I am completely amazed (in that good kind of way) by my friends with blogs.
I have a friend who has been blogging for about 7 years. It is a family commentary, social connection kinda blog, with happy pictures of the kids and dogs. I don't go to the page often. Not that I don't want to hear about the kids and dog (I do, and I like the Christmas card newsletter once a year). It is more that it is a lot of exactly-the-same. The same trip to the pumpkin patch. The same kids on the swings. The same family portrait in front of the fire. Yes, there are the blogs about the dirt-mess that the kids created while hunting for lightning bugs. Yes, there are the blogs about inspirational bible passages. Yes, there are even blogs about volunteer efforts and good deeds. I am periodically inspired, but not enough to read it all the time. I don't have a life that is that routine, that captured in pictures, that similar to all the other once a year letters I have read. I suppose that shows happiness, and I can appreciate the need to have that spill over into the virtual world. I just can't do it.
I have another friend who just writes just poetry. Okay, not exactly *writes*. Sometimes the blog is just other people's poetry. Sometimes it is my friends’. Often it is awful. Periodically it is good. Rarely is it stellar. But the fact that it is out there is the part that impresses me. It is my friend’s expression. I love that. If I was going to write poetry, I suppose this would be my blog exactly. I don't write poetry. I write fiction. I also write a blog that I don't care if anyone reads. If I wrote poetry, I would want people to read it, and I guess that is why this friend posts the poetry to the blog. But since I don't, and I can't wrap my brain around the flowy or edgy or meaningful prose, I don't read it often.
I have a friend who has a blog all about fitness. It includes graphs and charts and links and advise and some calorie-counting-eat-this-not-that-protien-power-all-vegan-yoga-guru stuff. I have been there once in the last six months. Like my gym membership, I have let it lapse.
I have a friend with a world travel blog. I am too jealous to read it most of the time. I like the pictures.
I know a person who started out with a simple home-ec-how-to blog years ago. It was friendly, sweet, inspired. It was before Pinterest, but had a collection of links and recipes and likes. It was fun to look through and see what I could do in my bathroom or kitchen, and what was inspiring others as well. I stopped reading it the day the first ad went up.
I have one friend who puts herself out there in a way that scares and inspires me. She is able to say the work "fuck" better than anyone I have ever met. She even wrote a blog about that very topic. I love that she is fearless in a way I am not. I read her blog, both her new one and her old one, whenever I can. I am a fan. She is living her life in a fast lane, take no prisoners, no holds barred way that leaves me breathless. I want to be her. I also don't. Her writing is beautiful, and raw. It is scorched and edgy. If is flawless and in your face, and makes no apologies. I find both humor and sadness in her blatant honesty. I love that she is real, and I could have drinks with her. I will read what she writes. It makes me think.
So I wonder what my place is in the world of blogs? I don't think I will ever add advertisement to my sidelines, so if you are reading this now, rest assured I will not be bombarding your viewing screen with cat food ads or vacation planning services. I don't think I will ever care how many people are actually reading the blog, so don't expect a hit counter any time soon. I don't write poetry, so that is not likely to come up either. What I am creating for my place is a bit of both laziness and necessity. This blog, to date, has been a place to vent my frustrations, share my happiness, energize my mind, and enrich my soul. I hope I do not bore people who do read it, but mostly I hope that the stuff I have locked up in my head that keeps me from my real life has a place to be. Sometimes quietly, often loudly, always with my truth.
So keep reading. Maybe something will inspire you to start your own. Let me know, and I will stop by sometimes.
I have a friend who has been blogging for about 7 years. It is a family commentary, social connection kinda blog, with happy pictures of the kids and dogs. I don't go to the page often. Not that I don't want to hear about the kids and dog (I do, and I like the Christmas card newsletter once a year). It is more that it is a lot of exactly-the-same. The same trip to the pumpkin patch. The same kids on the swings. The same family portrait in front of the fire. Yes, there are the blogs about the dirt-mess that the kids created while hunting for lightning bugs. Yes, there are the blogs about inspirational bible passages. Yes, there are even blogs about volunteer efforts and good deeds. I am periodically inspired, but not enough to read it all the time. I don't have a life that is that routine, that captured in pictures, that similar to all the other once a year letters I have read. I suppose that shows happiness, and I can appreciate the need to have that spill over into the virtual world. I just can't do it.
I have another friend who just writes just poetry. Okay, not exactly *writes*. Sometimes the blog is just other people's poetry. Sometimes it is my friends’. Often it is awful. Periodically it is good. Rarely is it stellar. But the fact that it is out there is the part that impresses me. It is my friend’s expression. I love that. If I was going to write poetry, I suppose this would be my blog exactly. I don't write poetry. I write fiction. I also write a blog that I don't care if anyone reads. If I wrote poetry, I would want people to read it, and I guess that is why this friend posts the poetry to the blog. But since I don't, and I can't wrap my brain around the flowy or edgy or meaningful prose, I don't read it often.
I have a friend who has a blog all about fitness. It includes graphs and charts and links and advise and some calorie-counting-eat-this-not-that-protien-power-all-vegan-yoga-guru stuff. I have been there once in the last six months. Like my gym membership, I have let it lapse.
I have a friend with a world travel blog. I am too jealous to read it most of the time. I like the pictures.
I know a person who started out with a simple home-ec-how-to blog years ago. It was friendly, sweet, inspired. It was before Pinterest, but had a collection of links and recipes and likes. It was fun to look through and see what I could do in my bathroom or kitchen, and what was inspiring others as well. I stopped reading it the day the first ad went up.
I have one friend who puts herself out there in a way that scares and inspires me. She is able to say the work "fuck" better than anyone I have ever met. She even wrote a blog about that very topic. I love that she is fearless in a way I am not. I read her blog, both her new one and her old one, whenever I can. I am a fan. She is living her life in a fast lane, take no prisoners, no holds barred way that leaves me breathless. I want to be her. I also don't. Her writing is beautiful, and raw. It is scorched and edgy. If is flawless and in your face, and makes no apologies. I find both humor and sadness in her blatant honesty. I love that she is real, and I could have drinks with her. I will read what she writes. It makes me think.
So I wonder what my place is in the world of blogs? I don't think I will ever add advertisement to my sidelines, so if you are reading this now, rest assured I will not be bombarding your viewing screen with cat food ads or vacation planning services. I don't think I will ever care how many people are actually reading the blog, so don't expect a hit counter any time soon. I don't write poetry, so that is not likely to come up either. What I am creating for my place is a bit of both laziness and necessity. This blog, to date, has been a place to vent my frustrations, share my happiness, energize my mind, and enrich my soul. I hope I do not bore people who do read it, but mostly I hope that the stuff I have locked up in my head that keeps me from my real life has a place to be. Sometimes quietly, often loudly, always with my truth.
So keep reading. Maybe something will inspire you to start your own. Let me know, and I will stop by sometimes.
