I’ve always felt, in times of supreme longing for purpose in my yet immature life, that this blog is more than just a collection of random thoughts.
I’ve looked at it as an extension of my life – a personal journal for the masses to peruse and a healthy release of pent-up diatribes. It’s my personality, in writing, piece by piece, from my hobbies to my innermost desires. It’s an opening up of my mind, my thoughts spilling out into the unforgiving void of cyberspace.
Since Sierra has entered into my life, Black Marks on Wood Pulp has taken an even more important position – it’s a glimpse from the past, a way for future generations to know who I was. It’s a preservation of my life, albeit an egotistical self-driven preservation.
In her words…
Dear Future is a vanity project inspired by my ancestor Charlotte Matheny Kirkwood. She wrote about emigrating on the Oregon Trail in 1843 and her experiences as a pioneer. My life involves considerably less butter churning.
There’s just one post up right now, but it shows great promise. Admittedly, I’m jealous. Of the name. And of the idea – of focusing on that one highlight, on nostalgia, not just for nostalgia’s sake but with real purpose. But regardless of the small jealousy, and with so many new blogs populating what little space is left in the blogosphere in an effort to catch up with the times, it’s refreshing to find something so heart-felt.
Kudos for Abi for bucking the usual trend of blogs as single-subject, informational tools and embracing the world of personal blogging, where emotions and thoughts can be captured and thrust upon the world. For whatever that’s worth.