Mar 31, 2017 my blogging voice
Soooo you may have noticed that my blog has been down…for almost a week… and if you didn’t notice then I guess you didn’t miss a thing! Because of this my blog has been on my mind a lot these past several days. I didn’t plan on being a blogger.
I was always a writer, but never in this format. I began doing it as a way to find myself after coming off a hard year. A pregnancy and postpartum that shook me a little. I was hurt. Derek told me to start writing; “I think it will heal you.” He was right. Writing makes me come alive.
I’ve always thought art compensates for loss; loss of emotion or of oneself. Art is used because the artist has the elements to control or make something out of what they are feeling. I think learned language is art.
When I first went to college I was an English major and my professor said something that has always been in the back of mind she said, “When ever a writer is vague it means they are hiding something.”
I don’t’ want to obscure my life. Dampen my feelings of hurt, joyfulness, or authenticity.
Words do no just tell us something they show us something and in that distance, between being shown and told, lives can be changed. We are all writers, readers, or communicators. We all have a learned language. We may dream in images but we discover in language.
This world that I will soon explore, the languages we will soon hear –their images- will show me what other cultures value. I can say I miss you in English but to say it in French, Tu me manques, I am saying you are missing from me. The meaning is different; sometimes it feels more vulnerable or more expressive.
I don’t know if I’ve found my voice as a blogger. All I can do is write for myself and if it emotionally connects with your life then we have, together, created relations as strangers. How beautiful is that? Empathy makes us more kindhearted loving humans and we can’t have empathy if we don’t feel that first bond. Benjamin Franklin once said, “If you don’t want to be forgotten, as soon as you are dead and decayed; either write things worth reading, or do things worth writing about.” I want my journals and posts to feel like it cost something to make. Like I’ve just shown you something about myself that makes you catch your breath. Loud enough that you hear yourself living. Because as I come alive I want you to feel alive too.