The thin vertical bar.
It’s intimidating. For a while now I’ve had this Evernote titled ‘First post’. I would open it, read the title, and just watch the cursor flicker; challenging me to write something.
What is the first thing you say to the world? Or, maybe more accurate, my immediate family members and maybe a few friends who are interested in spelling and grammatical errors.
Actually, let me take a step back. Why would I want to start a blog in the first place? Why would I want to etch my thoughts into the harsh terrain of the no-holds-barred webscape(Should I have went with “Netscape”? Twenty years ago that would have killed.)? To say, these are my ideas everyone, please be kind.
I mean we all know the Internet has about as much forgiveness as eighth graders do for a fashionably awkward substitute teacher. I feel like I’m stepping into a classroom wearing my pleated high water jeans(it’s casual Friday), a short-sleeved dress shirt, bolo tie, and a mullet that is quite frankly, the bee’s knees, hoping that the eighth graders of the Internet won’t verbally pulverize my self-esteem before I can skip lunch to silently cry in a restroom stall.
But I thought the bolo tie was casual AND dressy.
And why did they bring my mom into this?
*blows nose into the only toilet paper square I can find
So why do it?
To be honest, I want to do it for me. I enjoy creating. I enjoy making film and music and stories and laughter and excitement. I like making stuff. I want my kids to see me making stuff. I want a place to put said stuff. A place to keep my thoughts and experiences on making stuff. A place at the very least I can reference to remind myself that making stuff is not always easy. That this is what I believe about creativity. That it’s possible to bring a thought into existence. To look at posts like this and say, see, I’ve done it before, maybe I can do it again. To create motivation and accountability to DO.
I also think there are many others in a similar boat. People that want to make stuff. People with creativity that may be buried under the machine of life. People that wish they had time to paint, sing, write, sculpt; to create new business models, stronger community, engaging environments, financial strategies, you name it. I believe we all have a desire to bring an idea into fruition, and many of us are. I’m never more inspired to create than when I see someone else creating. Regardless of if I like it or not I usually think:
Wow, good for them. They made something. I want to make something.
I think we can help each other unearth our inner makers. I want to know what you are creating. That will push me to create which hopefully will push you back. Seriously, leave links or descriptions in the comments section or email me—or just tell me at lunch family members. It’s not bragging. It’s encouraging. It’s helpful to us all.
Because many times it’s just staring at the blinking cursor of a blank canvas, unplayed instrument, block of clay, notepad, or backlit screen of varying resolution. It pulses away with all the time in the world. It’s got no where to go. But we do. We have places to go, things to do.
One thing I’m doing is this blog. I’ve decided to challenge the cursor. To chase it down leaving a trail of words in my wake. My only hope is that the trail is at least halfway intelligible. Writing in this sense is new for me. I have no disillusions about it being a journey. So bear with me as I try to find my voice. I have no doubt it will have it’s share of throat clearing, cracks, and squeaks. You know…like an eighth grader.