hi, fine people! i hope you all had a lovely weekend and that your joys have been fulfilled to their utmost reaches in the highest of places you can imagine. (a rather lofty goal from me to you, but there you go.)
you may have noticed i’ve been posting kind of sporadically around here. i’ve been struggling a little bit with this blog. as in, what to write about. as in, i know that a whole lot of people are stumbling upon my blog because they’re trying to find out what to wear to a wheel of fortune audition. a lot of people are interested in my knitting projects. i do get amused/ confused/ disturbed sometimes by the google searches which bring folks my way: “things to do alone in bed” (which i don’t believe i’ve given much advice on, though i suppose i could speak to that…) // “cats in the boiling water” (??) // “jury duty stripper,” yes.
all of that is fine. i write here about thrifting, objects, making, but that is only a scratch on the surface of my life, and, full disclosure: i’d feel like a chump (and a hoarder) posting pictures of all of the embroidered vintage hankies i buy at estate sales. also, i probably only blog about one out of five things i make, because oh, wow, she painted the frame on her mirror. good god, another present for her cat!? ho hum. what could be more interesting could be…so many other things.
this blog has been a decent platform for writing, though, & i don’t make time for writing except when it comes to this space. but really, i want/ need to write more about what it’s like to advocate for someone with alcoholic dementia from 3000 miles away, how complicated & lonely it can be, all of the feelings it stirs up, slogging through the painful parts of childhood, wanting it to be all over and yet, not.
i want to write more about unfolding into womanhood, about finding one’s power during times of loss. how to care for one’s vagina in the literal and figurative ways that one might. i want to write about how to listen to one’s gut know when the guy you think you’re dating is actually living with someone else and, incidentally, happens to have a shoe fetish, clogs to be specific, in which you have played a role, unsuspecting. also: the challenges of deepening into partnership, even with someone who doesn’t fetishize inanimate objects.
i guess i’d like to write about things my grandmother would find shocking, but which, in actuality, are not shocking, are just a part of being human, how it is.
in my daily life, women tell me their secrets. they pay me for this. they tell me things they maybe have never told anyone else ever. they have never seen me before and they will likely never see me after, but on one day, a hard day, they open up their heart and sit with me, and talk, and i hold their hearts and listen. listening to women’s secrets over time brings out some universal elements of the feminine experience… and yet, nearly universally, women feel alone when it comes to certain aspects of their personhood. it brings me great joy and meaning for my own life, when i tell them they are not alone, and i see their whole posture shift, their eyes widen in disbelief, relief welling its way in to tears.
these are things i think about and care about. i don’t know why i’m telling you all of this, except sometimes i feel funny about the fact that a full year ago i started this blog and of course i have had an experience with it, lots of learning… and yet, i have not written much about the experience of blogging, directions, intentions, etcetera. i suppose i am still figuring all of that out. i hope to keep writing here, and i hope to write about things that i care about, and that you care about. even if it’s doilies and sweaters one day and then something heavy and strange the next.
anyway. i hope you feel invited to be here, because you are. thanks for sticking it out a whole year. thanks for speaking up when you do, for cheering me along, for caring about my words and who i am.