This post is for all of the creatives out there who are waiting for their breakthrough. Their epiphany. Their magnum opus.
If you've been following this blog for the past couple of years of its existence, then you may have noticed it's slowly been evolving and changing. A lot of bloggers (myself included) start word vomiting for the public for a few reasons: because we want to stop creating art in a bubble and allow our endeavors to finally be seen and heard, and/or because there's a subject that we're passionate about, whether it's food, fitness, sci fi, or in my case, all of the above. But what we're passionate about and what we write about, I've learned, are not always neat equations. Writing can reveal the things that we really want to talk about, not the things we think we want to talk about. My brain was playing tricks on me, but I couldn't see them on the screen in front of me.
I wasn't as passionate about the things I was "supposed to" be passionate about. There was something more urgent. My blog wasn't the end product; I was. I had thought that blogging was a reflection of who I am, but I'm starting to think it's the other way around. The act of creating is a two-way mirror. Other voices and ideas are looking in and all we see is ourselves. We can't see or hear anyone else until they walk into the room and show themselves.
In my case, this happened when someone made one simple, innocuous comment: I like your blog. I don't know what it's actually about, but I like it. My worst fear had walked in and shut the door. I felt cornered by an insecurity I hadn't wanted to confront: I was directionless.
I've spent nearly two years using this blog as a platform to find direction. I set out to answer one simple question: what do I love writing about so much that it gets me excited to post? From there, I arrived at some more unsettling questions that I didn't know how to answer at first: What are the things I know that other people actually want to hear about? Why should people give a shit about an insecure thirty-something's musings?
I assumed that the answers to these questions would hit me in a grand epiphany at 3am and I'd run to my notebook to scribble down the key to my creative brilliance. But, as many artistic types already know, inspiration only works like that maybe 10% of the time. I spent many hours sitting in front of a blank notepad and well, just thinking intensely. My pen hovered above a blank page, or alternatively, i scribbled nonsense ranging from "start a corgi colony" to "write beat poetry about my love of peanut butter." I racked my brain in the hopes that any idea at all of where this blog was going would come to me like a soulmate in a dark bar and wink at me, and I'd suddenly "know." This was it.
Instead, the ideas came to me over a long, long period of time. Intense research happened. Doubt took root, and this doubt was how I knew whether or not an idea was worth exploring. With each new idea, I grow more skeptical, and I think this is a good thing. It means that I'm taking it seriously. The one thing that all of my ideas have in common is that they were born from this adage: if it doesn't exist, create it.
Distractions came and went, but certain ideas persisted. The ideas that I was massaging could maybe, just maybe stand the test of time. They could dig deeper beneath the surface than I've ever dared to go before.
This blog is about to become what I think it was destined to be. I try not to believe in destiny, but it helps me conceptualize how it took so long to get here, how each iteration of my blogging self has gotten me a step closer to the person I want to become and the things I can show the world.
So, you may notice the blog shifting a little bit at a time. Don't mind the little shifts as pages are renamed and some old pages omitted entirely. The end product will be, I hope, new and exciting and something that hasn't been done in quite this way before.
As far as I know, it doesn't exist. So I'm creating it. It might take a while, but stay tuned.