Yellow Flowers, Canon EOS
I’m new to this whole blogging thing. I’ve been a closet blogger for years, a shadow blogger if you will, visiting other people’s journals each day, wishing I had my own, dreaming of my new life as “blogger girl,” and also wondering what the heck I would even say.
I took a writing class led by Laurie Wagner to begin exercising my writing muscle. It helped. I felt my confidence growing, my imagination stretching, and my hand moving more gracefully. I was getting in shape for my big day. The day I would have my very own web log.
Well, the day finally came. And like most big days, they aren’t always what you expect. Sasha built me this exquisite page, sifted through the tool movabletype and finally emailed me and said, “Blog away!”
And then I sat for the entire weekend (it was gorgeous and sunny outside) staring at my computer screen, with nothing to say, thinking I had already failed in advance because I wasn’t really a writer and what I was doing this for anyway?
During one of these mind numbing stare-a-thons with my computer, my friend Susan called and I admitted that I had created this journal and what was I even going to write about? and would anyone even read it? and how much do I actually want to share? and will my parents be reading this?
“I just have no idea what to say,” I told her.
She told me to start there, to write about the not knowing. And so I am.
I have nothing to say on my web log.
Yet.
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