Here we are again. Blogging. Or rather, Blurping. I’m not sure what this blog should be. An art blog? A writing blog? A “traveling around the Central Coast,” blog? It’s not going to be a “smart” blog. Maybe smartassed. I could blog about all the plants I take picture of or my desire to start producing cyanotypes . . . but . . . I don’t know. I could blog about crime. I could blog about my latest writing project . . . possible a crime.

I’ve never been one of those peeps who think that everything coming into their head is of general interest to anyone within earshot, screenshot, or blogshot.

I have a lot of disdain for Wikipeeps—those individuals with encyclopedia knowledge on the tips of their tongues. Makes me wonder if there’s actually anything happening inside their noggins other than information processing? Always having that desire to have the latest information about the latest whatever, all that time spent spewing, and correcting, and posturing, and then all the self-doubts about whether you may have gotten it wrong, and therefore, may not be as popular as you thought. At some point it has to be exhausting.

Stop looking for perfection; it’s so negative. Breathe. And in that brief moment of clarity, dance in your pants.