Come to the garden in spring. There’s wine
and sweethearts in the pomegranate blossoms.
If you do not come, these do not matter.
If you do come, these do not matter.
WordPress Stats tell me I have 1,500 followers.
I am trying to be offhanded about it, but it’s actually pretty stunning news, the thought of so many people hanging around waiting for me to open my big fat mouth and say something entertaining/instructive/enlightening/inspiring/intelligent, so much so that it’s freaking me out and I want to just sit here, rocking slightly and keening, “eeeeeeeeeee!“
It’s hard to believe I was able to snag the interest of so many people with my erratic blatherings-on about whatever, and the pressure is incredible (a terrific attack of self-consciousness, here) to oh, I dunno…earn or somehow maintain your continued following? Repay you? Not let you down?
Spur this blog on to greater heights of garrulousness, a thousand more followers?
On the one hand, it seems like a huge thing.
On the other hand—and I laughed with the sudden realization as I told Kris tonight—the number is meaningless. Meaningless.
Because I think I would keep this blog, anyway, regardless of whether there were 10 or 1,000 readers. That even ONE person, a total stranger, reads and enjoys it, is amazing. Dizzying. Flattering. My readership is multiples of one, not some lump total number that homogenizes everyone.
It does not make me anybody important, it is not a reliable indicator of whether or not I am a person of quality, it cannot make my life any more perfect than it was five minutes before I found out about it. There’s the warm feeling of reaching some people, yes, who would deny that? Even made a few friends through the blog, and that’s the best part, the only part that has made a real change: half a dozen friends whose blogs I now read and comment upon.
It’s not like I planned to, or believed I would, keep a blog for three years. My main concern was coming up with something to say on a regular basis…never thought about followers, or getting chosen by Freshly Pressed, or any of that. I just sit here, writing, uploading photos of stuff I’m working on at the moment, sometimes I manage something a little more useful, like a tutorial or a signpost pointing you in the direction of someone who really deserves the attention…but it happens in the moment—whoosh!—it passes, and is gone. I never know what the next post will be about, or whether you will read it, or not. Whether you will like it, or not. Signing up for this blog’s posts has been a real act of faith on your part…I’m amazed that you are with me at all.
Don’t really know what else to say, other than