For stumbleupons

rosemaryandpansies

There are changes in this space; I did some deciding, cleaning, and setting of boundaries. A lot of posts that used to belong here (published, drafts, privates) were migrated to another space, an old blog I’ve been using concurrently with this one. That particular place has always housed the messy flux of daily life: thoughts, feelings, resolutions, and references to texts that have touched me in some way. It’s messy, a lot of entries are raw and unfinished.

The exact difference between these two blogs has always been unclear. Should I trace reason for this duplicity, I find that the existence of these two spaces is symptomatic of two distinct desires. The first is the desire to share, and the second is to document. The former requires care and attention to an audience; the later is merely for myself and the things I need for sanity and remembrance. Necessarily, one is public and the other one private. In practice, these two spaces have been muddled primarily because I haven’t really clarified the difference until now.

I’ve thought about what I wanted to do with the spaces I’ve carved out, and whatever changes you see here are in keeping with those decisions.

I want a space where I can calmly and skillfully gather and develop insights and thoughts. In short, I want to try writing more polished pieces that intentionally depart from the come-what-may writing I’ve usually done here. It will be about the things I discover along the way.

Elsewhere, I continue the come-what-may work. Journaling is tremendously important. In the course of porting entries, I realized that if I had only remembered to write and read them more often, I wouldn’t repeat the same things (insights, resolutions, predicaments) and perhaps I would have convinced myself sooner of things I already knew. Let that mess proliferate elsewhere. Here I’ll try gather and fix the scraps.

Nothing in what I say is inherently valuable or worthy of attention, especially amid the billions of other sources of meaning and information. But perhaps something I say  can be of use and interest to someone out there. I’ve always liked the idea of my present self talking to my children in far future, they themselves around the same age as me now. It’s time-travel and the possibility of a brief moment of impossible kinship. This is here simply to allow for happenupons and stumbleupons.

 

 

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