I'm lost after having read a poignant article from either Reuters, the New York Times, or the AP about an ongoing critique of the blogosphere that complains about blogs being only reactionary and not uncovering anything new.
I'm sure there are folks who would say, "no shit — that's what a news service is for." But at what point does one's responsibility lie with doing more than pointing fingers? How far can spouting one's opinion go? Does it make me feel any better? Does it make me a better person? Does it change the world?
I think one of the pieces I wrote did help a few people. It was a personal memoir piece about the recent loss of my grandmother. A few people replied about how that piece touched them, and how they had had similar experiences with the loss of an elderly relative.
I guess that's why my postings have waned lately. I'm thinking I may pull back until I have things of substance to really write about, instead of finding timely news items to rail against, or for.
Or, maybe, it's time to really bare my soul, and to start posting every day about the mundane acts in everyday life that actually shape the tapestry that is our life. Each individual element, taken alone, seems so inconsequential, but together, within that tapestry, you realize that without specific, individual stiches, the tapestry would not be the same.
And here I lie at the threshold of yet another metamorphisis of bent spoon.
I want to encourage my creative partner, Steve, to send me more images, since I have found great reward in collaborating with him. He sends me an image, and then I produce writing that I feel fits the image. The reaction to the image and text pieces has been great, too. I think people like to see them, and read them.
Then I'll also start posting more personal pieces. I think tomorrow's will be about the dad of one of the kids on Tanner's baseball team. He's one of those people you meet, who has an incredibly sunny disposition about everything, who makes you feel like shit for even contemplating sarcasm. But then you stop feeling like shit because his outlook on everything is so positive that you realize your self-imposed critique will do you no good.
Let's try to pick up with that, shall we?
Oh, and then there will be my reaction to Steve and another friend calling me tonight at 11:45 after a night of drinking to, after a lot of dancing around, tell me that they missed having me in Boston.
Well, I miss being there with them too, but that's a tale for tomorrow, after I've absorbed what it feels like to miss and be missed.