Tuesday, April 24, 2007
After coming across what seemed to be the 4000th or so post on someone's blog starting with "I'm sorry I haven't posted in awhile." I decided it is time to rethink what makes a good blog and the expectations that have come to be part of it. I am thinking that no one should utter those words again . . .and with that thought I give you Blogging Without Obligation. Feel free to grab a logo, make a logo or whatever you want to do! Take the idea and run with it or walk away. . .it's all good.
Because you shouldn't have to look at your blog like it is a treadmill.
Because its okay to just say what you have to say. If that makes for a long post, fine. Short post, fine. Frequent post, fine. Infrequent post, fine.
Because its okay to not always be enthralled with the sound of your own typing.
Because sometimes less is more.
Because only blogging when you feel truly inspired keeps up the integrity of your blog.
Because they are probably not going to inscribe your stat, link and comment numbers on your tombstone.
Because for most of us blogging is just a hobby. A way to express yourself and connect with others. You should not have to apologize for lapses in posts. Just take a step back and enjoy life, not everything you do has to be "bloggable".
Because if you blog without obligation you will naturally keep your blog around longer, because it won't be a chore. Plus, just think you will be doing your part to eradicate post pollution. One post at a time. .
Amen to that!
Monday, April 16, 2007
Claire and I were walking down the street when we saw a room-mate of hers walking towards the station with a rucksack on his back (Kaan, for those of you who remember). I asked Claire where he was going and she said, “He’s moving back to Turkey”. And that’s all he had … a rucksack. What did he do with all his ‘stuff’? He left it behind.
Just a rucksack to move from one country to another.
(Whenever we’ve moved house from one town to another we’ve need a fleet of pantechnicons!)
Claire and I started talking about travelling light. I told her about the Celtic saints who carried the concept of “home” in their souls. They could set out on their peregrinations (look it up on Wikipedia lol) for months or years, but be “at home” wherever they found themselves.
Later, Claire sent me a book – “The Global Soul” by Pico Iyer. In it “Iyer sets out on a journey – both physical and psychological – towards a definition of home in this world gone mobile”
Also around this time, a friend (Maddy) said I was like a person carrying around big heavy suitcases. What I needed was one of those lightweight nylon rucksacks. She was speaking metaphorically.
So I’m getting rid of a lot of stuff that I’ve been carrying around for years. I lost the most important stuff through carelessness anyway.
Some of it is physical and some of it is duty, obligation, false responsibility. Blah blah. You know what I mean.
So I’ve been thinking about what I REALLY need … what I like to have with me and around me if I want to feel at home. (I’m not including people.)
My list of essential home items:
A few books and magazines.
My pencil case with all sorts of pens, craft knife, scissors, glue and toy soldiers.
My lovely new tan leather work bag containing more pens, my journal, my homework diary and some sketch books.
Obviously my glasses.
My bag with my art stuff in it.
Some CDs (and something to play them on).
That might be about it.
In the next few weeks, I’m planning (loosely) to go to North Wales to take a look around. I’ll take all those things with me so I can stay anywhere for any length of time and feel reasonably at home.
But I might run home crying after the first day.
Friday, April 06, 2007
Like A Lamb
I think it’s because the thing that has impressed itself upon me this Easter is not something I can easily visualise in a picture. So I’ll write it instead.
Jesus, the Christ, knew the power of words. He preached with them, he taught with them. He encouraged with them and he scolded with them. He blessed and he cursed using only his words. With his words he healed sick people. His words had power. They had the power to change lives and change situations.
I hate bullying, abuse, violence and torture. It appals me, angers me and frightens me … all at the same time. How must it feel when horror and pain are being unleashed upon you and you are totally helpless to make it stop?
Lots of films deal with “the myth of redemptive violence”. Our hero is down and virtually out. Almost defeated at the hands of his enemy. Then suddenly, his head comes up, there is a steely glint in his eye, and he fights back … stronger, quicker, and more powerful than ever. The enemy is defeated. Good has triumphed … but only by being even stronger and more violent than evil.
On Good Friday, Jesus was captured, tried and found guilty by a kangaroo court. He was tied up, verbally abused, was whipped to within an inch of his life and had the shit kicked out of him.
Everyone was waiting for his head to come up and for him to fight back. All it needed was a word to unleash heaven and hell upon his captors. With a word he could kill them all or make them suffer.
But “he opened not his mouth”. Such strength, such power, such self-control … to say nothing.
And so, like a lamb, he was slaughtered.
Sunday, April 01, 2007
Just a Note
So I copied them onto a disk. I wrote a label and stuck it on the disk. I wrote out a little note on a compliment slip. I addressed an envelope and put the disk and the note in it. Sealed it and stuck a stamp on it. Mooched down to the post box and posted it. Skipped back home. (OK … I made that last bit up). There was something very satisfying about the whole thing.
I read somewhere recently that in these days of email and mobile communications (not to mention the dream of a paperless office) that sales of stationery are soaring. And it seems to be true. There is so much choice of stationery now and so many people say how much they love it.
I have some friends who send me an email when they want to communicate dates, facts directions etc to me. But when they want to tell me they are thinking about me and care about me, they send me a really lovely postcard. I keep them all, and treasure them. I delete emails (eventually).