Dear Lake Superior Spirit Diary,
Gosh, now that I’ve turned off comments (in order to better catch up on reading other people’s blogs, because I got so far behind and feel guilty writing more posts with more comments to respond and reciprocate) it’s kinda fun to just Think Out Loud.
I read and commented on other people’s blogs for almost three hours yesterday, and have scheduled another couple hours today.
But enough blogging talk, Diary. It’s been a long time since we’ve last babbled.
OK, what shall we talk about this fine Sunday morning when Daylight Savings Time forced our clocks to “fall back” so everyone on the planet is up an hour earlier than they planned? Or else they’re sleeping in, grasping handfuls of sleep greedily, attempting to “catch up” just like I’m trying to catch up in the blogosphere.
Diary, I don’t know what to think of my new Lake Superior Spirit page on Facebook. (You don’t know what to think of anything! Isn’t it odd how we sometimes know less and less as we age?) Yes, indeed, it’s odd how we know less and less as we age, except when we think we know more.
One of my pictures went viral this week!
Kathy, you know you exaggerate. Did it really go viral, or did you get 100 views?
Diary, I would have to google viral to get a definition of “viral” but it went viral in my book. It now has almost 800 views and 101 likes and maybe 15 comments where people typed stuff like “Beautiful!” and “Stunning!” and “Hi Becky, is this close to where you live?”
Kathy, you need to get a life. You are way too interested in statistics.
Diary, c’mon, I am SO much better than ten years ago when I counted car mileage statistics. But, never mind statistics. Here’s what I don’t understand. You know, you have this FB page for your blog and you think you’re going to attract readers, right? So you provide links to your blog posts. I posted a link to that very photograph and it received 44 views. Out of those 44 views, four people clicked to come over and visit. None of them said howdy-do.
HOWEVER (and here’s the big HOWEVER) if you post the very same photo on Facebook without an attached blog link and people like it–or pass it around via their walls–or whatever we crazy humans do–almost 800 people can see it, even though I’ve never had 800 people see a photo on FB before.
Why will people click on a photo and not on a link? Why oh why oh why?
Diary, I still don’t understand about photographs. Why can 800 people see one of my pictures and I don’t feel anything except “oh how nice” and yet when I write words and sentences and paragraphs it feels like my heart is going to explode with joy? Or it feels sad, or deranged, or lovely, or wonderful, or heart-clenching?
Writing still makes me feel. Yet it seems that pictures make other people feel deeply. They feel very deeply. Why do people sometimes like my photos because they’re feeling deeply about something that I don’t feel deeply?
Diary: You better be glad people can’t comment here. For one thing, you massacred that last sentence and you’ll refuse to edit it just because! For the second thing, people will think you want answers to your questions. But I know you. You just want to express yourself and then move on to the next minute without your questions answered.
Me: You don’t know everything about me. You’re just a diary.
Diary: We go back a long way, bebs. Back to that little white diary with the pink poodle on the cover from third grade.
Me: It’s in the attic now, buried in a box somewhere, isn’t it?
Anyway, diary, I am now pondering the difference between a blog and a diary and whether we really want or need commentary. Do we post blogs because we need or want attention? When one doesn’t allow comments, why is one still blogging publicly?
If one doesn’t feel deeply about photographs, why does one still take pictures and share them?
Why do we humans do the things we do?
I am thinking now that there are different kinds of love and attention. Different ways of relating–and none is better or worse. Just different.
Thank you for listening, dear Diary. There may be people opening your pages and sneaking a glimpse at these secret words today. But don’t worry. I hid every pen and pencil and crayon in the house so they won’t say anything.
What? You’re crying? Don’t be lonely, dear Diary! As soon as I finish reading every blog in the blogosphere you’ll have company again. I promise.