Recently, when asked by some of my parents' friends what my blog was about, I had to stop and think pretty hard about what to answer. I ended up describing it as a "thoughts blog." Granted, that makes me sound like a total narcissist..."Oh, I don't need a theme (nose slightly upturned, sniff). My thoughts are so wildly entertaining, I simply post them unedited! The peasants love it!" Ok, so my imaginary snotty self is perhaps a little exaggerated. I know people don't really see that in me. In fact, being self-deprecating about narcissism is its own kind of narcissism. Point is, I think I have an automatic resistance to pigeonholing. Don't get me wrong, I love mom blogs and cooking blogs and craft blogs. One of my favorite blogs in the world, written by a dear friend of mine, consists mostly of posts about her garden and the chickens and ducks she's raising with her precious family in their backyard in Chicago. It is absolutely fascinating; I never thought I'd say this, but I can't get enough of the chicken stories. If I had beautiful daughters and a backyard full of green goodness and poultry, I'd probably write about that too, though not half so entertainingly as she does.
My life feels like a patchwork. I work in rhythmic cycles of obsession with different interests and ideas. When I first got back to Mexico City I spent a couple hours every day on my piano. I still try to play daily, but that obsession has waned a little, replaced temporarily by my love for Arthurian literature. I spend probably the same amount of time reading Arthurian material as I spent before on the piano. I've been captured by needlework lately, and bought an embroidery hoop and floss and started learning embroidery stitches. I've no doubt the kick I was on just before coming to Mexico City, learning French, will recapture my interest at some point. I have more interests than I could possibly remember all at at once, and they come cyclically back into my life unbidden. I just want to be able to post whatever is simmering on the brain burners. Sometimes that's deep-ish stuff, like doubt and tragedy and beauty. Sometimes it's just daily stuff, like cooking and crafts. The type of blog that my stage of life would most naturally pigeonhole me into would be that sort of "Trendy Single Girl" blog. Which would mean I'd feel compelled to post recipes involving goat cheese, or a tutorial about how I used mason jars to make something brilliantly original, or (heaven forbid) makeup or fashion tips. I'm not knocking the people that do. They're wonderfully trendy single girls who are living life on purpose, and I like that. I just don't feel like narrowing this to one area of interest, because that interest will wax and wane, and sometimes I just won't feel like posting about crafts or Arthurian literature or food. I realize I could have several different blogs, but something in my unity-loving soul recoils in horror at the thought. The best choice for me, then, is my conglomeration.
I've mentioned some of my current obsessions. A couple more: Bach's Invention No. 13 in A minor; the incomprehensible grace and ease that comes so naturally to cats (perhaps it's because I've been away from her for two years, but I just can't get enough of watching my cat's behavior); my parents' walled garden in the back of the house, which I can see out the window when I wash the dishes, or to my right when I'm playing the piano, or out the sliding glass doors from where I'm sitting now at the bar between the kitchen and the dining room; my friends in Mexico City, with whom my time is so limited and so incredibly precious; helping people find books that they will love. I recently found a quote by Joss Whedon (brilliant man that he is) that fits quite nicely with the philosophy that we find our niche in life when we're creating (more on that, perhaps, at a later date). Anyway, I think it's a good way to end this post. Take it and do what you will with it.
No comments:
Post a Comment