I’ve spend too much time today inside. I’m typing these words here in my office at school: I just spent the last few hours working on Moby-Dick, the dissertation that won’t die. I’m revising a chapter on seashores–Thoreau’s & Beston’s Cape Cod, Annie Dillard’s Puget Sound–but as I revise these words I’m facing a wall far from the ocean here in Keene, NH.
I can’t even see the window from where I sit; it’s just before 4 pm, so when I turn my head to look out the window, I see oblique slants of setting sun. It’s clear and cold today; this morning I took the dog for a long walk. But that walk felt more like an errand than a true ramble: we went to the video store to return DVDs, the library to return a book, and the bagel shop to pick up croissants and bread. My mind was on my to-do list more than on the world around me in its crystal clarity.
And so now I’ll post these thoughts then walk home. What’s the point, I eternally ask. I’ve always asked that in my handwritten notebook: why scribble words in notebooks that no one will ever see? Now that I’m “scribbling” here online, though, the question remains: what’s the point? In fact, writing in a medium that others can see seems (at least right now) even more absurd than keeping a private journal. With a private journal, there’s the excuse of therapy: “I’m writing this to make sense of my own thoughts.” With a public blog, there’s the absurdity of egotism & its delusions of grandeur: “Somehow, I think that other people CARE that I’m facing a wall with a huge Lord of the Rings movie poster–not mine–while I type this!”
So, I still haven’t sorted out the “why’s” of blogging yet, and I suppose it will take a while: why am I writing this, and why in the name of God would anyone want to read it? But remaining true to the advice I give my writing students–all of them, semester after semester–I’m seeking clarity through writing. Instead of sitting here THINKING about why I should write, I’m sitting here WRITING about why I should write. Instead of worrying about the futility of it all, I’m tap tap tapping at my keyboard.
In the meantime while I try to figure it all out, I try to ground myself (again, again, and again!) in the present moment: right now, shadows from that setting sun–streaky grey tree limbs–trace the gold-illuminated facade of Fisk Hall. On my walk home, I will face east, with my back toward the sunset; if this night is like other recent ones, however, even the eastern sky might be diffused with a pinkish hue, a broadening blush. But from here, from this office with its damn wall, I can’t tell. Only after I’ve left to go home will I see for sure.
Jan 12, 2004 at 5:52 pm
So you took the plunge!
Congratulations; life will never be the same again
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Jan 12, 2004 at 5:53 pm
Well, you said you were gonna blog, inevitably, someday. And here you are!
I started on blogspot. Quick, easy and the price is right.
Welcome to the blogosphere. Join the rest of us who wonder what it is we are doing but cannot imagine not doing it.
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Jan 12, 2004 at 5:54 pm
Well, you will find out that readers actually DO care what’s in those notebooks! Congratulations and welcome, Lorianne.
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Jan 12, 2004 at 5:55 pm
Ditto all the above, and welcome. The one thing I think I can say with certainty is that most people think they’re going to write about something on their blog and it invariably ends up being a lot more about something else. The form is more organic that it appears. Have fun, let go, and let it fly! (No, it’s not the same as a pen, but I don’t think it’s supposed to be.)
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Jan 12, 2004 at 5:56 pm
You don’t know why you’re writing – and I wonder why I’m reading. But something good is here, in blogs, I think.
For readers, it’s a way to know people that we probably would never meet in the “offline” world – people who are literate and reflective enough to write – to know some of their daily thoughts and experiences in the way friends and family know each other. A way to get inside people’s minds instantly.
Ah, the Internet: casual remover of barriers of geography, time, class, race, age.
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Jan 12, 2004 at 5:57 pm
Hey! Great to see so many comments here! Not only do I feel that “welcome to the neighborhood” warm-fuzziness, I’m thrilled to pieces that I actually figured out how to get this comment thing to work!
It seems that none of us know what we’re doing or why, and I guess I’m getting more comfortable with that not-knowing. As for me, I’ve never let ignorance stop me from opening my mouth, so I guess that carries over here, too!
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