No one has read this in a while, or no one reads this, anyways; either way, fine. Good.
For a long time I’ve not been writing beyond the things that the academy expects of me. There are loads of reasons; not wanting to be read with thoughts half-baked, for example. But increasingly, the world has reached such a pitch that I’ve felt like I wanted to say something, anything, if only for myself. And if my positionality as someone capable of taking space much more easily than those not male, or white, has pulled me back from writing publicly*, it shouldn’t have kept me from writing at all. I shouldn’t have left things as they were. I should have kicked the ox off my tongue a while ago.
Which is what this is going to become. I had a blog once, long ago; this is the blog now. It won’t be graceful or polished; it won’t even necessarily be read. But it will be written in.
A year or so ago I started something called Tuesdays and Fridays with a friend of mine I called my Editor: Tuesday and Friday of each week, I would post a poem in a Google Drive folder that only she and I had access to. My job was to write something, anything, and share it by then. Her job was to nag me if I hadn’t done it.
Tuesdays and Fridays stopped out of reasons I no longer understand. It’s starting again. This blog is starting again. It’s worth it, I think, to use whatever space I have to practice not being dumb, or merely observing, the world as I am beginning to understand it. It may even be better for me if I actively have no dreams of this ever being read. But it will be here, for my eyes and for those that might wander onto it, until the servers die and the Anthropocene folds onto us like a heavy cloak. Until the ox gets bored.
*Which is such a strange privilege in itself! Assuming not only that what I wrote would be worth saying, but also that it would somehow of course be published.