collections and reflections

{Collections and Reflections...}

Seashells and painted stones line our windowsills, decorating chipped paint and smudged panes. Touchstones of quiet, reminders of waves and creativity... 

I've been thinking about how I used to write so much, online. About how blogging has changed, and I wonder if that's good or bad, or it just is. I'm reserving my words for the novel I'm working on, and focusing my energy there... but with that comes space from here, and the longer I go between posts the harder it is to write them. When I was writing daily on the blog, years ago, it became a habit. And words flowed more freely, and I didn't think so much before I wrote. 

Now I'm stuck in my head when it comes to sharing my writing here. I share bits and bobbles on Instagram, and they fill the space for writing publicly... for the most part. But there's still a longing for wide open spaces that blog posts offer. So I don't know. Stuck in my head. I think about all of the people who wrote the blogs I connected with years ago, and so many of them just stopped writing. Stopped putting things out there, stopped connecting in this vulnerable way. 

And that's the thing, when you're out of the practice of being vulnerable in a certain way, it takes a long time to get back there. To say, here I am. This is my offering. I don't care what you think, I'm here. 

Because sometimes we really do care what people think, regardless of how much we know their opinions of us don't truly matter. 

Maybe that's what this post is today, me dipping my toes into vulnerability once again. I'm here. Showing up. Trying once again to make a habit of connecting, opening up, spilling over and getting uncomfortable. What else is the point of blogging, anyway? 


  1. I am glad you're here and am grateful for all of your offerings, of any color, size, or shape. I'm not sure what the point of blogging is, to be honest, but I do know the practice has changed my life. oxoxox

  2. I echo Lindsey's comment. I hope you will continue in some fashion, especially since I was not familiar with you back in "those days" and so I missed out on quite a bit. Maybe just a once in a while practice is sufficient? But I know what you mean about holding back when you're working on other projects too, because I find myself doing it. And yet I cannot completely let go either. I think breaks, long pauses, and even final goodbyes are good, but if something is making you hold on, maybe you need to listen to that too.

  3. I nodded my head for every word you wrote. That vulnerability thing is huge. And it's the big thought that "I've been gone so long who wants to still listen to me?" or the "I don't have anything to write about today." How come that has changed? Just a few months ago I posted every day of the week. Maybe because there is a shift happening inside of me and that isn't leaving room for blogging? Even though I want to? I'm not sure! Lots to think about though! <3 And I love reading your posts whether they are every day or every once in awhile!!

  4. Life changes and evolves and sometimes what once filled your soul doesn't as much. I say write when you feel like writing, and write what you want to write about. And maybe the novel is where you feel like investing your emotions for now and maybe later you'll hop back to a blog. I like instagram because of the instant ness. I like my blog because I can share more. As of yet, there is no novel in my personal life....yet....Also I don't think you need to choose one over the other necessarily.

  5. oh man, me too, all that. sometimes i think i'm too pared down to spinout in blog form, conserving my thoughts/preserving myself for something down the line. maybe the 'practice' should be seen more as that, a part and ritual of the day. ? ah. keep writing.

  6. I do miss it. I guess I got tired of my own voice. I sometimes "write" a little bit in my head and then mentally erase it because I think it sounds pretentious or redundant - like blue on black (right, Kenny?) - just noise.


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