Pretty good Bob Dylan song from a favorite album of mine, "New Morning." Right? (Now if I were properly "monetized," that link would have been inserted automatically.)
I seem to have run aground, or run out of gas, or run out of ideas ... something. I open my mouth to blog and nothing comes out.
Blogging well depends on being able to slice a cross-section down through your own consciousness at an artful slant that encompasses a bit of the outside world, an intermediate zone of opinion and observation where you meet and mix with the world, and a glimpse of your own inner life. The proportion of each of these three depends on your choice of the angle at which you cut your daily slice of self/world, but some of each is usually present, and it's getting to see all three layers, and the root systems that interconnect them, that makes blogging engaging.
I've lost my angle, is how it feels. The public and private are not connecting for me. Nothing out there is grabbing me (certainly not politics), and nothing in here has the energy to reach out and grab anything. You really don't want to hear about my sore knees, my dysfunctional relationship to money, the malaise occasioned by my New York landlord's efforts to take away my two rent-regulated studios (if he succeeds, I'll never live in the city again; is it time to let go?), or how writing other people's thoughts drains me like Dracula, leaving me empty and aimless. It's all a bunch of myopic whining. Some other blogger might make it all amusing. Not me, not now. I'm actually falling asleep between sentences here, boring myself unconscious.
So why not take a break? Why keep on blogging? There's only one reason: it's a way to keep in touch with my friends. You. It's basically down to postcards. Wish you were here.
Maybe I'll shut up and just post pictures. (I'm almost there now.) Maybe I'll try to post links and quotes just provocative enough to trigger great discussions, like those that are ongoing here. I'm not going away, but be warned, I'm not going to be good for much.
UPDATE: Wow. I have a lot of company. Going down my blogroll looking for inspiration, three of the first blogs I happen to alight on -- BeBeRe, Bull Moose, and Camassia -- are all on indefinite hiatus.
I don't know, annie .... that was pretty damn good. BTW, how are your knees?
Posted by: GN | March 29, 2007 at 08:33 PM
LOL. They hurt! The left one is swollen and feels full of fluid. (More details?) Went to the dojo last night. It's just hell on 60-yr-old knees.
Posted by: amba | March 29, 2007 at 08:39 PM
How many 60 yr-olds go to a dojo? Not enough to keep you from being unique, for sure .... you will tank for a couple of days and then something will a) irritate you b) intrigue you c) pique your curiosity and you will be back with all cylinders firing in the proper order and purring down the blogway like the old SHO ... and we will be right behind you trying to keep up. Whine less, breathe more ;)
Posted by: GN | March 29, 2007 at 09:09 PM
reach out and grab anything. You really don't want to hear about my sore knees, my dysfunctional relationship to money, the malaise occasioned by my New York landlord's efforts to take away my two rent-regulated studios (if he succeeds, I'll never live in the city again; is it time to let go?), or how writing other people's thoughts drains me like Dracula, leaving me empty and aimless.
Sez you.
Posted by: Charlie (Colorado) | March 29, 2007 at 10:07 PM
It is an interesting thing, writing.
All human beings that are worthy of attention function the same way. They are like a pail of water overturned. At first, the water rushes everywhere in a splash; then smoothly runs across the floor; then dissolves into little trickles; and finally stops. You must then mop it back up into the bucket, and start again.
Grab a mop.
Posted by: sippicancottage | March 29, 2007 at 10:07 PM
I know you have lots of stuff worth writing about (and reading about). But I sure understand the "postcards" angle. I wasn't able to manage even that for a while. Wherever your heart or mind lead you - that's the place to be (even if it isn't back to a rent-controlled studio in NYC ;-)
Posted by: Randy (Internet Ronin) | March 29, 2007 at 10:09 PM
Oh my. So many mops being tossed to me, I feel like Mickey as the Sorcerer's Apprentice . . .
Posted by: amba | March 29, 2007 at 10:14 PM
As long as we're tossing mops around, you could definitely make this one sing (or dance): wander over to my place or reader_iam's and then bring back the post about "Permanent Age." I believe that you could make this a great topic, and elicit some surprising answers from your regular readers!
Posted by: Randy (Internet Ronin) | March 29, 2007 at 10:19 PM
Amba,
What they said.
News (especially politics) has been a big turn-off for me lately. But reading other people whom I enjoy -- maybe commenting here and there -- helps restart, refocus, re-energize.
Posted by: Pastor_Jeff | March 29, 2007 at 11:07 PM
Don't stop blogging, Annie!
Posted by: Bitterroot | March 29, 2007 at 11:13 PM
Your hiatuses (hiati?) are shorter than my most bloggers' standard lulls between posts. We'll take postcards, photos, mops - or even a break if you need it.
