It totally escaped me that yesterday was my one year anniversary of writing this blog. And oddly I remembered as I was vacuuming my carpet today (evidently I do a lot of serious pondering while sucking up a week's worth of dog hair and dust). It got me thinking about what this blog has meant to me over the last year.
I'm older, and I hope a little wiser. In the last year I've had a bought with depression; struggled with Fibromyalgia; traveled through the state of Oregon; seen my children grow; learned to knit; and have taken hundreds of photographs and improved my skill - and this blog has allowed me to show off a little - and I posted through it all. It has pushed me to read more, experience more, and write A LOT more. I have spent time carefully crafting descriptive sentences, developing witty captions and finding subjects I hope others would find interesting to read about.
Blogging fuels my creativity and gives me a place to relieve stress. It sends me out in search for inspiration. It's not a knitting blog or a food blog. It isn't about one subject like graphic design. It is not used as a diary, describing every mundane thing during the coarse of my day. It is whatever I want it to be. After sifting through a year's worth of posts, I have found that I have stayed true to what I originally set out to do with my writings: sketch life. Sketch MY life, a little glimpse into the happenings of a normal person living a normal, but valuable, life. And in my eyes, it is becoming a beautiful work of art.