It's tricky for me to write this blog. I've read from bloggers that one should not blog about blogging. I even have this creepy feeling that I am supposed to be linking the word "blogging" to the person/ post where I read that. But I am going to claim the novice role and this is why: I am not entirely sure what the purpose of my blog is yet (hence the hesitancy to share with others...where there is no vision the blogs perish...I don't want others to watch a part of me perish. I don't feel that makes me unique.) Is this a journal? Is this where I develop the writer in me that at times has expressed a desire to stand and then is politely sat back down as the rest of my life demands all my time and attention? WHAT AM I TRYING TO MAKE HERE?!?!? Is it a memoir? Is it all of those things and how much of each? WHO IS MY AUDIENCE?
These questions plague me, and that is why no one knows about my internet experiment except my Mom and Paul. I have no true secrets. I mean that. There's not a thing about me that I haven't at least attempted to express to either or both of those people. Like many others, I simply don't process without speaking. (That's also very UNLIKE many others, I have come to learn. For example: Paul. Opposites do attract. How on earth would I have the time to process if Paul spent all day talking? Really. We're a perfect match.)
So for now, Paul and Mom, you are my audience. I am allowed to mess up my lines in front of you. Immediately I feel relief. These are rehearsals and Mom and Paul are watching as I develop this character that I will be for this blog...this seems so true to real life. And so we go.
