That’s a fair question. I don’t think anyone’s asked me actually, but I think about it pretty often.
Sometimes I write because I just want to share some cool photos and just can’t help but chatter a little in between. Just goofing around in our quiet little blog.
Other times I write because I just really need it.
The thing is, there are a lot of things that have happened, and continue to happen, that make me feel sad, sickened. So angry and afraid and angry again.
I’ve read a lot of blogs, and even followed some so closely that I would read every post the day it went up. I’ve felt close to these blog writers who I’ve never met. And I’ve wondered at their chipper posts with no acknowledgement of a terrible thing that had just happened.
I think I get it now, though.
I’ve known beautiful things in this world. The beautiful things can’t simply cover up the disgusting and the horrible, and I believe it would be deeply wrong to live a life pretending they could.
But, at least for me, it’s easy to let the opposite happen. To not realize how far the tide has dragged me out until I’m in the deep. And writing is an accelerant, speeding up the direction my thoughts take me.
So sometimes I write this blog to remind myself of good things, to set this direction with purpose. To look back through photos from days or years ago and remember how it felt when I was standing on that mountain with the wind swirling my hair around my face, or walking into a forest clearing to feel a beam of sunshine sink into my skin.
Something I’ve learned about myself is that when I journal — you know, like all us 90s kids did — I get weirdly dramatic. But when I write to share with others, I look for what’s special and bright, I feel like I’m having something more like a conversation (long-winded on my side).
And now, some indisputable wisdom from Bill Watterson: