Sometimes, you just need to strip everything down and start back over from nothing. Sometimes, you have to do that over and over again–so rather than being painful, you know that the ache you feel is actually growth. So it becomes familiar, welcome, rather than an unknown that sees running and screaming and ruination.
I wanted to write again. I needed to stop expecting myself to have my ultimate vision achieved before I could: if I’m doing it right, I’ll never finish that journey–so why would I expect myself to have found a destination before I can start? That’s pretty ridiculous. Anxiety is… pretty ridiculous.
So I decided to pare it all down to the most basic of things. The old blogposts are under “archive” and will slowly be moved over as I convert them to new accessibility standards, rewrite old thoughts and keep what was as part of the history, the mark of progress that comes as we discover and learn–as we become ourselves.
Though I’m starting to write again, I’m still finding “less permanent” and “less serious” formats to be far more accessible–you can see quite a bit of content on my instagram story of late, for example.
With that in mind, I’m starting a weekly newsletter Keep Abreast, that will be just as absurd and serious as I am, probably, and will just be me doing whatever it is I feel like. That might involve poetry, or photography, videos, commentary on news, links… whatever mood strikes that week, whatever I end up wanting to add to the mix when I go over my thoughts.
Sign up below if you’d like to join for the ride.
But I’m also ready to write, and wanting the website to be “done” and “ready” before I could was nothing more than self sabotage: anything worth doing is never done. Some of what are considered the greatest and most enigmatic masterpieces as those that were famous for never finished: The Mona Lisa. the Sagrada Familia. Stonehenge.
Maybe it’s just that as humans, we’re naturally drawn to the allure of something so good that it always deserved more, better. Refinement layered upon refinement layered upon refinement. Think of the smooth edge of an old wood bar: imbued with stale beer and stale-r cigarette smoke, “they haven’t let us smoke in here more than a decade past.” But the wood remembers, and it’s smooth as satin–just as cool to the touch.
Barbs only wear down with just that: repeated wear. Weathering. Eventual realization that those old rusted things weren’t really useful, after all.
What I’m saying is this: worthwhile things have innumerable starting points, ending points, in-between points that all overlap and interweave. This is another starting point: for me, for this website, for more than even that, as much as it is.
This website will always be under construction. So will I. It’s the work that lets you know it’s worth it.
It’s the work that’s what’s worth it.