Maybe. I haven't decided yet. But am not happy with the directionlessness of this blog. Its happy miscellaneity can get a little silly and wearisome at times (perhaps not to the few loyal readers, but certainly to the author).
I would continue blogging at phos hilaron, my blog emphasizing the treasures of Eastern Christianity.
As for this blog, who knows? I might find something vital that captures my attention later today or tomorrow, and begin blogging again with vigor, and renounce all thoughts of suspending the effort. But there are times when it does seem wise to slow down a bit.
4 comments:
Say it ain't maybe so....
Ellyn,
I probably won't stop blogging, and certainly won't delete the blog; but almost definitely, I will slow things up a bit. (Not that 5 or 6 posts a week is an especially torrid pace!)
At least your pace is better than mine!
Seriously, maybe if you let it alone for awhile you will recapture your enthusiasm for it. I have been completely uninclined to blog for a month now, but I feel like I am ready to start writing again. A blog can certainly come to seem like a very forced whimsy - haha, here's a funny poem, here's a political article, here's a quirky aphorism! and you can grow to hate writing it, even though (as you said) your readers may not tire of it - which suggests that you are not voluble by nature. You have (I reel on in my assumptions) a healthy hatred of becoming a "chattering soul," and sometimes blogging seems too much like chattering.
I have found that the energy I put into blogging has been drawn off more and more into private correspondence - I feel more comfortable, now, revealing my thoughts to one person at a time. But perhaps I will rediscover the romance of blogging. Perhaps you will too. I hope so! You always find the *best* Cummings poems. I can't seem to read him on my own - only through your blog.
Thanks for the kind words, Meredith!
You've hit on two things that are exactly right. "Very forced whimsy" is an apt description of how I've come to see this blog, esp. in recent days.
On the other hand, private correspondence is effortless, and not marked by the same degree of awkward self-consciousness. Here I recall Marianne Moore saying, "Fear of insufficiency is synonymous with insufficiency." And I fear I am not serious enough, too enamored of the silly chatter! An embarrassing trait.
As for Cummings, what can be said? He still manages to surprise me, after twenty-odd years of reading him. Maybe my next post will be a Cummings poem!
Thanks again.
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