Photo by Maggie Witter Photography
As an avid sharer on Instagram I’ve found myself drawn to and missing blogging. I think part of this is the nostalgia is creates for me. In an exercise at a photography workshop I identified nostalgia as one of my top descriptors of the images I take, but it’s also a high value of mine. It is an emotion I revisit often finding it grounding and wistful all at once.
The exercise of writing, sharing, and documenting life on the web has been part of my existence since I began a LiveJournal as a senior in high school in 2005, so for a little over half of my life, and my entire adult life. From there, I moved to Typepad where I stayed blogging at Creole Wisdom (for you old timers) and then began my Instagram accounts (now I mostly just post to one) in 2012. The account I share to now I began in 2017 right around the time Seth and I started dating, and with the purpose of wanting to create some space between my business account (where I hoped to find clients) and real life, everyday posting. I think I really wanted to share photos of glasses of wine or whatever was my muse before having children.
As an old friend who I recently reconnected with said, “it feels like 2016 was yesterday and also a lifetime ago.” Amen. What a joy and gift to have a record, albeit of an imperfect woman like myself, sometimes putting my foot in my mouth, but always beginning again. These words are like boats let out to sea, always written for me as a form of self-expression nothing more or less. As an “influencer” (a term I don’t like but can’t articulate why), the criticisms can feel sharp at times, but I do believe come from a fair fear of having some sort of power that seems unearned. Even if it’s just to buy a certain nursing pillow or celebrate femininity.
Seth recently removed most of his web 2.0 accounts, the most recent being his Instagram. I’ve made a few real life connections with other mothers I’ve met among the community I’ve found there. I wonder and think of stepping away from that platform often, recognizing the ugliness that is prevalent there, while also holding onto the beauty, too. For now, I am staying, but the idea of and desire to revive longer form blogging intrigues and challenges me. Presently I’m sitting upstairs in our bed, working on this while I hear the beginnings of a marvelous April thunderstorm while nursing the end of a mild cold I hope is finished by Easter. Two out of my three are asleep and that feels pretty magnificent. I might go check on Cilla in a bit if I still hear her chatting, but for now I’m staying put under this cozy blanket soaking in the sounds of weather that makes both Seth and I smile.
The world whirls on in a manner I find greatly concerning as a mother, as a Christian, as a person grounded by ideas and values rooted in things that work and I suppose a little nostalgia, and so reviving this space feels about right. There’s space still, now at least, for countercultural voices that seem a little dim. Welcome, I’m so glad you’re here.
