I remember thinking that I wouldn’t have any problems writing once a week when I started this blog. I read about all the people whose blogs had fallen to the side or bloggers who only posted sporadically. I foolishly thought that I wouldn’t be one of those people.
But now here I am, months out from my last blog post.
Yes, pride comes before the fall.
I don’t want to make excuses, but I think telling myself why I haven’t posted (or even written) in so long will help me focus on the direction of this space I was once so excited about.
I’ve been busy between work, family, job opportunities and socializing. When I started the blog, I was working part time, I had very few friends and I lived at home. Basically, I had endless mornings to write and think. I also had tons of energy to devote to dreaming and researching. Now I’m full time, I’ve made friends and I am living a grown-up life with rent, bills and meals to cook. Time and energy to dream and research? It’s not so much there anymore.
I don’t know what I think about art. When I started, I thought I wanted to write about art. I noticed a gap in the blog world — very few artists write about their art, their process or their struggles. No one is encouraging amateur artists to create or sharing insight into how to find time. But I don’t know what I’m doing. I’m not even doing. And, honestly, I don’t know that I want to do. My real passion and talent might be in other places.
So now I can’t decide what to write about. I hoped that I would just figure out a topic quickly, and my blog would be useful to readers right away. I wanted to serve my audience, small though it may have been, immediately. But I’m learning that I don’t know anything. Maybe I have to put in some time of aimless blogging. Maybe its my due. And maybe that aimless blogging will find a destination.
I am suddenly aware that people I kind of know are reading what I write… Scary. My family loves me no matter what, and they are wonderfully supportive. Even strangers are fine — I don’t know them, and I probably never will. But when friends and acquaintances started liking my Facebook posts about the blog, I realized that some of them might have actually clicked and read. I’m kind of baring my soul here. What will they think of me? My grammar? My voice? My photos????? [Confession: I think too much about what other people think of me, but that’s another post for another time.]
Things are changing though.
I have quiet mornings to write.
I feel the drive to dream again.
I let go of the need to write about art.
Instead, I decided I’ll write about life. I want to share my life: working, living in an old house and small town, cooking and shopping for one, learning to be independent. Maybe the blog doesn’t have to serve a purpose right now. It’s simply a reason to write and a way to connect. A new beginning for this space.