Again I return to this place with apologies and desires for change, for reform. I believe, in many ways, I feel as though not having interesting things to talk about makes blogs rather shallow things, but maybe, instead of thinking of everything I say as some sort of metaphor, or magnum opus, that I start to actually simply allow all that I ponder to simply be allowed to exist. After all, this is a blog, and a blog about art, writing, and my involvement in both.
In a way, I have been busy living my life through the motions that I have not yet stopped for a long time to simply be–to post because it was an outlet and an expression, rather than an obligation for attention, for views, or simply for being heard.
It is a fine balance: blogging. You want to be interesting, to gain attention, yet at the same time you want to be seen as you are–and to pray your opinion has some value in the long run.
And, in a way, I want to change that mindset of myself. I want these to be like private glimpses of the soul, of a way to explore the hardships, the joys, the trials, the fondest of memories in words. Who cares if I am brilliant? Who cares if I am loud, or if a post is not a five-thousand word count (which is bound to happen in my case being the wordy woman I am).
Especially now that I have attached this to my art website, I feel, in some respects, that it is all the more important to allow myself freedom.
To be honest, I don’t even know where to start with that. Maybe I’ll start by sometimes posting the writing that comes randomly into my head. Emotions caught on the wind and brought into me, somehow finding a nest in my bosom.
Maybe that is not interesting, maybe it is not clever: but it is me, and I believe, in the end, that is all I can be, and ever shall be.