Mmmm. Early mornings (well, as "early" as you can get being a 20-year-old living in Barcelona, Spain) with no particularly pressing agenda or commitments and the small bubble that is my life quiet and still just peacefully mine. As close as this flat has come to a notion of home, I can't wait to spend these hours in California. I can already taste the skies cloudy at dawn, sharp salt air, soft hooded sweatshirts, the Pacific Ocean breaking on the shore...
This morning I spent the first few hours visiting an old, familiar but unknown world. Reconnection (via the most unromantic means of Facebook), even in a most static way, has brought my worlds of past and present into a collision of surreality.
Besides TL, BC (BJ now, I suppose) was the girl I wanted to be and maybe still do. I have these strangely distinct hallway memories of my first youth retreat, of the occasional conversations in various CEC locales, of desiring to embody that same beauty, that same depth of faith. To this day, I still remember what the cover of her journal looked like...
Perusing through her xanga entries spanning the last four years, so many thoughts are stirred within me. The ability to write well--to exude eloquence and beauty and novelty of thought through the means of written--continues to be something that powerfully captures my respect. I've been going back and forth about starting a new blog for awhile now, but hadn't been able to conjure up a good enough rationale or justification. Don't think I have even now.
Too fine is the line between knowingly sharing with the public what is real and genuine in my life and consciously writing to please. I know the minute I discover the demographics of my audience, my writing is immediately affected, intentional or not. In most cases, I believe the true beauty and value in heart-inspired thoughts lie in their original, raw state, unadulterated by the vulnerabilities of openly sharing. Why are the ramblings of my personal journal not sufficient? Is it the secret (or not so secret?) desire for validation and affirmation? Or simply the search for a means of revealing dimensions of life I'd otherwise be incapable of sharing?
As I continue to work through these debates and no doubt post-then-delete entries, here goes nothing...about half a penny's worth of thoughts.
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