Seattle, Washington, United States
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Wednesday, October 27, 2010

Blogging.

I've sat down at the computer several times this evening, infused with a familiar dread. I had absolutely nothing to write about. This has, of course, happened before. And the days when it happens tend to yield pretty weak entries. As such, I was, quite frankly, distraught.

But I've decided. Today I will blog about blogging.

What is it about sitting down to write my blog that is so satisfying? Addictive, in fact? And for those of you who read loyally, why do you do it? What possesses you to come to this website every Wednesday night, Thursday morning, or Sunday afternoon? I think I've found an answer.

Several friends of mine were recently in a play called Talking With... It became an instant favorite of mine after seeing it performed once. It is a series of eleven monologues delivered by eleven actresses playing eleven women from drastically different walks of life. In one of the monologues, the character talks about "lacerating self-exposure." It's funny in context, but the words carry a certain weight.

Isn't a blog really just that? If the blogger allows it to be - and I'd like to think I do - a blog is perfect, lacerating self-exposure. My thoughts, feelings, and perceptions are put out plain and bare for you each week. You consume them and send them back to me in the form of gratifying thanks, Facebook "likes" and esteeming compliments.

So a blog, at its essence, is really a relationship. A close, personal, symbiotic, entertaining relationship.

Maybe that's why I feel you all so closely when I'm typing.

May your coffee be strong, your passions electric, and your laughter easy.
-Michael

1 comment:

  1. I have to ponder this issue a bit. For me, my blog is not "lacerating self-exposure" but rather a time to pick up an idea, no matter how trivial (and I prefer the trivial) and play with expressing it in words. I tend to see my readers (about a hundred of them, many fewer than my facebook friends) as special people who are allowed to look over my shoulder. I don't write to please them, but I do make an effort not to displease them, if that makes any sense.

    Now that I am retired I have lost my arena for ideas and communication, the students who I taught for nearly fifty years. In the normal course of things, you would have become my student, but that is not to be. So I read your journal and see your intelligence and sensitivity and know what an interesting young man you are, as your mother indicated to me. And I like your blog a lot, though it serves a purpose to you that is different from my own blog to me. I don't know how much interaction you and I might create, but right now you maintain my interest and curiosity, young man. :)

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