Tuesday, November 13, 2012

falling off the blogosphere

prompted by G's plaintive call for new blogs to read over here, I feel I should explain why I have to all intents and purposes fallen off the blogosphere.

It's mostly about having my life so full that I haven't read other people's blogs, let alone updated my own. And then once you get past a certain point you become burdened by the obligation to update - what to tell, what to leave out and it all becomes too hard.

I was beating myself over the head for neglecting the blog when I did a quick reckoning and worked out that this year I have had the following events, in roughly chronological order
  • my first trip to Europe
  • my divorce
  • finishing my contract and taking leave without pay
  • applying to do post-graduate research
  • 2 weddings
  • 1 hysterectomy
  • formally starting my post graduate work
  • making a commissioned piece for Seth Apter's next book
  • organising a trip to Europe and our 3rd wedding
 So it's not that surprising that my energy has ebbed a bit - certainly my creativity has become almost dormant. I'm slowly working on a piece and am doing some desultory knitting but that's it really. My studio has been as neglected as my blog - it will correct itself as I find a new rhythm that fits studying and creating rather than working and creating.

In the meantime I will leave you with a happy snap of Barry, our resident axolotl.


DIAN said...

It is good to hear from you again. It is difficult to find time or enthusiasm at times.

Julie said...

No wonder your blog has gone by-the-by! What a year you've had! I don't tend to blog as much as I used to and I think that's quite natural. We all blog for different reasons and I have only ever viewed it as something I do to record my creative life and some of my personal stuff. If ever I have had a gap I find it hard to start again but I just ignore all the intervening stuff and just jump back in. Whereas I used to blog every day I may only blog 3 or 4 times a month now. Good to see you back.