I've Completed 30 Art Lessons on Nibble. Now I See the World Differently

*Disclosure: This story was created in partnership with Nibble. The author is a real Nibble user who received a free gift in exchange for sharing their honest experience. Views are their own; individual results vary

I deleted X/Twitter. Not because I planned to — because I had to.

The polarization was overwhelming, especially around politics. The comment sections were brutal, particularly during election cycles, both in Colombia and globally. The aggressive tone, the constant negativity — I just didn't want that in my daily routine anymore. 

I'd close the app feeling completely drained. Scrolling through negative comments and headlines just depletes your energy. I still use Instagram. It's how I stay connected to friends and follow my favorite artists across visual art, music, and entertainment. 

But I needed something to fill the gap X/Twitter left — something I could reach for in those same idle moments without walking away feeling worse. That's where Nibble came in. What I didn't expect was how far it would take me.

When I discovered Nibble's art section, it just... happened.

I'm passionate about learning about artworks — especially about the artists themselves, their historical context, and what was happening in their lives and in the world around them. That context helps you understand the work on a completely different level. And I found that in every single Nibble lesson.

Honestly, I didn't realize I'd done so many until I ran out. At some point, I'd gone through all the available lessons and started revisiting the ones that had really stuck with me. The motivation is curiosity. When something captures my interest — when a topic really hooks me — I just keep reading. I don't have to force it.

"The 30 lessons happened gradually. Day by day, I'd read a new lesson, and eventually, I looked up and realized I'd hit that number."

Part of what made it sustainable was the format. Sundays are my time to read more, to reconnect with my hobbies and passions. I'll usually go through three Nibble lessons with a good cup of coffee, taking advantage of the coolest part of the day in Barranquilla. It's a hot city — we don't have seasons. 

Sundays tend to be sunny but breezy, and Sunday mornings especially have this welcoming, comfortable feel. That's when I carve out time to read. It's different from weekday reading. 

During the week, I'll screenshot things if something catches my attention or if I want to dig deeper later. Sunday is for the deep dive — for really losing myself in a topic.

Whenever I come across something about Caravaggio, I'm there — I'm reading. I'm fascinated by both his life and his work. Caravaggio lived an incredibly tumultuous life, full of highs and lows. 

He lost his family at a young age, which forced him to navigate life on his own. That solitude, that sense of abandonment — it had to have shaped how he saw the world, and you can see it in his paintings.

One work that stood out in the Nibble lesson was ‘The Calling of Saint Matthew.’ I was struck by the theatricality of it — the light, the shadows, the way the figures feel so alive, so real. 

And then there's Caravaggio's violent streak, his criminal record. That darkness shows up in his work, too. He often painted himself into scenes — sometimes in brutal, violent roles. I knew his technique before Nibble — the chiaroscuro, the tenebrism, the way he used light and shadow. But I understood it as a formal choice, an artistic style.

Then the Nibble lesson showed me his life. The violence. The murder. Running from the law. Street brawls. A man living on the edge, constantly.

Suddenly, those shadows weren't just beautiful — they were autobiographical. The stark contrast between light and dark wasn't a matter of aesthetic preference. It was how he saw the world. How did he live in it? Extremes. No middle ground. His inner chaos, rendered in paint.

"Now, when I look at 'The Calling of Saint Matthew,' I don't just admire the composition. I see a man painting his own life — his guilt, his search for grace, the darkness he couldn't escape. It's not just art history anymore. It's human."

All the lessons give me something, but the deepest shifts happen when I encounter artists I don't know — or works I've never seen. That's when my entire perspective changes.

🧠 Next time you reach for your phone out of habit, there's a better place for that minute — download Nibble and use it.

Recently, I was playing a board game with my girlfriend and her mom. It was a trivia game covering all kinds of topics — one of them was art. I didn't miss a single art question. As I was answering, I kept making connections to Nibble lessons. 

