Blog. Blogger. Blogging. For a long time this trio of words inhabited a strange place in my mind. Although, nearly since the time I could construct coherent thoughts I dreamed wildly of becoming an author, blogging was never part of that dream. Instead the term existed as a strange quasi-profession that I didn't much care to understand.
A pivotal shift in my relationship with the act, was when my mother began to blog, in the wake of my departure to college. I remember reading her blogs in my first year of college and in the years that followed, consistently, amused, entertained and even touched. Still at that point did the siren call of blogging draw me in? No, it did not. I, who, had forever fled to other rooms when even close friends and family were reading my writing could not countenance the prospect of bearing my intimate thoughts to the public.
Alas, in that case, what has changed? Why do I feel the gravitational pull of blog drawing words from my fingers and grasping tendrils of my soul? Why do I feel compelled to write and write, for the world to see, tantalized at the prospect of what I may be able to unearth from within and distill from around? It's inexplicable, but I do. Let's see what edifices of beauty, fluidity and profundity (or lack thereof) I am able to construct as I take this first infinitesimal step of my blogging journey.
