Thoughts I've Had About the Internet

1. All of these artists and writers I follow are so productive- they're always sharing new work, so they must not struggle with their creativity ever! 

2. Maybe my life would be better if I threw my phone in a lake and lived the rest of my days in a cabin in the mountains without internet

3. Why does it feel like everyone is yelling at each other?

4. I hate it when someone with a large platform posts something obviously just for fun/to document their life, and someone else feels the need to comment something like, "I'm SO disappointed to see that you're still using plastic straws! (or buying fast fashion, or ordering from Amazon, or not eating vegan/organic/raw/whatever, or supporting ____ company with terrible labor practices, etc. etc). We should all try to make ethical choices, but trying to make EVERY choice ethical all the time is exhausting and frankly sometimes financially/emotionally/logistically impossible in the current world we live in.

5. Why does every cooking blog make you scroll for miles to get to the recipe?

6. Do people even read blogs anymore? Why do I still have one?

7. The truth is I want to have an online following. The truth is I'm terrified that the things I have to do to get an online following (post more, be relatable, promote myself/my work) will look weird and self serving to the people who already follow me (especially people I know in real life).

8. Instagram is horrible and fake. Why are we all pretending that it's real???

9. Instagram allows you to glimpse the world through other people's eyes. It's the most creative social media platform.

10. Social media would be so much easier if I was a visual artist instead of a writer. Writing is so solitary and slow and not as aesthetically pleasing as art.

11. I love that Patreon allows creative people to have supplemental income, and it seems like a really great tool. But, like with anything on the internet, will it be around in 20 years? What if it goes the way of Vine? What if all of those people pour their art and their livelihoods into this thing and then one day it's gone?

12. When I was a kid, I wrote journal entries from my dog's POV and posted them on Dogster, which used to be a sort of Facebook for dogs (aka: their owners. Obviously). Now, if you go on Dogster.com it's just an online magazine about dogs? All of the community pages have been taken down, including the rather large number of entires I wrote when I was eight or nine. For some reason that makes me kinda sad?

13. Question I think people should ask more: What's your favorite website? (Mine is Brain Pickings)

14. I love cute animal videos as much as the next person. I HATE the sappy music that plays in the background of almost all of them.

15. The roller skating community is the friendliest, most supportive internet community I've ever encountered. It's where I feel the magic of the Internet the most strongly.

16. There's nothing more disheartening than reading the comments made by guys on a video of a girl skateboarding. (Watch this video for a taste.)

17. Why do I feel that little zing of happiness when I read something/see a meme that I relate to? Even when it's something small and stupid. Why do we crave that little bloom of recognition so much?

18. I'm going to do a social media detox. *5 min later* How did I get on Instagram without even realizing it?

19. Maybe if I gave up social media I'd have more time. Or maybe I'd just find a way to waste it on something else.

20. I still sometimes have these moments where I'm in awe of what the internet can do. You can type anything (anything!!) into the search bar, and there are thousands of people talking/writing about that very thing. You can learn anything you want. If you're curious about something, all it takes is a few clicks. It's the ultimate knowledge tool - bigger than any library in the world. And isn't it just so HUMAN of us to have made this incredible knowledge machine, and fill it with cat videos.

The First Snowfall

Last night we had the first snowfall of the year here in Iowa. According to my Minnesota friends, getting more than a dusting of snow during the first snowfall is pretty rare. But there you have it. Last night is snowed for several hours, and this morning I woke up to one of my favorite sights, a sparkling, pristine blanket of white against a bright blue sky.

Anyone who knows me, knows that I am not a winter person. My favorite season is unabashedly summer. This year, though, the coming of snow has filled me with unexpected joy. Today, on the cold, slippery walk to my favorite coffee shop, I marveled at the way the sinking sun (it was only 3:30, and it already had that golden tint of late evening) makes the white snow glow with a warm brilliance. But there was one moment that absolutely took my breath away.

The snow around the base of a tree was completely covered in bright yellow leaves. It was as if the tree had been startled by the coming of winter, tossed its branches up in defeat, and dropped all of its leaves at once. There was a sense of abandon, a shock of color, a gift to the landscape. I was struck by both the randomness and the beauty of it all.

It only took a moment to appreciate it. I stopped. I marveled. I took a few pictures. And then I continued my trudge to the coffee shop. (It was cold). But I have a feeling that the image will stay with my for a long time. Not just because I have pictures of it. That helps, of course, but those photos will slip into the backlog of my photo feed just as easily as the pictures I took of last year's snowfall. There's something metaphorical about it, all of that color against the blank snow, and I haven't quite figured out what it is yet. You could say that I'm just looking for meaning where there is none, but you could say that about anything. I believe that there are pockets of wonder everywhere, and they are different for different people. I might find reverence in a startled tree; someone else might find it on a bustling city street.

I suppose I could impose some sort of meaning onto it. Maybe it struck me because it makes me think of the change I so desperately crave. Maybe it signifies rebirth or death, redemption even. Maybe we are too quick to assign meaning to things. Our reaction to beauty, nature, art, tragedy, doesn't need any modifiers. We don't have to tease out the reason behind feeling something. We just have to feel it.

I wrote this with the intention of understanding my reaction to this moment- why I find it funny and sad all at the same time. Why, when I think about it, I get that ache in my chest that happens whenever I see something beautiful. But then again, beauty doesn't need an explanation, and feelings don't need modifiers. The best we can do is cling to those moments, pull them out again when we need to be reminded that there are still some things we can't explain, and to find some strange comfort in the chaos.