I love this blog space. I love this immediate online place where I see the words being made and then I push a few keys and suddenly they arrive in a completely public world where others can choose to read them. I love that readers take me seriously enough to leave comments, and that I take the time (not often enough in the last while) to create something with intention. I love words. I love grammar. I love ideas.
I love this place to reflect on my life, loves, work, bones of contention. I love the possibility that this kind of writing is therapy. I don’t really have to worry if this is totally self-indulgent (and it probably absolutely is) I just have to hear how it sounds and agree with it at the time. I love that when I write here I should definitely be doing something else (right now I should be writing a work script with a yesterdayish deadline) but I have chosen to be here, doing this, now. I love writing about what I have done, and what I am going to do.
I have neglected this space at times, and overloaded it with attention at others. I have climbed onto the meganshead soap box, and sat on the meganshead couch. I have launched the meganshead spear of criticism and used the meganshead blanket of comfort. I have shared meganshead indulgence and frivolity.
Long live this space.