I have news for you, my Gentle Readers, news which should make you twitch, if not positively leap with joy. I am on Instagram, and may say, in my usual humble style, that I am owning it. Head over there right now, if you want to see my adorable photos of adorable things. I will leave it to your internet sleuthing prowess to find me there, but here is a hint: #godofsmallthings
I am rather taken aback by my Insta-addiction. I never took to facebook- it seems creepy and intrusive and stalkery, and twitter makes you sound mad and simple-minded. But Insta makes you feel like a creator of beauty with the the expenditure of minimum effort; it makes you look sophisticated, talented and “interesting”.
The main problem with Insta is the same as the main problem with facebook, twitter, blogging and commenting on public forums, that is, Other People. I do not mean you, Gentle Reader, you are obviously a person of refinement, possessing the highest discernment and the most luscious good taste (otherwise what would you be doing here?) But I mean all those other people, whose photos litter the spiralling scroll of Instagram, each one a little obstacle you must overcome in order to reach your own wonderful photos. Other People really do take annoying photos, but then again, that is half the fun of Instagram. The weaker half, to be sure.