(1 - 1/20/22)

Honestly, the question isn’t whether I have anything to say.  It’s whether I decide to say it or not.

I used to be a blogger.  Had a decent following and a captivating enough tale (girl moves to Ireland to seek new life and an Irish fella).  I even had some movie-worthy plot lines (accidentally shaving off half an eyebrow comes to mind and, for those of you who followed back then, who can forget the loveliness of the handsome Creative Writer and the flower they stealthily left upon my desk?!).  Later on, when I started my work as a professional photographer, I blogged 80% of my sessions and shared memories and stories and why I love my job. It gave every session a special place. As I became more established, there simply wasn’t enough time to blog. So I stopped. Which was a huge bummer. But I love telling stories, I love hearing stories, and I love capturing stories.  A lifetime of theatre and a career as a photographer will do that to a person.

But recently I’ve realized the less I share, the more content I am.  Sharing is A LOT.  There’s no mystery to an over-sharer and sometimes I like to be mysterious.  Never mind how much effort it takes these days.  Long gone are the times where you put together a delightful stream-of-consciousness post on a blog, hit publish, and then it’s all done.  Nowadays, you have to share about it on 15 different platforms, probably make a reel or a video, make sure that video has effects and trendy songs that people want, and……. bleh.  It’s too much.  AND it’s a ton of work that doesn’t pay.  As a mother of two and a solo entrepreneur, time is so incredibly precious.

So… see? Is it worth it?

The correct answer is: it IS worth it. If it gives me an outlet and let’s me connect with YOU on an even deeper level, then it is entirely worth it.

It’s January as I write.  Which means I am in my quiet(er) season.  Which means I CAN write and start this journey because I have some time.  It also means I don’t want to get anything done. At all.  Nothing whatsoever.  I’m currently hours away from a dinner date with an old friend that I have no reason to cancel except I really don’t want to put on pants.  You’ve all been there - we are all collectively there thanks to this never-ending pandemic - so you get it.  I’ll most likely go because I do want to see her, I like the idea of getting a good meal and drink that I didn’t prepare, and I can always wear leggings and pretend they’re pants.  Leggings, man.  A great invention.  So it’s a huge possibility I’ll write this absurd intro-to-my-brain post and then never write again.  For that all I can say is…. ::shrug::

I guess all of this is to say, I’ve thought about this a lot and I keep not writing because I hit all these roadblocks on my journey..  

But maybe I should just start and see where it goes, swerving around the roadblocks like the deft stunt driver I am.

So I started.
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Added on 2/24/22 when I actually published this: I did indeed go on that dinner date and it was lovely. Clearly this has been a decision I needed time to make since I wrote that post a month ago and am just now publishing it. But it feels like maybe it’s time for me to share some thoughts, and in a better free-form way than my instagram stories provide. Because, spoiler alert, brevity is not my specialty. Let’s see where this goes.

-K