How do you feel about blogging?
On days when I feel quite invisible, even to myself, I have, in the past, found something salvational in my archives; a confirmation, a reassurance of my existence as artist. Surrounded by the evidence of my work I then find inspiration and the need to say more and other.
For a year now the blog has been adding to my archive; or has it? It doesn't feel like it works in quite the same way. I'm wondering how other creatives feel about their blogs... When I exhibit artworks, perform or publish words, I still feel they are mine and a resource open to reinterpretation in other contexts.
Why don't blogged words feel the same? Why is revisiting them not the same experience? And why does that feel appropriate right now and maybe even empowering?
Rumplestiltskin was a truth
that, revealed, lost it's power.
What I create is the truth
about me. It may not be
more than the truth at the time,
but then gathering time
my catwalk words will draw
a bigger picture; outline
my invisibility,
fill details to the image.
And the image will speak
the volumes left unspoken;
the slow, steady cradle
will layer the reveal.
These are the secrets I keep
from myself, for myself. But
are the catwalk words cast
like confetti to end in the
gutter? The images passed
like so much litter? Are they
still mine to add or to edit?
I'm here for the journey and
something is changing, but
who changes who, and why?