Blurry and imperfect, me and Nina Beana in Portsmouth New Hampshire for ETA last Fall.
It's been a while since I've ranted frothily here, so in the spirit of intimacy, I'm going to give it a go.
I have crushed on many bloggers and artists since my capacity to virtually love increased one millionfold six years ago. And the subject has come up among peers again and again, the notion that how someone appears online is never who they really are. I don't want to spoil anyone's lofty vision of anyone else, because I believe there is a purpose in idolotry to a certain extent. It helps us strive to claim that power within us that they seem to personify and reflect back at us.
[Insert random thought] If it wasn't late at night, I would go snapping photos of how imperfect my own life is to demonstrate. Baseboards undusted for ....er... months? Laundry heaped up. Gunk on fridge shelves. A checkbook with gaps between entries for things I know I've forgotten and need to check online banking to decode. Piles. More piles. Half finished supplies orders. Children's toys all over the floor of my studio. My studio space is appearing extremely un-sacred in this moment. Nine large post-its of to-do's. In a world where so many of us value that one has one's proverbial shit together, I am earning about a C minus. But still, I feel valued, adored even, in this space. Which perhaps goes to show that the gunk doesn't matter as much as the heart, but still. I know because I'm guilty of it, too: we project perfection. But I digress yet again.
Here's my beef, and it has nothing to do with comparing our weaknesses to what we perceive a virtual acquaintance's strengths to be. What is disheartening is that I've experienced with several real life friends a false sense of intimacy with me because they follow my blog or tune into my feeds at social network sites. Even my own mother is guilty of it. (Hi, Mom.) Twice in a month I've lost touch with a couple of friends that do not have the online presence that I do. When I've shared with them that I feel disconnected, both of them explained that they have felt connected to me because they read my blog or posts, etc.
This leaves me sad. The reason is because a virtual experience is no substitute for really knowing someone or checking in with them to connect, at least voice to voice, if not face to face. While life is full of busy challenges that I can more than relate to, I just want to point out-not that I want more from these folks-but that it isn't the same. Appreciating the work Misty Mawn does (one of my artistic heroes) is not the same as telling her so in a personal email (at very least). Seeing my grieving friend pour out her heart on her blog about loss is not the same as calling her and asking if she wants to cry in my ear. Admiring my cousin's new baby on Facebook is not the same as making time to meet her or hear her cooing on the other end of the phone line.
I'm asking myself to take a deeper look at how much I rely on technology to keep me connected. I'm happy to report that I have dates to camp with an amazing close group of warrioresses at the end of the month, catch a show with a friend I have a mostly virtual relationship with, help another one pack to move to her dream home, and sit in sacred ceremony with a handful of local medicine people mid-month. If not for these "dates" on the calendar, I think I'd be feeling very out of balance.
Blessed we are to have this space to connect to each other online, but I am also responding to a wild, deeeep yearning within to get my arms around those I hold dear, kiss their babies, take them food, send them on their journeys, see them loving their partners, and touch their art in person.
Because I'll be at June and September SAW and October SERENDIPITY, I will be face-to-face with many of you. And that's how I like to connect best. I like to hug and cuddle, what can I say? Blessed, blessed, blessed. We are so blessed.
The Mystic Vixen formerly and affectionately known as Blue Poppy,
Elizabeth Macrellish, and I, Squam Art Workshops Vendor Night, 2009.