Posted by: Alison | March 29, 2007 at 11:25 PM
You're like one of those jazz pianists who sits down at the piano, and every time something comes of it. The player may be out of sorts, sick, feeling on top of the world, having a crisis, high, totally pissed off, but putting hands on the keyboard transfigures all that, and something happens.
That is the quality of your writing. Something always happens, and we're the richer for it. You can put three words together, and we'd know it's you. There are a few other writers like that, but very few.
So, sit down at the keyboard, plunk a few chords. See what happens. We all know something will come of it.
Posted by: Theo Boehm | March 29, 2007 at 11:26 PM
So, sit down at the keyboard, plunk a few chords. See what happens.
Spoken like the true musician you are, Theo! Love it.
Posted by: Randy (Internet Ronin) | March 29, 2007 at 11:57 PM
What works for me is getting shitfaced and then blogging about reality shows.
Posted by: Anal Tea House | March 30, 2007 at 12:05 AM
Also, try just yelling at random people about the mistakes you've made but are too embarrassed to apologize for.
Yell really loud and shove it on youtube.
And never apologize, because You are a fluke of the Universe.
You have no right to be here,
and whether you can hear it or not,
the Universe is laughing behind your back.
Therefore, make peace with your god,
whatever you conceive him to be:
hairy thunderer or cosmic muffin.
With all its hopes, dreams, promises, and urban renewal,
the world continues to deteriorate.
Give up
Posted by: Anal Tea House | March 30, 2007 at 12:08 AM
With all its hopes, dreams, promises, and urban renewal,
the world continues to deteriorate.
Give up
LOL. Neale Donald Walsch by way of despair.com. I love it. The genre of the "desperational."
My 89-yr-old dad, who devoted much of his life to urban renewal, will love it.
"Shove it on youtube" + "Anal Tea House" made me think "YouLube."
Posted by: amba | March 30, 2007 at 12:14 AM
And that reminds me of this: YouLube's theme song?
Posted by: Randy (Internet Ronin) | March 30, 2007 at 12:23 AM
Sorry about that, amba. But I couldn't resist such a golden opportunity. (I was saving that for the opportune moment over at my place.)
Posted by: Randy (Internet Ronin) | March 30, 2007 at 12:28 AM
Thanks, Ronin, but that's the way I think. It's also the way amba writes.
Whether she knows it or not, she exploits all sorts of musical devices and forms in her posts.
Some writers have done this self-consciously, while others have had no idea their work mapped so well with music. It may be that what we think of as musical forms are part of the structure of our consciousness, and any complex expression is bound to use them.
But I don't mean to analyze amba's writing. I'm here to encourage her, which I would do by saying that her voice is as lyrical as any music, and we would miss it as much if it were silent.
Posted by: Theo Boehm | March 30, 2007 at 12:42 AM
Well, this thread deteriorated pretty fast. I thought this happened only on Althouse...
Posted by: Theo Boehm | March 30, 2007 at 12:46 AM
Wasn't "Fistmas" what everyone was looking for in the Valerie Plame affair?
Posted by: Theo Boehm | March 30, 2007 at 12:48 AM
Theo...perhaps speed is mercy.
Doesn't everyone loose the muse at one point? And is the lost muse first recognized by the audience rather than the creator? Perhaps the other way around.
I think of an automobile assembly line with no quality control. At one point the consumer notices but only after delivery and complaint or lack of interest does the company realize that the QC person is on a temporary leave.
Posted by: hdhouse | March 30, 2007 at 11:27 AM
Actually, Theo's description is perfect. I used to listen to a friend's piano music and hear voices- almost the words,e ven- but, not quite.
Amba's words crate music. Perfect. I hum the themes all day long :0).
Posted by: karen | March 30, 2007 at 01:02 PM
if it`s no fun, quit.
Posted by: Mickey | March 30, 2007 at 02:09 PM
...sometimes it`s all ego, yes?
Posted by: Mickey | March 30, 2007 at 02:10 PM
Yes, if you call needing to matter to a few people ego. I think it's pretty much normal ego, like only a hermit would strive to overcome. I'm not a big enough shot as a blogger to have a very big ego.
Posted by: amba | March 30, 2007 at 02:51 PM
Look at the bright side .... you do have a big left knee.
Posted by: GN | March 30, 2007 at 03:15 PM
It's all bright today, just like it was all dark yesterday.
Posted by: amba | March 30, 2007 at 03:20 PM
Excellent!!
Posted by: GN | March 30, 2007 at 03:25 PM