I could answer because I'd either read it in the app or come across it somewhere else after learning the foundation through Nibble.

The Impressionism questions were especially tricky — it's notoriously hard to tell those artists apart. But I got every single one right. They were both pretty surprised and asked how I knew so much about art. Nibble was a big part of the answer — along with books and documentaries I've watched since.

It happens with movies and anime, too. Once you start learning about iconic works and movements, it's hard not to notice their influence everywhere. You see a scene, a composition, a visual reference — and it just clicks.

Then there's my day job. My love for art goes way back. When I was in university studying mechanical engineering, I took an art history class — and I never stopped learning about it. 

I'm drawn to color, form, and composition. Especially Surrealism. I love that willingness to step outside what we're used to, to blur the line between dreams and reality. It's a form of disconnection for me — a way to appreciate beauty from a completely different angle.

That shows up in my work. When I'm designing dashboards, I'm very intentional about color choices. I've always tried to combine art, science, and a sense of meaning in what I build. 

You absorb these concepts — structure and aesthetics — and they come through. People have complimented the visual design of my dashboards and reports. I think that's the artistic thinking at work.

Before Nibble, I was learning from books, documentaries, museums, libraries — traditional sources. Those are still valuable, but what Nibble solved is immediacy. 

"I have this information in my pocket, on my phone, whenever I want it."

The lessons are like appetizers. They give me just enough to spark curiosity, and then I can go deeper with other sources. But there's also the interactive piece — the puzzles. That's huge for retention. Remembering specific works, dates, names... that's not easy. The puzzles make it stick in a way passive reading doesn't.

I usually go deeper using books, documentaries, biopics, or AI tools. If I come across an artist I don't know, I activate what I call my 'research protocol.' Sometimes I'll layer Nibble lessons with other sources to get the full picture. 

Other times, the Nibble lesson becomes the starting point — a foundation I can build on to learn more about a specific work, the historical context, or the artist's life.

Start with curiosity. Let go of the myth that you need formal training or background knowledge to appreciate art. You don't. You just need to let yourself explore.

Find a work that sparks something in you, and then learn the context around it. Who created it? When? What was happening in the world at that time? How did the artist grow up? Why did they become painters? 

That context helps you interact with the work on a deeper level. You don't have to know what it 'means' — you'll know that through what you feel and how you connect the artist's life to the work itself.

Start small. Nibble is a great entry point — you get historical context, you see the works, you engage with puzzles. It's interactive, dynamic. Just let yourself explore. When you feel overwhelmed by social media or realize you've been scrolling for too long, that's your moment. 

Learn something new. Something that genuinely interests you. It doesn't have to be art — it can be anything that pulls you in.

There's a David Lynch quote I love about ideas — he says they're like fish. You catch them, develop them, and go deeper and deeper. That's how knowledge works, too. Little by little. Layer by layer. Just keep going deeper.

If you've ever closed a social media app feeling worse than when you opened it — or wanted to learn about art, history, or culture but couldn't figure out where to start — this is worth your time.

Fredys' story points to a few things Nibble does that other learning apps don't. The lessons lead with the human story behind the work, not academic definitions, which is why a data analyst ends up reading about a 17th-century murderer and can't stop. 

The built-in puzzles solve the retention problem that passive reading never does — Fredys walked into a trivia night and didn't miss a single art question. And the bite-sized format makes it easy to build a real habit, whether that's three lessons on a slow Sunday morning or a quick weekday read between tasks.

Eager to read more user stories like this one? Check out these articles and learn how else Nibble can benefit you:

• Why Nibble Is the First Thing I Look Forward to When My Alarm Goes Off
• How I Built Self-Discipline Through Daily Nibbles of Learning

Nibble works across topics — art, science, history — so you're not locked into one lane. You pick what genuinely interests you and let curiosity do the rest.

🧠 If you want to replace some of your scrolling time with something that actually leaves you feeling good — start here on Nibble!