the fallow season
Who needs perfect teeth when you have a bedazzled face? |
I’ve been thinking about living my life in public—something
I started doing accidentally as a result of being a writer, an all-too-willing
Facebook addict and someone who generally can’t shut up. As much as this blog
is not a diary (my actual diary sounds like the most boring therapy session in
the world), constantly documenting my life in any capacity has created a weird
obsession with presentation. It’s like I visit my blog or my Facebook page to
find out what I’m like. The places I need to visit are church, my friends’ houses,
my therapist’s office. Maybe some poetic mountain or freeway underpass (depending
what kind of poetry you’re into).
One of my New Year’s resolutions was to lurk and listen,
and I’ve been trying but often failing on many fronts. I need to stop trying to
tell myself the story of myself by telling others. In art and, well, farming,
there’s a harvest season and a fallow season. The Facebook/internet break is
becoming a regular phenomenon, so I know I’m not alone in craving some
fallowness. Constantly trying to sell peaches when the soil in my field is crying
out for a little Miracle-Gro is not doing anyone any favors.
I know, that’s really abstract. But I just wanted to say
adios until further notice. Which will probably be the next time I binge on a
TV show I really want to talk about. (Don’t get me started on RuPaul’s Drag Race. I mean, seriously, I’m
not going to start. But I heart Sharon Needles and Latrice Royale so much that
I may devote my whole blog hiatus to sewing poodle boots and pasting
rhinestones on my eyelids.)
Comments
I've been keeping things closer to the vest for various reasons the past year or two. Some of that will be changing in a month or two which I'm excited about.
Perhaps I've just been making everyone suffer through my fallow period. ;)
In any case, I fully support living your life off the blog/net. More power to you!