I don’t have any favorite blogs anymore, and I miss that source of creative inspiration. There was a time I had a few female writers tucked nicely into my reading list, that wrote about interesting, personal, weird, or funny things. That list has dried up, or become too different, I don’t recognize most of it anymore. Mostly I loved writers sharing photos and thoughts about their collections and side projects, I liked that more than the stylish cool hunters with flawless houses and outfits. I liked the process stuff, women exploring their work through experimentation and admitting to mistakes and flaws. There are plenty of blogs that I look at regularly now, but I don’t necessarily love them or find inspiration in the same places anymore.
I don’t have very much enthusiasm for blogs about party ideas or fashion, and am easily worn out and over-stimulated by the endless cool hunting blogs. I can get sucked into a rabbit-hole of clicking and swiping for long periods, but it all feels pretty forgettable. The monetization of many blogs killed them for me, because they became too aspirational, too curated. They are easy to look at, but don’t feel as inspirational as they feel overwhelming. My online reading list is probably not exhaustive, nor is it complete, and its entirely possibly that I’m in a weird internet rut of my own making. My interests have shifted of course in the last few years, as have most blogs. Maybe because there is more stuff to look at, I’m looking less-deeply at a whole hell of a lot more, and feeling less connected to all of it.
I don’t write with the (alarming) frequency and intensity that I once did, and after 5 weird years of keeping this blog, I’m not sure what it is here for anymore. These days, I mostly just write about how busy I feel. I’m bored by that! I used to force myself to write to process my work and experiences, but anymore I feel hesitant to do it in a public way. Now when I need time to be reflective, I want to be away from the screen, not pouring into it. I think with the amount of online oversharing I’ve been guilty of in the past, as well as the near constant exposure to other people’s oversharing online (especially Instagram) it has made me feel a bit more hermit-y about sharing anything truly real online. I think most of my time is spent working, or trying to stop thinking about work, so I can take break to recharge before I have to go back to my work. Writing about that process feels circular, but I haven’t found an outlet to replace that practice of writing and thinking, and finding new inspiration. I used to make more than I do now, and that process of thinking with my hands was inspiring and therapeutic, but for
some reason many reasons, I’ve replaced making inspiration with looking for inspiration. Again, more boring than boring. I don’t know if I am abandoning my blog, though I’ve come back this week to do a bit of digital tidying. I don’t dare to delete, but I might just be ready to move on.