Three years ago this day, two passionate, excited, naïve bloggers propelled into cyberspace a project they had dreamed of since their most serendipitous first interactions together online.
The bloggers were, of course, yours truly and my partner in crime, Tallulah “Lulu” Stark. The project was what you see here, A Canvas Of The Minds.
I don’t think either of us had a clue of what it would eventually become, which was key. We had ideas and hopes and dreams, but I’ll tell you all now that I never expected then to be where we — and I — are now. I think a little blind naïveté is just what we need sometimes.
I wanted very much to write this year’s “birthday” post — I really do feel more like Canvas is a child I have had the privilege of helping to nurture and raise, so to me words like “blogoversary” or “anniversary” just haven’t the proper fit that “birthday” does — back to the point, I wanted so much to write about all of the amazing people who have and do write here with me, past and present, and what I have learned from them. I truly have learned so much.
But then life happened, as it has a way of doing. Right now I’m in a tumult — my life is honestly an absolute tempest, to get down to it. As I alluded to in my most recent post, there are things going on both around and within me over which I have little to no control. The last straw was a migraine as I sat to try to write this earlier. The deadline was drawing near, and I couldn’t move without feeling like I wanted to die.
And that’s when I realized what I have really, perhaps, finally learned after 34 years of life and three years of this gig.
I learned to have mercy for myself. To treat myself with kindness, as my wonderful co-authors (and readers, and the blogging community I have been so fortunate to be a part of) have always treated me, and encouraged me to apply to myself. I finally let go and understood that the sky was not falling, Chicken Little. No birthday post need go out at all.
I have known for a good long while that I was the only one who would really feel like I had failed in some sacred duty if I did not get something written. I know the rest of the world wouldn’t even have noticed, but I set standards and metrics for myself so exceptionally high as to be quite absurd, when observed from a distance.
In any case, the migraine quelled just enough for me to pound this out. I truly don’t know but that it isn’t a bit of a mess, but you know what? If it is, that’s alright too.
So here’s wishing our little baby, now standing and walking and well to speaking, speaking with the voices of many: beautiful, clear, strong, voices all, many happy returns of this day.
I hope yet to write that post about what my fellow authors have taught me, perhaps when things have stilled a bit. But for today, I must be content to say (as a poet once said), “and I love you, fucking all.”
Those who feel the breath of sadness
Sit down next to me
Those who find they’re touched by madness
Sit down next to me
Those who find themselves ridiculous
Sit down next to me. . .
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