I think y'all know how I love grafitti. And color. Aren't feeling so in love? Maybe you just need to pick a wall to write on. Isn't love an act of declaration?
I'm also loving this skivvies tutorial. And these free numerology reports. She's pretty right on. I've entered info for 6 loved ones, & we're having quite the parlor conversation over it all. Go on, try it!
It's always funny to walk around believing ourselves to be self-made, only to be reminded of how much we were actually given. To find again that we are just a bit of some crazy giant picture. But that's why I blog at this point. To be small, one of the gajillions of bloggers out there. It feels good to have these full, complex lives, then to distill it into some little random moment that we happened to have shot on film. Making it even smaller. It's a personalized version of what I do all day, walking through the woods looking for salamanders, Indian Peace Pipes or bits of mica. I'm scanning through massive amounts of visual input, looking for something interesting, usually tiny, some little piece of life that's gone unnoticed, some temporary treasure.
One of my favorite tricks as a kid was to announce, "I'm going to show you something that no one's ever seen before, & no one's ever going to see again!" And then to produce a peanut shell, which I would crack open before promptly eating the peanut. I found it in a library book & thought it tremendously clever in it's truthfullness. That is the nature of blogging, to reveal some unseen, probably frivolous, sure-to-be-missed moments. Something about catching that beauty is so interesting to me, like a response to the miracle-purity-sadness-mystery of every unique snowflake that melts, never to be known. There's so much out there that I'll never see, & I appreciate all the bloggers that give me glimpses into what they've found to be beautiful & interesting.
Molly gave a little review of Julie & Julia that made me laugh. I didn't know it featured a blogger, but I love thinking of her crying at the screen to Avery's dismay, so moved by the familiar portrayal of these two women's lives. Molly's a fiercely authentic writer, powerful in her willingness to be public. It's a strange thing to write from your life, sharing 1/10,000th of your day, but to be perfectly aware it looks like you are sharing about your actual life. I think often about stopping this blog, but blogging families have made a big difference for me. They talk about what works in their homes, what doesn't, their mistakes. We don't parent as a village in this life, & yet it's somehow possible for me to get curriculum ideas from a homesteader in rural Australia. It's only right to reciprocate. The friendships I've made here & the feedback I get about sharing our choices has me keep sharing, albeit tentatively, while I explore this balance between my love of privacy & my belief in the contribution it is to be transparent. Once again, the truth is somewhere in the middle...