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January 05, 2012


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I like you, Heidi. Felted stuff is a window into your creative soul. Your cats are adorable and lovely, and you can tell a lot about a gal by the company she keeps. Vegan Is an admirable lifestyle and health choice that shows you are taking control. Your thoughts? They reveal a different, human side. It tells me that you are more than a "personality".... You are a person.

The beauty is, your blog is your blog. It's your story and no one else can edit, produce, direct or change the way you want to tell your story. Personally I am tired of the "scrubbed" blogs but it won't stop me from reading some. I value the authenticity, honesty, and diversity of your blogs and others like it.


Sarah S

Such an interesting post! I think people blog for different reasons. Some people use it as a real life personal journal with all of the good and bad bits left in. And I tend to give those with 'perfect' blog lives a pass, because it may just be that their blog is a space where they focus on the positive to help them deal with the nasty parts reality. What comes across in some blogs, however, is a lack of authenticity. And that is almost unbearable. For me, I know that I am blogging for myself. It may not be everyone's cup of tea all of the time, and I'm OK with that! :)


Why be superficial so people will follow the blog? It won't make you happy in the end to write like that, and if they want fantasy, they can read a book. Go big or go home.


I think I know what you mean, Heidi. I've struggled with this for a while now. It seems like my blog started out pretty honest and authentic (when nobody was reading it) and over time, I've felt pressured to censor more and more, mostly due to family sensibilities. I got into trouble last year (hurt somebody's feelings) because I posted what I thought was a fairly innocuous comment about a step-family related thing that annoyed me. A relative on the kids' side saw the post and shared it with everybody. I then realized that there are people reading my blog who I didn't think would ever read it - a very unintended audience. And although I was adamant at the time that I would not be censored and would not be told what I can and can't post on my blog, and I've tried not to let it affect my posts, the reality is that it does: It hasn't been quite the same since that incident.

But even without this kind of drama, what people see of me in my blog is only a mirror within a mirror within a mirror of a tiny piece of myself. There are things that we can never blog about publicly; there's a subtext beneath every word we utter. But I like to read blogs that are as honest as possible within these practical confines, and I admire those who are able to give us that glimpse into a very real life. Which is why I keep coming back to your blog.


I can't stand reading about the woman who homeschools her kids, I think there are 8 now, and everything always seems so dreamy. Right, like those 8 kids never fight, she never thinks WHAT HAVE I DONE...I mean really. I don't read it anymore.

But then I think we all create our own reality. Maybe she doesn't write about the other stuff because she just can't stand it. Who knows. Her deal, I just choose not to read it anymore.

But I think blogs (the one's not out to make a buck) are places for you to share your personal (or professional) stuff. Journals with bits of info you want to share. Sometimes they are big bits and sometimes they are tid bits.

I miss my blog, haven't written a post in months. But I've got other things to sort and I've actually started journaling (not on line - handwriting and drawing are where it's at for me right now) to get back in touch.

I think the blog should be an extension of you. Be true to your blog and your blog will be true to you. (Taken from my alma mater - but it was work, not blog - but same concept.)


Ah. To add more to the conversation. Your comments up there are interesting. First, let me point out that they are very much like the ones I get - real responses, conversation - as opposed to the thirty-five thousand one famous "I'm so clever" blogger gets, comprised of one line "That's amazing - please like me too" responses. Real people are really reading you.

I had to laugh about the sweater people. I get lots of hits (I read my stat counter logs - how pitiful is that? Well, it's not pitiful - I just can't get over finding out that someone in Bangladesh was reading me -), people who only want to see my felt stars. Oh, they love those felted flowery things I make. But they are deeply NOT interested in my philosophy or politics. And that's okay. Funny, but okay.

In the end, I have probably thirty people who read me off and on, and maybe eight who will talk back to me fairly regularly. I consider these to be relationships of substance, and often, the conversation gets more personal in email follow-ups.

The basic question at some point always comes back to: why do we write in the first place? And the answers are never simple. You could say, because my life has value and I think that maybe I can lend strength/comfort/ideas/direction/inspiration (if only reactive horror)/fellowship to somebody else. You could also say, as I say often, "I don't know what I'm thinking until I hear myself saying it out loud."

But that is the question that has to be honestly answered, I think, before we get close to the question you are posing here. The shiny mommy blogs have their place. The political blogs have their place. I think I think of my blog as just a sort of neighborhood-chatting-over-the-back-fence-because-I-love-my-friends-and-it's cool to find kindred spirits kind of thing.

I don't think the presentation of a "perfect" self helps anybody.

I don't think the presentation of the angry wounded self - life totally filtered through bitterness helps anybody.

But I think that thoughtful examination of the realities of life - trying to learn from them - trying to find the significance of things and so giving ourselves tools to deal with stuff and to grow, and to (ultimately) be able to rejoice and dance and be grateful - I think that is going to help everybody who becomes aware of it.

I liked you because the dogs showed me something about you - about your heart, your sense of humor, your sense of proportion and whimsy. They invited me to scroll up and down, and then I liked your voice. We are different in some of the ways we approach life and its purpose, but what you say has significance for me, makes me think and weigh myself and my own views. That's an excellent thing. You are vegan for the nonce. I am definitely a carnivore. But we have plenty to pass back and forth in the way of thought and mutual support.

Is this not the value of blogging at all?

And sometimes there are realities we don't spill because those things are simply nobody else's damn business. Oh - I have to laugh. This reminded me of those old days: the guy walks up and says, "What are you doing Friday night?" Are you obligated to answer full disclosure? Or are you allowed simply to say the kind equivalent of, "Not going out with you."

Which one would be honest? Which are you obligated by the laws of the universe to give? Neither, really. You owe him nothing. Certainly not information he hasn't proved himself worthy of owning.

So that's part of it, too.

Now I'm going to get off this couch and pretend to be in perfect health - get on that treadmill and see if I can kill a few viruses by breathing heavy.

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