The Art of Blogging

I’ve always wanted to write a blog.

Since high school, I’ve always had an elated ego - always thinking that I had to voice my thoughts, which I thought were interesting enough to publish. Evidently, nobody reads my blog (except sometimes for you, C). Sometimes I think to myself, “If I had started blogging in 2016 even… if I had stuck to it since then, I could’ve been a craftsman, a critic, a voice.” Turns out, I am as normal as possible. I am completely a part of the statistic of the billion other failed wannabe writers. I think it’s the tenacity that one needs to really keep to it. I already have three blog posts that are still ‘in edit’ or waiting to be published. Some of the posts have been stalled because I’m often thinking, “is this appropriate for my ‘art’ blog?” It’s not a diary, for Pete’s sake.

Speaking of art, why is it so damn hard to take pictures of things and uploading it? Actually, I gotta say, it is hard. Sometimes, I’m so into the craft or I’m too preoccupied to take a picture. And then the typical thought is that I’ll take pictures and write the process next time. It’s so hard to review and write when you’re trying to live at the same time. Also, reviewing for who? Nobody’s reading this anyway.

I hope someday someone thinks this blog is worth something. Do I have to show my face then? I don’t know.
I really want to work in editing.. or I want my brother to work in editing. Something in writing. I want to be able to publish a book. I wish to be happy working for Penguin Books someday. Someone told me recently that the publishing world isn’t what it used to be. That it’s turned into more of a politics game. No fun. I just want to read and write, yap and drink coffee.

Anyway, I’m always always always thinking about this blog. What I should write, what I should upload. I guess it’s sort of freeing to have a platform where I can look forward to writing on (even though nobody is reading).

Onward.