When you’re chronically online as a creative, it’s almost a given that you’re going to experience an identity crisis at some point. Or an artist’s block, impostor syndrome, burnout.

It’s hard not to question your individual taste when the algorithm positions itself as a tool that knows you better than yourself. Is this content appearing on my feed because I like it, or because the algorithm favors what's already widely liked? What would it take for my art to gain the same kind of attention?

Arry, auster’s resident copywriter, shares how online media has influenced her taste, and how intention and awareness help her stay true to her voice despite the chaos of the digital world.

What made you join auster?

Its mission of supporting creatives and preserving tradition! Before I went freelancing full-time, I worked on a government program for the creative industries. And as a creative myself, I know how much artists need that extra helping hand to pursue a career doing their passion. I wanted to be part of something meaningful like that.

As a writer, how do your online experiences and the media you consume influence your work?

They show up in my work a lot, considering this is our reality, the world we live in right now. I often find myself referencing other poets, movies, shows, and pop culture in general, but they’re always intertwined with my lived experiences. And whenever I can, I try to place them within larger social contexts because these cultural products don’t exist in a vacuum, and it’s important that we understand how they shape our psyche. Most of what I consume is still something I actively seek out. I specifically look for them and choose to read or watch them, and by extension, let them influence my work, whether consciously or not. I’ve been online since social networks were just starting to take off, back when our feeds were still more or less a curation of things we chose to follow. When we’d manually search and like “badminton” or “piano” on Facebook, among dozens of other things. So I like to think that I’ve got a good sense of my actual “likes,” even if the algorithm keeps trying to get me to care about Timothée Chalamet and The White Lotus.

Do you think it’s still possible to remain authentic and develop a unique taste these days?

Definitely. It’s challenging, yes, because the internet can be disorienting, especially now that most content just feels like a coagulation of microtrends. As an artist, it’s hard not to feel pressured to create something similar, because that’s what gets visibility. Or to even just understand them, with so much content just being layers upon layers of rehashed and referenced content. For me, that’s why being grounded is important. I’m not saying I’m 100% grounded all the time, but if you know yourself enough outside the internet and do the work to experience things other than what algorithms tell you, it becomes much easier to define your own taste. The line between online and real life can get murky, and as a teenager, that’s something I struggled with! But now, I’ve come to terms with the fact that while the internet inevitably influences me, my taste, my worldview, and my art are also shaped by many other things, mainly my own experiences and the string of choices I make.

In what ways do your identity, culture, and experiences influence your taste as a creative?

In more ways than algorithms influence me, I want to say. While I write about universal topics, it is my upbringing and the socio-cultural context I live in on a day-to-day basis that give my work nuance and, I hope, make it more relatable to people like me. It’s the same with my taste. I’m drawn to works that come from, and speak about marginalized sectors—women, queer people, the working class, people of the Global South. I’d be lying if I said Western media doesn’t influence me at all, but I make a conscious effort to choose works by progressive artists.

How do you discover new writers or creative inspirations outside of the algorithm?

A huge part of it comes from the creative influences I had before algorithms became as dominant as they are now. A lot of it has to do with intention. I look up works and authors that are similar to the ones I already like, or themes, issues, and styles I’m into. I’ve also come to know a lot of new artists, music, movies, and literature through my friends’ recommendations. My friend and I went to an indie bookstore recently, and he knew I’ve been reading Natalia Ginzburg so when I randomly picked up Alba De Céspedes, he recommended that I read her because she’s Ginzburg’s contemporary. I try to visit galleries and exhibitions whenever I can. I spend time with the people I love, trying out new food, visiting new places, doing new things. Even if it’s not a new experience, the act of doing can be an inspiration in itself.

How do you push back against the algorithm?

Resisting the algorithm starts with really knowing yourself and understanding the broader social systems we’re all embedded in. If you have a strong set of values and principles and a clear worldview, it’s harder to be swayed by whatever you see online. The algorithms are not neutral, they reflect and reinforce broader social, economic, and political structures. The concept of cultural homogenization is not new, Adorno and Horkheimer wrote about it decades ago. It’s just that the mechanisms and technologies driving this process are evolving with the times. Also, I have my Youtube recommendations turned off, so I only see content from creators I follow. I know big tech has my whole internet history and that my phone is probably always listening, but doing this small thing makes me feel like I’m in control.