[A Moment to Breathe]
I’ve been quiet here.
After my post on online mourning—and an emotionally draining March—I needed a break from writing. For most of April, I’ve been reading and absorbing quietly, and getting frustrated over missed opportunities to post about a topic-du-jour. You should see the drafts I’ve written on nostalgia and authenticity over the past month! Gibberish, really. After brainstorming and organizing and compiling so much, I’ve waited too long. (I often feel I’m not built for Twitter; I’m just too slow. I muse on things for so long, making connections and polishing in my head, and the next thing I know people have moved on.)
After posting a few well-received pieces on Facebook at the end of 2011, I made a New Year’s resolution—my only resolution—to post tighter pieces, even if that meant posting less frequently. And that’s exactly what I did, and over the past five months I’ve written better stuff (I think) and built a wider readership. Many of you comment regularly and thoughtfully, so I wanted to take a moment to say thank you. Whether it’s the commentary on social media and the intersection of online/offline, or the photos from my adventures, or the musings on home and wanderlust that make you return, I’m glad you enjoy this blog. I’ll continue to write if you keep coming back.
In other news, I’ve hopped onto a project a friend is putting together, and I’ll talk more about it and share my work there when the site launches in May. I also have something else in the works, but I’m still figuring it out; I plan to use this blog to experiment and also to gauge your interest. I’ve begun to revisit themes from my MFA manuscript on the electronic dance music culture, and how that intersects with current preoccupations, from the physical-digital self and the Internet to nostalgia and consumerism. If you’ve recently started following this blog, I’ll take a moment to say that book was a challenge, and one I was not quite ready to undertake. It’s been five years since then, which isn’t a long time, but strangely enough of a lapse to make me see ideas from a fresh angle. To make me excited again.
Perspective is a wonderful thing.
And who knows: after diving into it a second time, I may pull my hair out and give up again. But time is interesting, isn’t it? I’m a different person from the Cheri I was five years ago. Recording nuances is valuable in itself.
I’ll try to post new pieces on intersections of dance and technology here, but to give you an idea of what I’ll explore, take a peek at a post I wrote for Cyborgology: “We Danced to Become Machines: On Techno, Dancing, and the Augmented Self.”
If you have comments, please leave them on Cyborgology, not here. Thank you!