Friday, January 16, 2004

I think my favorite of all religious rituals is compline, right before bed, the singing away of the day, awaiting the morn. Lighting the candle tonight, folding away the clothes of my day, making my own quiet respect for all that is passed, all that is to come. Some folks just get it, without even really thinking they get it, technology as a tool, the Web as a way to tell stories better. I keep thinking of the idea of doing real behind the scenes keeper chats, with depth. Maybe not every story is highlighted, but what a grand gestalt experiment, something that will make keepers better keepers, visitors who read that depth visitors. Imagine observers observing themselves. I think one of the beauties of blogging is precisely the disconnect, the lack of warmth, the clicking of the keyboard, the anonymity of publishing to the ether, versus pen and paper in a journal, on a scrap of envelop, which is so intensely  personal and physical and full of sense and sensation and awareness of the historical order, the documents found hidden in some desk drawer years later. Your drawer. Your life. And the momentary shudder of intimacy and historical intent that breeds. Blogs and blogging for me, the blog as a medium, lacks personality or sense of time or space, and allows, I think, that unedited self out more freely, precisely because of the sterility of the process. Like an isolation chamber for the writing soul. 12:50:51 AM