Thoughts, lately.

Walking to work the other day I was thinking about how I feel constantly in contact with friends through the apps and programs I use. And I wonder if it distracts me from constructing something larger.
I often think about my audience and how to record or share something when it comes to instagram, snapchat, and less so now, but still, facebook. I'm not always creating for an audience but it is something on my mind. Quite instantly I can see if people have liked something or responded. It makes me feel like I have made my way into some sort of private/public echo room where I make a sound and listen for the response.

I've always liked my blog because it is a public space yet it feels private. I like that I don't know who reads it, if anyone. It makes me feel more excited to create and write and share things as it is a space for just my voice and it's not filtered into a newsfeed of a limitless number of other voices. With this blog it is less about the posting and response, but more about recording something I am looking at/listening to/watching/making or articulating a thought or idea. In some ways it is cathartic as I work out an idea or share something and then I don't look to the response, but simply move on.
It bothers me that there are gaps in the archive but I have to remind my librarian-side that I can't streamline all my writings and images to one place. I need to allow creativity to happen in different mediums and trying to catalogue all of these could prove to stand in the way of further workings and developments.

I can become very narrowed down on particular things and it is something I am working on to remind myself that I can do different things and work in different ways.


I was also thinking, on this walk to work, how I used to write more poems. The words of some of my particular poems still resonate so clearly in my mind.
I wonder what I would write about now. 

I used to play around with words quite regularly a few years ago but now the written word is a more rare tool for me. I've hardly written a poem in recent times.

I remind myself that I am not going to act the same as I did five years ago. And remind myself that I have not lost anything and that it is good to be growing and changing. 

But, for example, this year I have witnessed myself drift in and out of activities like maintaining a diary. I'm not sure how to feel about this. I value my older diaries so much and I wonder how my current diaries compare. And I also wonder if I should more strictly be enforcing diary-writing for my own well-being. I guess I am in a place where I don't know how I am recording my life if I am recording at all.

I need to stay in touch with myself and be aware of how I'm feeling and acting.


Been thinking a lot the last fortnight about going back to Blackburn and seeing my Grandpa's old house that isn't there any more. I've never had that desire before and have actively avoided going there.

I'm struggling with old griefs and current frustrations. 

Spent a few months dreaming about moving to Castlemaine earlier this year. Another failed romantic notion, I write with jest. Thinking about that country house where I was going to have a quiet time and read and draw and occasionally feel lonely but be in the company and support of a special friend.
I guess I'm yearning for a familiar, quiet and safe space at the moment. And although I'm trying to fall back in love with my house and I do appreciate it, it serves me differently. I don't see it as a refuge. I'd like to try a different space. But there's a bunch of practical reasons why my current house is good and I don't know how to make my choice.
I like my weekly babysitting gig a the moment. It's very calm hanging out with a well-behaved 11 year old. Time to read and draw. Everything moves slowly and is planned out.


Thoughts continue to flow and I want to make more space to think and write about them. Work my way through the griefs and frustrations and figure out the ways I am recording.

Delia Derbyshire - "Falling", from The Dreams (1964)