Blogging

Had an interesting conversation with two friends the other night, both whom I have invited to read my blog in the past and neither who do, from what I can see. I asked them about it, about why they don't read my blog. Both of them basically said that in one way it feels strange to them to read something I have written on my blog if I haven't been speaking to them about it personally. Sort of like it feels like they are invading my privacy, in some way.

I do understand what they mean. It kinda makes sense to me. Especially because I am so personal on here. It is just my style; I cannot seem to change it (although I have been considering going out and actually finding some things to write about that aren't about me. Just for something different and rather more interesting :) I think of Helen Garner's finely wrought observations on morgues and such places. She's a bit of a hero of mine. I do wish to turn my gaze outward and get out there, rather than just blubbing about my inner landscape, as patently fascinating to me as it is, heh :)

But for someone who considers herself a writer, who still harbours a desire to write for publication in some way, shape or form, I'm interested too in the perception differences between a blog and, say, if I had an article published in The Age. I would imagine both of those people would most likely go out and buy a copy of the newspaper if I had an opinion piece published in it (I hope so, anyway :) And from a writer's point of view I guess I kind of don't understand the discrepancy, in a way. It's like one form is socially sanctioned, and blogging is seen very differently. I totally understand where my friends are coming from when they say what they say. And yet, for me, the position I come from is totally different once again. I guess for me, blogging and writing in other formats are much more closely linked. I guess I sort of presumed that everyone else thought the same way, too.

(Unless of course I am going on assumptions that aren't there and neither of those friends would bother buying the newspaper to read my article in it. Hopefully one day I shall get to see whether that is the reality :)

It's funny when it comes to blogging. Even though I do love the community aspect - I love the conversation that sparks up sometimes cross-blog, with different people talking about the same things. I love the whole comments aspect of blogging too. And yet for all of that, the basic urge to write and express myself is what sends me back for another post.

Having said that, I am struggling to find inspiration to write the last week or so. It's not a particularly common thing with me; I do not like it when it happens. I have three half written poems; they sit there waiting. Which is okay. I'm more confident in the process these days - it is tidal and sometimes percolative and slow-burning. Anyway, I talk far too much as it is. Good to put a sock in it every now and then :)

I have such a love-hate relationship with the internet sometimes. It feels like it gives on one hand and takes away on the other. Depending on the particular situation, sometimes it can make for outright paranoia if you take it too seriously. What does that person mean by that statement, etc. Why did they say that particular thing? What were they talking about? How can you tell, just from flat words on screens what people are really thinking or saying, in the end? So many avatars, smoke and mirrors if you take it anything but lightly.

Conversely, the opportunity for good conversation is there too and I have made a lot of good blog friends. But honestly, sometimes it just creeps me out so much I feel almost revolted by it.

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Okay. Let's take 2 in going to sleep. I am exhausted with my standard winterly circadian discombobulations. Most people sleep more in Winter - I sleep less. I'm cactus. Plus, my cousin died yesterday. She was only 49 years old. We weren't really ultra close so in all honesty I'm not grieving horribly in a personal sense. But even though we weren't close, it is always a shock to lose someone you have known all your life. And I grieve for her husband, for her two sons. She was a lovely lady and they were a lovely family. They must be reeling right about now. If you are of the praying persuasion, then please feel free to go right ahead for them.