Celebrating 100 followers at Heart, Depth and Soul
In January 2013, a restless student with a penchant for memorable quotes, poetry, sarcastic humour, Tatiana Maslany and Dexter sat in front of a laptop and opened a WordPress site because she wanted to write. About anything, make everybody see the world through her eyes, through her thoughts. Suddenly what had only existed in the white pages of a diary was going live. Scribbled thoughts, impulsive, lonely and just waiting to be pieced together to create a story. She had it all planned out, but somehow she was scared to share what she thought was only hers. Scared that once she let everybody in, her world would no longer belong to her alone, but to other internet users, other bloggers, other readers. Her words would be left alone, to fend for themselves in the ubiquitous world of the internet.
Somehow, that fear got to her, manifesting itself in the way that blog stayed dormant for six months, the only proof of its existence, a Hello World from the WordPress team. In June 2013, she could no longer hold it in. The chaotic stream of thoughts needed a platform that was bigger than her notebook or the inside pages of her textbooks, and so she published her first article.
It’s December 2014 and she has never looked back. There are days when there is that little writer’s curse called procrastination or writer’s block, but still she writes. Forgive me for referring to myself in third person but it was the only way I could ‘see me,’ become a character of my own story.
Yesterday evening I was checking my emails to see if I’d gotten any job offers that could offer me a six figure salary (No, I’m kidding but I could at least dream, right?) and saw a notification from my blog – I had just gotten my 100th follower, and it got me thinking, “Well, that’s something that needs to be celebrated.” In the 18 months that I’ve been blogging, I’ve met some amazing people who deserve a mention. Shout out to Scott Mitchell (evokingthedeep.wordpress.com) for believing in me, for liking and commenting on all my posts from August 24, 2014 (is it weird that I keep count?) and for showing me how to tag and for pointing out that my avatar was leading to a non-existent site. You rock!
To all my 100 followers and my readers, I’ve poured my heart, depth and soul to you. Thank you for giving me the priviledge of pushing my ideas down your throat. You’ve all given me the best experience a writer (or a poet) could hope for. To Google, for letting poach your images. To my internet connection, you were irritatingly slow on some days, especially when I hit publish but you always came through. To my alter ego, for keeping your tantrums in check. To Coldplay, Fun, Imagine Dragons, Pink, Ed Sheeran, Iron and Wine, Adele, The Weepies, Train, The Script, Taylor Swift, Gotye, Sara Bareilles, Sade (this list gets longer), I misused your songs for therapy and as background soundtrack to my art. And to God, for continually opening my heart to the beauty of words.
…Pop! that’s me opening a bottle of champagne. Everybody grab a glass, water, milk, juice, smoothie, lemonade, whiskey, hot soup, porridge… just grab anything in a cup because I’m not toasting alone.
Here is to us writers and poets, we are the lovers, the players, the dreamers. We are the starving artists that the world cannot do without. Sometimes, we are the losers but still we write because we believe in the value of words. We believe in the Heart, Depth and Soul of humanity. Sometimes it is a lost cause but we believe anyway, and so we scribble. And when we run out of ink, we get a new pen. When we run out of words, we create new ones and sneak them up on our readers, or the Oxford English Dictionary like William Shakespeare (who coined words like frugal and phrases like cold comfort). I’ve been told that I parenthesize a lot but it is a flaw I have accepted, I think you should too.
About my initial character, she still scribbles, in the street when a thought hits her, on a bus while going to work, when sitting on a park bench, when having lunch with friends, when stuck in traffic. She carries her notebook around like the world depends on it, scribbling words that wouldn’t make sense to anyone at first glance. There are the disjointed lines in page one, another stream of thoughts in the mid-pages, some more random ones in the last pages. Sometimes these thoughts begin from the end because there are times you think about the ending of a story or just the middle part of it and then you start to craft the story to get to the beginning. Sure, sometimes the thoughts don’t make sense to you either. But you give it time to develop, you go around in circles, back and forth, back and forth like a pendulum (yeah, it’s like the world is spinning, like you are going crazy) until you find the unity in your thoughts. Chaotic mind, simplified thoughts, and that, ladies and gentlemen is the burden of every writer.