Blogging. Sigh. I always tell people, “blog whatever, you don’t have to tell your life story every time”. Blog your breakfast (latté and sausage croissant from Balluchon), blog your thoughts on a movie you just saw (Sleep Dealer: really thoughtful, compelling analysis of the future water crisis, not sustainable as a movie, would have loved to see this as a mini-series) or blog about whatever (auto-tune makes listening to Virgin radio impossible and what a great disappointment that is ’cause I’d sure like to hear some decent pop music every now and again) … just channel your inner St. Francis de Sales and write.
Over the last year or so, maybe even two, I’ve lost my desire to blog. There are many reasons why – one, everyone and their chimp is a blogger or content producer these days and … I love it! So instead of producing, I’m busy consuming: Jill over at I Blame the Patriarchy is the funniest writer I’ve ever read; and Clive Thompson, whose curiousity always seem to run parallel with my own intellectual yearnings, is great; and my savvy friend James’ who’s currently writing a manifesto for indie musicians using Marshall McLuhan’s media theories and love of the field approach as his guide.
So there’s that.
And also, my personal blogging energy has been focused on knithacker.com (you really have to see these Spock socks). I’m constantly looking for new hacks on flickr and Ravelry, almost daily in fact. It’s good fun.
Add in family foolery and friends and work and gym time and laundry and and and… and all of the spaces in between. There’s not much time for grand adventures. But I guess that’s my point, these daily details are part of the grandest adventure of all.
“Life is what happens to you while you’re busy making other plans.”
Did John Lennon really say that? Maybe not, but to whoever did, touché.
So… I’m taking my own advice starting now and making some space (again) for the random and in between.