November 23, 2004

Hearth and Home

   In conversation, the most interesting, profound revelations are often the things left unsaid.  In a journal, an unusually long absence between entries can provide the most enticing view into the mind of the author. 

    In the two years that I've been keeping this blog, I've seen several periods of inactivity.  Some have been due to over-scheduling, some to a simple change in daily routine, some to mild bouts of depression and creative dearth, and others to directionless hyperactivity.  Each time I finally manage to sit down at the computer and pound out a "comeback" entry, I always feel compelled to explain my absence.  Sometimes I manage to refrain from commenting in type, but I am always analyzing, in my mind.

    These are times don't quite synch up.  My blog doesn't match my life, my mind, or my mood.  This hardly surprises me.  Given the erratic behavior of my moods, I can hardly expect a mere website to keep up.   I look at some of the blogs I've been reading for two and a half or three years (longer than the entire life of this blog) that haven't been through a single site redesign, and I wonder to myself "Who are these people?  Are they the same people who never rearrange their furniture?  How can they be so creative, and yet so...static?"  And the corollary  "Why can't I find a web design that I can stand to stick with for more than a few months?  Why can't I create the one?"

    But for me, creating is very much about the moment.  And my surroundings must change with the passing moments, even if the change is ever so subtle.  I fiddle with the objects on my desk.  I switch the location of pictures on the wall.  I change my desktop wallpaper several times a week.  I redesign my website. 

    I have come to that realization.  This is just what I do.  This is what I am.  I change.  When I asked Shorn if he was 'still trying to figure me out', he didn't even look up from his book. "Nah, I figured you out a while ago."  He said.  "You're unpredictable."

    I have been neglecting to post because my blog and I are particularly out of synch right now.  Life is in the moment right now.  Bubbling.  My website is old, every time I open it.  My new, different journal page is so last Wednesday.  Last Friday or Saturday or this Monday I might have updated, but I just couldn't do it without changing the journal page and I couldn't do that without explaining everything.  You see how it is.

    So, from now on, things may change or not change, randomly, as often as every day.  And without explanation or excuse, or even a blog entry.  And the changes may be ugly or unwieldy of full of broken links, but so what?  Life's too short to fret over the perfect web design.  So you get what you get, and it's all me.  The me of that moment.  A little digital time capsule of me-ness.  Like the me of today, who has some kick-ass shoes, and who just took the first steps towards a teacher's credential (I filled out the FAFSA! I must be serious!), and who has been coping with random ovary pain all day long (please don't let me wake up in the middle of the night with a cyst), and who is going bake three pies tomorrow (because that's just how cool I am).