The thought of starting and maintaining a blog gave me immense feelings of hope; could this blog-o-sphere be the entrance to a world of fame hitherto unknown to me? A couple of times I got on blogspot.com and muddled over what to name my blog, what clever theme would it have? Like in many areas of my life, I could not commit to just one idea, so I abstained from even getting started. Why would I want to spoil my naive notions of what peace and satisfaction a blog might bring me when I could spend hours, days, weeks reveling in how great my (forthcoming) blog would be?
Inspiration overtook me this Spring, though. My curiosity grew arms and began typing itself with my last entry: "Let there be a blog!" my muse cried unto me, and who was I to argue? And a glorious entry it was, laden with Woolfian prose and witty asides. As I feared would come to pass, though, I was crippled by my bombastic entrance into the virtual world. None of my thoughts could surpass the arrogance of, "Let there be a blog!" What had I done? Again and again, I clicked on "New Post," only to produce what amounted to so much merde. Draft after draft was abandoned as I realized that I didn't want to divulge my mundane life to you, faithful readers. Having a blog is not about veracity and realism, but rather about pursuing one's fancies, finding like-minded followers who, so like your author, love to lose themselves in others' musings for a short while, and no amount of snarky sarcasm would satiate that goal.
Then it came to me, in a fit of desperation - when I was all but ready to start yet another, newer, better blog - why not create a blog of "First Blogs"? What subject could be more prone to enthusiasm and hope than the optimism of a first blog entry? It would be like making a New Year's Resolution every day! If, for some reason, I failed to post, what difference would it make when each entry is just a revelry of what is to come? An effervescent glimmer of hope? And what better time to start such a blog than the beginning of Spring, the season of rebirth? So here's to Spring, new beginnings, and whatever this (glorious) blog will bring!
If your daily life seems poor, do not blame it; blame yourself that you are not poet enough to call forth its riches; for the creator, there is no poverty. ~ Rilke
Monday, March 26, 2012
Saturday, March 24, 2012
It starts.
And she said to all who could hear her (mostly the sleeping dog at her feet and the pictures lining the walls), "Let there be a blog!" and there was... after a series of false-starts and serious intimidation. And it wasn't the greatest blog that ever existed, but it provided her with an outlet, a window through which she could look inside herself, if she ever figured out how to achieve that angle.
No, hitherto the creation of the blog, there had been a plethora of artifacts intended to serve this same purpose - journals, diaries, notebooks... friends and boyfriends to whom she whispered her fears and dreams, but the books sought shelter in the corners of forgotten drawers, years of insipid pondering abandoned in moments of glee. The friends and lovers, like the books, proved themselves selfish, and the conversation always one-sided. Neither form of companionship offered her the reciprocity that the potential commentators would, nor the confidence to explore writing as a form of expression, non-academic, non-functional, but simply writing for the sake of writing.
Perhaps sometime in the future she'd build a league of followers, inspire young people to spend time creating, not just consuming, be featured on a talk show or podcast, publish any number of her coherent musings, but for the time being, upon creating her blog and envisioning a glimpse of the future they might have together, the creator took a sip of latte, smiled to herself, and proceeded into the coming days full of hope.
No, hitherto the creation of the blog, there had been a plethora of artifacts intended to serve this same purpose - journals, diaries, notebooks... friends and boyfriends to whom she whispered her fears and dreams, but the books sought shelter in the corners of forgotten drawers, years of insipid pondering abandoned in moments of glee. The friends and lovers, like the books, proved themselves selfish, and the conversation always one-sided. Neither form of companionship offered her the reciprocity that the potential commentators would, nor the confidence to explore writing as a form of expression, non-academic, non-functional, but simply writing for the sake of writing.
Perhaps sometime in the future she'd build a league of followers, inspire young people to spend time creating, not just consuming, be featured on a talk show or podcast, publish any number of her coherent musings, but for the time being, upon creating her blog and envisioning a glimpse of the future they might have together, the creator took a sip of latte, smiled to herself, and proceeded into the coming days full of hope.
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