How to write the first one? This is not a mere rhetorical question. For quite a while, I’ve been pondering on content and style of my first blog post. It was supposed to be catchy, concise, yet diverting and somewhat profound – but not too profound at the same time. Every ‘first time’, however, tends to be more important in the beginning than it seems in retrospective, isn’t it?
Still I was curious and took a look at first blog posts by other writers that I appreciate and read regularly. To my surprise, most of them were nowhere to be found, they had obviously been deleted in the course of time. May it be due to blog migration or any other (non-)technical reasons: In many cases, the first steps of blogging disappeared without trace.
This (unexpected) finding made me think of contemporary archive theory, operating under the hypertrophic name of archivology (Derrida and so forth): Those guys pretty much hug the idea that an archive is mainly about the deleted, not about the preserved stuff. It’s about the selection process, about discarding and picking out, about inevitably leaving a void.
I have to admit, I kind of like this thought, despite its rigorous and rather non-nostalgic character. This concept gives back a notion of ephemerality to the seemingly stable and all-embracing vision of the archive. Well, it somehow fits the transitory and fleeting character of the internet in general. And… it also keeps me from being (too) awestruck by the first blog post. How lovely.
Therefore, in short: This little thing here called weblog is intended to be about the great loves in life, literally and figuratively. Together with my boyfriend Óskar, I’d like to pursue some paths of the here and now, as well as retrospective or prospective views: about clothing and favourite looks, about travelling and our sometimes nomadic life between the places we call home, about tasty things, decorative or peculiar art, and all the small, intriguing ruptures of thought and perception in daily life. I look forward to sharing these moments and impressions from now on.
Or, put another way: Perhaps it’s all about limited excess, archiving superficial thoughts with a new livery and picking blueberries in due season. (Or so.)