In the just-over-a-year that I've been writing this blog it seems to have evolved from a photography study into personal journal with pictures. It seems to be getting more personal by the day, which leaves me wondering exactly what is appropriate to put here. Is it the job of this space to be pretty and cheerful? (I have that in me.) Inspiring? (Erm, some days, maybe.) Real? (Well this seems like the obvious choice. But down this path lies danger.)
So I was scared yesterday to publish a catalogue of my failures. There's a part of me that feels like it's so immodest to make all of this public. Dirty laundry should be private! And then there's the part of me that has discovered this space feels like a release valve... my life gets so full, and pressure builds, and publish and a measure of relief. I guess I'm not sure what the exact right function of this space is yet, but I'm feeling my way through the dark by instinct. Soon I will get some light bulbs, and then we'll have a real party!
Amy Z left this in a comment yesterday, which I love: Revel in living life outside the crop. It's where the REAL stuff happens that makes up the rich fabric of your life, dog puke and all. Those struggles - be they laundry or light bulbs - are what connect us all as imperfect humans.
Thank you so much for letting me be imperfect here. Pretty and cheerful feels like an awful lot to live up to. Thank you so much for telling me your houses are messy too. Maybe real people do live this way. Thank you so much for letting me be real. (Unless you are my mother-in-law, in which case it was all an exaggeration for comedic effect. We're great. Really.)