Blogging at Night

Nights of silence compose the majority of winter. The snow outside dances with gentle breezes. The salt decorates the snowy sidewalks like cinnamon in oatmeal. So many people sit in their rooms facing the cold of winter alone. Many face them with family, friends, and lovers. Tonight, I've done a bit of all.

While I cannot be next to a loved one physically, technology allowed us to recreate a living room. Our united imagination took us to the fireplace of a vacation cabin where we downed cup after cup of hot cocoa and marshmallows. Technology recreated our living room television and the blanket we  huddled under. It recreated the various actions that could take place during our binge session of DC animated movies and cartoons from the 90s. We spent the snowy day together and alone at the same time.

Now while a loved one sleeps, I roam the web. I'm searching for the perfect item to snag my attention and complement my cooled ginger tea. Somewhere on the web lies the key to passing time until exhaustion settles in and I can join my loved one in sleep.

A blog is perfect. Removing everything in this realm and leaping into a world of words is perfect to pass the time. A little bit of writing, a little bit of honest thought is perfect. It all seems perfect until the thought settles in. This mass of words will pile onto each other like the snow. And just as quickly as they come, the words will fade. That is the truth of the web. Time flows into the web and never returns.

A blog seems perfect until analysis settles in. The voice of a paranoid craftsmen whispering, "posting this is a mistake. This is nonsense." The voice of a sappy craftsmen whispers, "think of your beloved's joy when she reads and see you thinking of her while she sleeps." The voice of a neurotic craftsmen whispers, "fault here, fault there. Construction lacks continuity. Product beyond salvation." The voice of a curious craftsmen whispers, "I wonder if true writers struggle this much." A blog seemed perfect until the desire for harmony between technicality and creativity settled in.

A blog regains its perfection as a pastime when I whisper, "at least there is no audience at the moment." Perhaps that is the key to becoming an artist of sorts. Maybe the harmony for technicality and creativity can be found when one creates for an audience as if there is none. When the absence of an audience removes the need to perfect every single portion is when the harmony begins to arise.