The sunlight and the cool spring air creep in through cracks in the window. Is it spring? It was, for a brief moment. The sparkling promise of warmth teases, and is gone.
And that is how I feel, lately.
The warmth is a metaphor. Did you get that? I wasn’t sure if you got that.
I have been spending time playing around with essential oils and ignoring paintings, ignoring text messages. I have been reading. Sometimes the windows are open. I have been trying very hard to stay positive, and not let the cold take me. This has been exhausting. I also tried oil-pulling. That was exciting. I think it’s probably pretty good for my gums. My mouth has been historically terrible.
I saw my father at South Station on Tuesday, which was a happy surprise. I stepped back on the red line train to Harvard with glistening eyes in the middle of the post 5 o’clock rush. My emotions are getting the better of me. While it is sometimes wonderful to be overwhelmed with joy to the point of tears, it is not so wonderful to be overwhelmed with terror. I get both, in equal amounts, and at times when it makes no sense to feel either. Gut reactions, and logic out the window. This is not a new development, but I have decided, perhaps regrettably, to be more aware of it. Tj sometimes says I’m sort of like a rabbit. I can’t really argue; it’s an astute observation. I nibble and fidget, panic and sprint. I like carrots.
I realize that I have a really different voice on this blog when I’m not sharing some kind of project or list. I try to find a balance between the two voices, because both are me. One is not more genuine than the other. This era of blogging is all about shareability, but I wonder if we think about that in a distorted way. I don’t necessarily want to have a post go viral (that actually sounds terrifying), but I absolutely want to share my words, and make a connection on an individual level. That is such a cozy notion. Very few of us are picture perfect. I am quite possibly the least so. Ever. I feel like the most pinnable posts make absolutely zero emotional contact.
Being a little vulnerable is good. Honest, and maybe sometimes awkward, is good. Those are the blogs I like best.
I like to think I’ve been mostly honest and awkward since the start.
I’m not saying product review, DIY or OOTD posts aren’t good, but they’re a totally different good. There’s a place for all of that, and I think a single blog can be that place. A lot of bloggers probably disagree, but they’re looking for something else in all this. I actually have only a very short list of blogs I read that maintain the balance I speak of. It is a difficult thing to do. I think it must be one of those things that either takes great care or great carelessness. Either you work hard to maintain voice and integrity, or it just flows.
I hope this day has been kind to you., and warm.
Thanks for stopping by. My name is Naomi, and this space is made of girldust. This blog is a picture of my comfortably scattered life on the coast of Maine. I'm trying to be a slightly better version of myself every day. I like old houses, reading, the ocean, ghost stories, and museums. You can learn a little bit more about me here. Follow along elsewhere, or get in touch: