Long-Term Photo Projects vs. The Social Media Trap
The long-term project is a form of quiet rebellion — a declaration that we’re in it for the long haul, not the fleeting hit of attention
There’s a unique, quiet power that comes from finishing a long-term project — the kind of work that unfolds over months & years, not days. Once you’ve tasted the feeling of completing something like a photobook, you realize you’ve stepped onto a path you’ll walk the rest of your life: the endless, long project toward the next book, the next body of work.
I’m always happiest when I’m out in the world, fully absorbed in my latest pursuit. It’s the work itself — the process, the making, the noticing — that feeds me. But inevitably, life intervenes: a workday gets derailed, momentum stalls, or the project hits a slow patch. That’s when the old itch creeps in — the pull to post something, anything, on social media.
For me, it’s become a signal. The minute I start feeling the need to impress anyone or to show something off on Instagram, I know deep down: I’m drifting off track. I’ve spent years slowly arriving at this realization, yet do I always follow this hard-won insight? Hell no. Like most of us, I fall back into the same cycle again and again — until I catch myself, reel it in, and try to reset.
Each time I do, I hope I’m getting a little better. I hope I’m shortening the gap between distraction and clarity, between shallow validation and deep focus. One day, maybe I’ll be strong enough to only post when I have something worth sharing — a finished book, a gallery show, a meaningful milestone.
This all begs a question each of us has to face: aren’t we ultimately making this art for ourselves first? If that’s true, then our compulsive need to post frequently on social media flies directly in the face of that sentiment.
The long-term project is a form of quiet rebellion — a declaration that we’re in it for the long haul, not the fleeting hit of attention.
It’s a reminder that meaningful work doesn’t announce itself loudly or rush to be seen. It builds, day by day, in quiet rooms, on long walks, in the pauses between distractions — shaping something richer than a feed full of passing moments.
When we choose the long game, we’re choosing depth over speed, substance over surface, and a kind of fulfillment that doesn’t depend on likes or algorithms. We’re saying: I trust this work. I trust myself. And I trust the time it takes to make something real.
Here are a few recent images while working on my current Delta project in and around Rio Vista:
I’d love to hear what you’re making or longing to make. Hit reply or leave a comment — let’s remind each other that the deep work is always worth it.
Benjamin Fargen
This is such an important topic for all of us creatives that are online in one way or another. I’m split with how I feel about “saving” our projects by only sharing them when they are “done” vs. sharing progress and updated work associated with said project on a regular basis. Ultimately, we all work differently and personally I go through periods where I’m sharing so much recent/ongoing work and then I eventually/inevitably go through times where I’m sort of just digging through my archive and/or sharing stand-alone photographs.
Part of me (as of the past few months) sides more with the idea of sitting with a body of work for an extended period of time and letting it marinate in my own head and archive folder. At the end of day, if I like what i’m making then that’s all that matters..
TLDR; Do what makes YOU happy with your creative endeavors. And *try* to not take this social media thing so serious..
Rant over. 😵💫
Thanks so much for sharing your thoughts and beautiful images. Since I’m a beginner my actual project is learning. From writing I know how satisfying long-time projects are. These are for yourself.