I’ll try my best to resist belting out my rendition of Natasha Bedingfield’s catchy song even though it did pop into my head once I decided to title this post unwritten. That was surely unintentional, and hopefully I won’t be singing the song all day as a result, 'cause that would be really annoying.
Keeping a personal photoblog such as this, where I’ve very purposely decided it would free from obligation, sometimes presents a dilemma. I like the spontaneity of posting only when an image, or a word, or some random thought pops into my consciousness and compels me to do something with it. I like that it’s never planned, and how I’m often surprised by where I end up once I begin. Keeping up with light-headed is very much like keeping up with a wayward toddler at a photo session. Even when I think I have some smart idea of how things will unfold, the toddler, just like this photoblog, will school me quick.
The dilemma arrives after I’ve given myself one too many passes on posting a new entry. At first I’m totally good with the decision to not force something that I’m just not feeling. I mean, I’m not doing this for a grade or to win anyone over, so no big deal if there are lapses. But then there is a sense that the words left unwritten are accumulating, bumping into each other, and becoming a jumbled tangle of nonsense inside my head. Now it’s officially hard to decipher what it is I have to say, and I come to the logical conclusion that I don’t have anything *to* say.
Sometimes I think about all the beauty that’s here within my reach to photograph that I’m not photographing, and it makes me kind of sad. And then there are those fleeting thoughts that I don’t explore further that remain unwritten. None of these untaken images or unwritten thoughts were necessarily important or worthy of anyone‘s time, but they were mine. Letting them float away unacknowledged is only denying myself.
I know better, but still the fear of appearing clumsy, inarticulate or just plain not good enough keeps too many wallflowers from joining the dance. And that’s a shame.