From 2004 into 2013, I blogged—at times, almost incessantly. I not only blogged, but for a period of time, I became an evangelist of blogging, urging people to do it, too (only 1 or 2 people did so, but hey … like the monkey said when he peed in the ocean, every drop counts).
After a while, my posts became less about things I was doing and more about things I was seeing … in essence, a photography blog. I started walking in 2011, due to a minor health scare, and that, coupled with the rise of a better camera on my constantly-upgrading iPhone, made me realize how much I loved taking–and sharing–photos.
Around 2012, my blog became almost exclusively a photo blog, a chronicle of my walks and travels. And also that year, my work life took an unexpected turn when I took over our company website, which included its own blog. The fire in my belly for my personal blog went out, and I walked away from it. (It’s still out there in web space, because as we all know, the Internet is written in permanent ink. Click here to read it.)
Recently, I’ve gotten a little of that fire back (it normally occurs when I eat anything with a tomato-based sauce). And I realized I missed having a personal forum to show my photos, make my snide comments and reviews, and just generally grind an axe with the rest of the world. So here we are again … with one caveat: I felt the overwhelming urge to start over, a fresh start, as you will. I hate to ignore the 8+ years of content that already exists, especially since some of it doesn’t make me cringe (much). But I’m older now (I am officially at an age where I can say “I’m too old for this,” according to the New York Times), and hopefully just a tad more mellow. Your definition of “tad” may vary.
So let’s try this again. I think it may end up being largely a photo blog, but we’ll see. I do love to write. Oh, and yeah … there’s always this, from a writer I hugely admire:
…and there comes a time when that which I write must belong to me, has to be written alone and in silence, with no one looking over my shoulder, no one telling me a better way to write it. It doesn’t have to be great writing, it doesn’t even have to be terribly good. It just has to be mine. —Raymond Chandler
I hope you’ll join me as we start this journey … again.