Two and a half years ago, I decided that it would make sense for me to have an outlet to share things that I was excited about. So I started this blog.
It was conceived as a way of archiving things. The archive structures memory, but not always in a negative way. Some argue that we live in an age of too much information (and oversignification, to borrow Baudrillard’s term), and for a time, out of insecurity perhaps, or out of a sense of boredom (and one mustn’t underestimate boredom), I felt that I needed to cope with such a phenomenon.
Part of me also wanted to share, in the simplest way, these things that I was or would get excited about.
The last two years have seen me pick up so many new things and revisit so many old ones. The archive grew in its strange chronological manner. More like a diary, perhaps.
Today’s the day that it stops.
It seemed like a good day. It’s Julio Cortázar’s birthday after all.
There really isn’t much of a compelling reason. I suppose I’ve somehow consolidated enough for me to feel comfortable with my memory of these things. (I sometimes watch a film only to realise I’ve watched it before in the final ten minutes.) No, that doesn’t make much sense, but it’s the way I feel about it.
I think I also feel as if I wanted more out of this. So it is with a slight tinge of regret that I’m putting this behind. I had always wanted to do more with this. Starting small, I would start to have articles, longer articles, guest writers, and so on. Yet, I never really managed it. Whatever I managed to write, well, I never could spare the time or energy to really make any of them very worthwhile.
I’m only getting older and busier. It means that I grow tired easily. Not in the sense that I grow jaded or cynical, but simply physically tired. There’s also so many other things I have to or want to do. Projects to get started. Places to go. People to meet.
No, this doesn’t take that much time. Yet the discipline is peculiarly taxing.
I’m still excited about things. There are artists everywhere to discover. There are books waiting to be read, movies yet to be seen. And there are songs, old and new. I’m still excited, and I guess I want to say that I hope you will be too.
Nobody killed Lemmy Caution. There’s no way anyone could.
d
