Tag Archives: quest

To blog, or not to blog

That is the question.


You see, I started this blog more than six months ago already, on July 10th, 2015. The main purpose for my blog, initially, was to bring my book, Dancing Gabe: One Step At A Time, to the blogosphere and tell you about it… about Gabe… and about me. I think the blog achieved the purpose.

Once the book was out, then a new purpose was added: to tell you about the book’s events–46 book signing events and 23 media interviews in four months–and performance, using photographs, videos, articles, and interviews. Once again, I think the blog achieved the purpose.

But now that the excitement has abated after the Christmas rush, and my ” book” calendar seems rather uninteresting–compared to its first four months–I am at a crossroads once again, as I was when I wrote my first blog posts. Of course, that is not to say that my passion and enthusiasm for Dancing Gabe has waned, far from it, and I will continue to post about book events. But now, what?

I’ve visited hundreds of blogs since my first blog post, curious to learn what you write about, maybe to see if I could follow your examples. Wow! So much talent, creativity, imagination, and inspiration out there. Congratulations! All of them rather intimidating for a rookie blogger. But also most inspiring.

So, I’ve decided “to blog.” My goal is simple: one post a week. The challenge it seems: “What to blog about?” But it’s only a challenge because of wondering what you–the potential reader–want to read about. Taken from my perspective–the blogger–things become much simpler, clearer. I’ve filled notebooks with musings, haikus, reflections, and snapped photographs for many years. I will continue to do so. I’ve also started a novel (before writing Dancing Gabe), which I’ve revisited recently with the aim of completing it. I’m also an avid reader. I’m a musician too (well, I try). I’ll blog about that and about life in general. The purpose: feel good about it, and hopefully provide words and photos that may inspire.

Fog clears slowly
Thoughts emerge, finally…
As they do every January
From this deep darkness
Cold, lonely hibernation
Usual, expected
Heavy blanket wrapped tightly
Constricting, stifling.
Breathe again, smile
Laugh again, sing
Love again, live.