Sometimes (like today) I still don't feel like I've got the hang of this blogging malarkey, even though I've been doing it since last autumn. Sometimes I wonder why I'm doing it, or wish I had a proper, neatly defined subject 'theme' for it... or 'raison d'etre' (that's pronounced with a South London accent, I'm afraid, as I always hated 'doing' a French accent at school).
Out of my real-life blogging friends, Robin's blog is a lovely collection of drawings and is part of an art gallery project and installation, Helen's is mostly about her music, Matthias writes about cyber law and stuff related to his job, and some of the Librarians at work have occasional whinges, and do blogs about gardening and strange images (anonymously, though I know who they are!).
Usually it's ok and I just write about what I want, so it's probably a bit eclectic. Then sometimes I think that it's not very coherent, zipping from one topic to another, but then again, I don't want separate blogs like the Random Reality ambulance man either. Though he does probably have a zillion readers...
And then there's the death stuff of course, as obviously I think about it and notice stuff going on in the news etc, as I can't do a PhD on mourning jewellery without thinking about the cultural context and there's usually lots to choose from to write about. Presumably I don't write anything that suggests I'm a latent psycho-nutcase from Creepsville (as I'm not) but then sometimes I wonder if it seems a bit weird to write about it in my blog, as it doesn't really 'go' with the other things I write about. My sociology of death supervisor from Bath University said he wished his other students would do a blog like mine, so I guess it's ok really...
And then sometimes I write things and afterwards think, hang on, too much personal information here, so I go back and change posts or delete bits. I've even deleted my own comments in reply to other people, where I thought I'd said too much. Whatever 'too much' is... It all sounds a bit stupid really... maybe I should have done an anonymous blog, then it wouldn't have mattered, but it's too late now, as it's all stuck in archive caches on the internet. The new academic year starts soon, and I guess I'm already thinking about that... none of the other tutors do blogs, as far as I know.
Actually, I don't even know why I'm moaning about all this. What I really want to moan about is my flipping PhD, as it's really overwhelming me at the moment. The proverbial millstone. The mail server's been down since yesterday, I'm still waiting for several people to get back to me by email, I'm surrounded by paper and I'm really sick of it today. Maybe I'll take some library books back to Chelsea, and walk along the river and I'll feel better. Yep, a good plan, if I say so myself, or the rest of the day will be a write-off, if I'm in this mood.
Grim and moany today (rockabilly didn't work its magic this time)
Happy and perky tomorrow (probably...)
Apologies for the tone of this post, but it's a PhD thing, you know. Apparently. I never believed it when other people told me it could be hideous at times, but it's true. It's a wonder anyone ever finishes the things at this rate.
Hhmmm, actually I'm a bit embarrassed to admit it (after all that whingeing) but this has got the moaning-mood completely out of my system. They're almost magical, these blogs, aren't they. And not a single real person's ears had to listen - sighs of relief all round, no doubt.
4 comments:
Yea, Claire. Your blog is clearly therapeutic. See? You have answered your own question about it's purpose.
Yes indeed, though I do still wonder why I'm doing it sometimes... I think I was just having a bad day (though I'm sure no one guessed!)
Oh Claire, I know just how you feel! I've written some moaning and griping posts and then thought the entire world will think I'm such a whiner. Some I let be and others I either never publish or delete very quickly on a reread.
Your blog is quite intriguing. I must say that the PhD subject is what hooked me. My ex had a phase of being enthralled with cemetery "art" and did a number of sculptural pieces based on that. He also has his ancestor's hair wreath which hung over our bed for many years. Not mourning jewelry, but somewhat related.
Thank you - I'm glad I'm not the only blogging moaner!
That wreath sounds fascinating - was it Victorian? And were the ex's sculptures made of hair too? Some people seem to find things like that a bit creepy, which is an interesting reaction in itself.
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