Sometimes I doubt my commitment to my online profile. Sometimes I forget what my motivation is and the point of the exercise (the exercise of blogging) gets lost. By that I mean, the whole premise for the blog’s existence was to draw me out of the confines of a written journal in the hopes of further developing my writing while at the same time, allowing the catharsis of journalling to continue. This has presented me with a number of dilemmas though; for instance, my journal entries often included any number of trivialities, interspersed with truly alarming mental outbursts—neither of which I was especially keen to publish within a public forum, no matter how obscure my readership may be. No one wants to hear a humourless rendition of how I ate toast and then took the children to the park and how tedious I ultimately find my days, nor would anyone want to hear too much about how I lost it at Doc, threw a bag of compost at him and then locked myself in the bathroom for half an hour. Such things run the risk of becoming overshares, or just poor reading. Although I do err toward the overshare at times, it’s usually in an attempt to illustrate a broader point.

This has led me to the habit of not writing anything until I can at least link some of my trivial goings-on (or indeed, alarming mental outbursts) with something beyond my own small domestic realm; something that hopefully provides comment or at least has resonance with a wider audience than just myself. But as I wait for these rare opportunities when I can transform nothing into something slightly less nothing, great gaping holes appear in my postings, great silences which sometimes make me feel adrift and I begin to wonder why I even bother with the thing. It also means that each post, when they do eventually materialise, becomes more like an essay which, in itself, is not a problem (I am a big fan of the essay as a writing style), but can be too much of a commitment for the average pressed-for-time attention span.

They say if you want to write, or be a writer, then you must do so every day. So should I blog every day? This seems excessive. But then I suppose one needs to ask, what is it that one wants from a blog. Is it a self-serving device, like having an online personal gym? Or is it a profile? And it is this latter point which sticks, because it makes the whole concept of audience (potential employers) run a constant interference in my thought process. Nina Power’s concept of us all being walking CVs* leaps to mind here, which is a bit depressing really. Is my blog destined to end up in the same state as my LinkedIn account, a kind of outdated, poorly maintained resume in desperate need of strategic restoration? Or will I allow it to be whoever it wants to be, whatever that is…

I’m not sure. And now my thread has somewhat run out and I want to move onto something else. Like my looming tax return.

But if you are visiting this space, I’d prefer for you not to leave empty-handed and as this post is severely lacking in any insight, here is something which has been giving me considerable joy of late, If you are a classical music fan and enjoy the soundtrack to the Hannibal series, perhaps you will enjoy it also. My particular favourites are the Itzhak Perlman – Zigeunerweisen by Sarasate and the reworked Aria of the Goldberg (Mizumono).

*From Nina Power’s One Dimensional Woman (Zero Books)


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