For the past week, I've been away from the computer. We don't have a reliable lap top, and even if we did, we were away in the NC mountains, and finding a WiFi spot would have been a hassle. Besides, I traveled almost a thousand miles to be with my family, not to stare at a computer screen. It's astonishing to realize how much of my life now revolves around that computer screen, both in my free time and my work.
Still, I've been enjoying my new experiments in cyberspace--2 blogs created and a website, all in the month of November--no wonder my brain feels like it may explode. It felt strange to drop out of all that activity for a week.
And now I return to pick up these threads. I used to write novels (but always, I fell apart in the revision and submission to publishers phase). Occasionally, I'd be away from my writing desk, and return to that novel. Trying to pick up the threads of my blog feels like that process--except that my blog is about part of my real life, or so I think. Have I become a character? A character in a work that I'm creating?
How post-modern is all of this? Or did writers and other artists always feel this way? When writing fiction, I was always amused at how many bits and pieces found their way in to my creative work. And blogging is similar--I'm always thinking about my blog, what should go in, what should stay out. I'm always on the lookout for good blog topics.
Still to be determined--will this blogging detract from my other creative efforts?
Ending the Summer with Disobedience
1 week ago