As some of you may remember from my Philly archive blogging days, I get rather excited about parchment and long-dead white dudes. But somehow, leaving the world of the 1800s meant dropping the ball on my blogging habits. As non-sensical as that sentence may seem, I’m sticking with it.
In any case, I struggled for a long time to pick a new theme for my blog. If I’m not writing about AHFODs (awesome historical fact of the day, for those of you who’ve somehow forgotten) or my wonderful Parson Weems, who would actually read this?! Could I only write about bizarre nerd things that no one actually cared about?!
…at least that’s what I’m telling myself.
I’m throwing caution to the non-existent wind, and proceeding theme-less. As many of my friends have suggested, a blog seems like a good place for me. I’ve yet to decide if that’s a nice way of saying “you tweet too much” or “you over-share already”, but I’m forging ahead.
I’ve realized in the passing months that I do indeed have much to say, but nowhere suitable to say it. Oddly enough, it wasn’t until the Osama events of the last 24 hours that made me realize how isolated I feel in much of social media. Though some blogs inspire me (like Kate, Amulya and Rohini), most blogs I read have felt more and more detached from a voice I can understand. In any effort to feel less removed (also, 140 characters, WTF), I’ve decided to revamp my over-sharing habits.
Part social commentary (for anyone who’s watched Glee with me can attest to, my comments are many), part journal, this space is largely for me. At the very least, it’s a space for me to feel proactive about my voice, particularly in a media world that continually forces me to be negatively reactive.
I suppose the “purpose” of this blog can be summed in one of my favorite maxims, which will adorn the header of this space: “let me live, love, and say it well in good sentences” (sylvia plath). The ritual of writing has forever been cathartic for me, but largely private and entirely purposeful. I’ve flown through journals to shed myself of heartache, loss, fear. I empty the words in hopes they empty the sentiments that inspired them. As a public space, blogging can perhaps counteract this. This will be a constructive, enduring space — in whatever form that takes.
(This is part where I resist all urges to be hokey, but recognize it’s in my blood, and thereby end by saying this…)
Let’s begin a walk down casey lane.