonds' performance at Samsung 837's NYC Pride event on June 23, we caught up with the singer to speak about the Orlando shooting, the importance of LGBTQ Pride, and her close relationship with her fans. Read here!
Are you working on any new music right now or are you focusing more on personal life? I actually am! As of the past two weeks, I started writing again. And I really want to be very diverse in the way that I’m writing, so I don’t necessarily want to stick to an album for the next thing that I release. It may be much more dispersed and carefree.
@MarinasDiamond on twitter (06.26.16)
Marina at 837NYC snapchat
10/07/2009 || Marina Diamandis performs at Wedgewood Rooms.
bubblegum bitch // lollapalooza chile
⭐ Neon Nature Tour Look Book ⭐
“Sassy 70s pink glitter rockstar. I then used key reference points from pop acts like Cher, Abba and Boney M.” - Austin Louis Parry
So I met Marina and she’s the cutest @planetfroot @onlysadsongs
I put the final FAQin Hell videos together from Marina’s Twitter to make one final video.
i feel like marinas next project isn’t an album, its her getting a philosophy degree
Interview with Marina and The Diamonds at the Lollapalooza backstage.