Thursday, July 5, 2012

And then...

Reading leads to writing, and writing leads to more reading, and more writing, and then, more reading.
More curiosity, more fulfilment, more opportunity, more thoughts.
Through blogging, I've met (ok, sometimes only through an email here and there, or a thoughtful comment), some amazingly creative, insightful people who are not, (regrettably) part of my daily life-crew, but who exist, as I describe, in the 'constellation' of my life, there on the sidelines, on the ready.

I was emailing with my friend H. today, who I have (again, regrettably) met only once, for a pre-race lunch in mid-town TO. Her first message to me was through Facebook, she wound her way over to my blog from a mutual friend's sister, and it's title (which grabbed me immediately and still makes me smile) was something along the lines of "I'm not crazy I'm a friend of __________" (insert mutual friend's name here. I read her message and immediately knew two things:
1) that she was, indeed, not crazy
2) that I wanted to be her friend

Thankfully, I was right about these two things and here we are, emailing each other like champs, talking about everything and nothing (when I say "talking" I mean "writing") and somewhere along the way we both discovered running, then realized we loved it, and now here we are.

I love when that kind of thing happens.

I continue to trawl the web (is that the right word?) searching for inspiration, for people who write in ways I admire, for people who have quirks and know that quirks are sometimes the best part.
People who fall down, be it in life, in love, in family, without family, and admit it. People who are genuine about revealing their imperfect lives, people who get sad, and people who have this love, of writing, of reading, or who are just plain trying to understand it, the revolving-door lives we all so uniquely lead, on this revolving-door planet.

So yea, I'm still reading other blogs, and I'm still loving that.
I've learned some lessons, and one is that I don't like (and I never have) confrontation, and that I also don't like (and I never have) dishonesty, so I have stopped reading some of my previous favourite blogs. It feels right. I had a lesson to learn, and it was a bit prickly, but I learned it.

On that note, one of my continued quiet favourites (I say 'quiet' because it feels so safe and calm when I visit this blog, and I get lost in the dreamy, bright images of this talented New York-based writer) is:

And from her blog, I found this little one:

I don't mean little in a diminutive way.  I mean--simple, but powerful. I mean--velvet-hammer-ish.
I started reading entries, and one of the reasons I wanted to list it here is so I can remind myself to return to it. Like Julia's blog, I calm down when I go to this blog. That's a big thing for me. I am not a calm person (I'm working on it. Endlessly. I've been working on calm for over ten years. Seriously).
The author has not posted since March, but I return to check on it periodically so I can savour a new entry.  For now, I just haunt the archives.

I found ths blog:
on noodlesandberries sidebar (Julia Ipsa is there too, noodlesandberries has great taste).
I am just diving into the ivy league blog but I already stumbled upon (no I really did stumble, or was lead, to) a post on her late father. Late from cancer. I zero'ed in immediately. I got calm again (despite this blog being a bright, impressive site).  I like it here too.

A comment on ivy league, one I found insightful and extremely kind, led me to this blog, by a male blogger. I don't read enough blogs by men. Maybe men don't write as many. Maybe I just don't find them. Whatever, I really like this one. And his name's Mike. I trust the name Mike.

And this one, just adding now, as I receive an email notifying me about a new entry:
Love this one.

Okay so...that what the last few days have been about.
Me, writing and reading, and learning the lessons I need to learn, and not reading other things, and generally minding my own business here on this internet.
But I remain:
my curious self.

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