You can create your own profile on Medium and Hi and Exposure, on which you present yourself, compile your work, and become part of a network of ideas and topics and collections and moments. But there’s an element of renting out space on these platforms, and I’m reminded of the loft my husband and I just moved out of — one unit within a huge, impersonal condo complex — and our quest to create the exact home we want.
As I sit in my loft and stare at empty shelves, bare walls, and more boxes, I think about these things. How I’ve been tied to them for so long. How they’ve followed me from home to home. How I’ve considered them valuable. And I don’t know why.
How raw and honest can the writing in this journal be, then, when I’m already editing for public consumption? If I’m always looking outward, and now view writing and publishing as the same thing?
My favorite kind of “travel writing” — or I suppose writing about place — embarks on an inner journey, and uses a physical location as a diving board into one’s depths, into their mind.
I’ve been wondering what to do with this blog, and I’m leaning toward creating a static front page, pointing to category collections and posts I’m proud of — and moving away from the blog format completely. Preserving the best moments of me, with my posts acting like exhibits in a museum.
Since I was too busy this year reading everyone else’s posts — rather than writing my own — I thought to share some of my favorite reads, publications, and blogs I’ve enjoyed this year.