I was dubious about beginning a blog for many reasons, even wondering to myself why I could desire "strangers" to read what I'd written (which is a rather odd thing to think, I see, since most of us are [and will always be] strangers to one another, and, ahem, that's what writers do). But then I felt a certain purpose in writing here that turned the key, and the door has, so far, felt good being open, especially when some truth actually sifts through and miraculously appears on top of the dross.
And so I was surprised at my reaction this morning to finding that a blog I was following had been unexpectedly closed. No note. Nothing. Gone. This little window into someone's soul, shut. I miss her already. She played guitar, sang in the loveliest low voice, posted her artwork, and generally inspired many, I'm sure. Where has she gone? Is she okay? art-teri.blogspot.com.
I'm not an obsessive blog-checker, but I do have a bit of a ritual in the early mornings, usually, or sometimes late evenings, depending on what's happening in my life. The relationships we form with people via this machine are mostly shards of our larger selves, pieces we chip away and post here to offer others, by chance to do some good. When our computer was in the shop recently, I have to admit that I missed this a bit. In the computer's absence, I felt a certain airiness, a freedom that I also feel because we have no television connection, no way to get lazy and sit in front of the tube. Now I realize that if I ever do disconnect from the computer, too, I'll want to leave a note to say why. . .
