Tuesday, January 29, 2013

Withered on The Vine

Not me. My poor damn blog.

I have a half dozen unfinished posts in drafts. They run the gamut from the ubiquitous, but always dramatic, blog shutdown post, to the cheery and superficial ball re-rolling post, to me blogging about shiny object #527. The only thing they all have in common -I couldn't be arsed to finish any of them, and none of them were really saying much of anything.

My own voice has been just about the least interesting thing possible to me for more than a year. A year in which I have lived fully and happily, and thought complexly about the world around me, and read and made stuff and loved the hell out of my people, but haven't really felt the need to write about it and/or have written about it old school, in my journal, just for me.

I haven't quite put my finger on the whys and wherefores of the shift exactly, except to acknowledge that I was beginning to feel overexposed, and overwhelmed by digital pleasures turning into digital chores. Too much.

Most of the things first and foremost on my mind are not mine to share. I have to respect my husband and sons' needs for privacy, which often leaves me at a loss as to how to talk about stuff without actually talking about stuff, y'know? I find myself more and more mystified with all the online over-sharing, particularly certain of the mommy of autistic child bloggers. How is little Timmy going to feel about every detail of every childhood meltdown following him into job interviews when he is 20? So as my boys get older, I am trying to be more sensitive to their privacy needs than ever. Sure I am blogging under a pseudonym, but how hard is it to put 2 and 2 together? Not hard at all, really.

And I am not making art right now, and won't be until I don't know when. (If you see my muse tell her to call. I kinda miss her.)

But I am still proud of this space, and don't feel the need for the big dramatic rage quit. So my poor old blog languishes away here.

No post since Halloween?

Tsk tsk.

I did take photos of Christmas cookies and other odds and ends specifically to post...and they are still on my camera. They were really tasty, and very aesthetically pleasing though -you'll just have to trust me.

The big 13th birthday is coming up. The boys have decided on a Tolkien theme this year (I didn't actually die of joy, but it was a close call there for a few minutes). So there should be pictures of cake forthcoming. I will at least have them stored on an SD card on my camera...how's that for promises?


  1. Seeing a post from you always makes me smile, no matter how long inbetween. I hear you, I really do. And I laughed with you several times here, as I have pulled from draft and polished and saved unposted no less than 5 times my So Long And Thanks For All The Fish dramatic exit post.

    I keep coming back and one of my naggy voices tells me I'm needy or narcissistic, but another says it's OK sweetie, you have to chronicle everything you see and feel to process it and make it real, and typing is so much easier than actual writing. So I blog when I can, what I can, just a peek through the curtain.

    I pulled out old journals the other day, years of handwritten testimonials, and had the same thought I had looking back through the photo archives, that things have been pretty good all around, in the long run, even if some of the nows were pretty awful or tedious or confusing... I'm glad I kept all that to help me remember.

    Anyway, I hope you keep blogging when it suits you and say all you're comfortable saying. And I hope you get around to sharing those cookie pictures, I love your foodie posts. As one who's fought every facet of her computer, with email and photo editing problems, that sometimes it's easier to walk away from the gadgets and go live a life. Maybe find your muse again.

    and ps I am loving revisiting Disney vicariously through you, thanks so much. And a LOTR birthday, oh my. Have you seen The Hobbit yet?

  2. keep open, and all will reveal itself.
    gin is more conducive to paint. wine, to song, beer, to dancing to Bruce Springsteen in the front room.
    rum is for sitting.
    all of the above, you know i love.


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