I remembered an important thought yesterday which helped me understand the difference between the blog and myself. I realized that while I am certainly uncomfortable telling the world at random about who I am, the blog itself is a work of art. I carve the statue which is the blog, and it’s not me, but its own thing. I don’t need it to make sense. I simply don’t want to reveal things about myself. If you want to know about me, seek me out. Write me a letter.
What you read here is my version of a literary work of art. The blog form is a medium. I feel comfortable enough working in that medium to produce this work. I felt so much better when I realized that, or re-realized it. I had been conflating the work with my own existence.
I think the thing which stands out most about the blog is its democratic aspect. What it means is that if I write it here, I am OK with ANYBODY reading it. I know of some famous instances in which the author of a blog becomes closer to her anonymous readers than they are with anyone they know. See the movie Julie and Julia for an example. This is what would be a type of psychological incest she had with her many anonymous readers, using the anonymity to become more honest than she was capable of, in her daily life, in which she must be phonier, to maintain her social status.
There is a long history of the written word being more intimate than the revealed life of a person, for just this reason, the necessity to maintain appearances in regular life. I realized I am very different about this. I cannot form a degree of comfort with you just because I do not know you. In my experience even the most innocent looking people are as dangerous as pit vipers. Therefore I do not trust strangers any more than I trust those I know well. Add to this another peculiarity which is that I maintain no discrepancy between my social status and my in-person behavior. I have no social status to lose, and while no one can predict the future, I believe it will be some time before I must consider how I would like to appear in contradistinction to my actual condition.
I can simplify the message this way: the real ME is the one you meet in person. The blog I write is a sculpture I’m making.