Of course, just as it is with every motivated thing in life, there are reasons to blog. And there are reasons not to blog. And then there is just plain old non-reason. Not in a do-not-care kind of way, but rather in a just-not way.
Blogging is writing in a way that puts words out on a fluttering flag of sorts; a piece of fabric flaps in the wind, tied to a fickle post, without the guarantee that it will stay there, but in the meanwhile holding on for dear life. At some point it always tugs just beyond that sane disposition that we give it due. The force of pull and stay and the fight with wind and calm is an orchestra that brings both life and wear and tear to a simple piece of cloth, with strangely painted war art that gives it just a small token of belonging. Why? Because in symbols we find meaning and closeness. And a sense that this is home, in all its dreary plainness. And in all its wonder, too, of course.
I think that blogging is far more forgiving than the world of print media will ever be, and I think that short sentences are like drops of lemon on honey, made for flu-ish days. And I also think that grammatical errors are little rebellions from the artists creative pen. And of course, finally, long windy sentences are like taking a road trip and discovering oh-so-many wonderful things.
The scenic route is misunderstood. We should take more of them :)
Here's to loving being at home and here's to traveling to incredible new places and also to those long sentences that transport us between them. I missed them.
1 hour ago