When I first started blogging, I wanted a forum where I could “write and walk away” (to paraphrase mopsa and quote Natalie) … Complete anonymity brings a certain powerful confidence — the ability to say anything, and that’s what I wanted. It is far easier for me to be “outgoing” with strangers than people I know, and that’s always been the case. As with most bloggers, I wanted to vent.
But relatively shortly thereafter, as I realized this was really fun, and as I let more friends have the URL, I found myself censoring myself more and more. Not censoring me really, or masking who I am, but rather, selectively not writing about things that I do, or the way I feel about something — generally things that I know someone else will be likely to read and take issue with.
I hadn’t really thought about whether that censorship also entails more smoothing out or editing of my posts until I read mopsa’s post about her own ability to flounder, both in person and in blog.
I love when she says “life is accidental. This blog was an accident.”
I’d like to think I’m just as “smooth” in real life as I am in blog. That is to say, sometimes I am, and sometimes I’m not. It’s accidental, or coincidental. Human interaction isn’t really one of my stronger points, but I think I do have moments. Blogging is probably like that too. On the other hand, I also tend to be one of those people who likes to edit as I write, going back to the beginning of the paragraph or sentence over and over again before hitting submit. So maybe I’m not smooth at all in real life. Or maybe my editing screws up the smoothness just as often as it helps it. Or maybe this concept of “smooth” needs to be thought about and more clearly defined before it becomes entirely meaningless semantically.
I wanted to make the blog to poetry metaphor here, but instead I find myself thinking that blogging is more like improv theater. I’ve got a situation, the blog, and I’ve taken suggestions from the web, or other blogs I’ve read, or sometimes real life … and here I am, busy converting them to scenes of great hilarity, or sadness, or both.
I laughed, I cried, I blogged…
If the big S were here he’d say: “All the web’s a stage, and all bloggers merely players.”
“Always there remain portions of our heart into which no one is able to enter, invite them as we may.”
– Mary Dixon Thayer
It’s funny how most of us have different roles we play: as friend, child, parent, employee, boss…whatever. And in most cases the people that know us in that role get to know a specific side of us. Blogging is just another way to get to know me; and you won’t know the same things you know about me if I’m your boss, or if I’m your friend. I dunno…it’s funny how blogging allows many of those things to bleed into each other: my blog is read by family, friends, co-workers, which certainly affects what I feel like I can and cannot say. I need to think about this more, as I’m rambling and not making sense.
You feel you are creating a permanent record of a spontanious, true, metacognitivly personal performing art piece. It is a well crafted diary of a person who appreciates voyerism and plans for nostalgia.