Himself said, 'You've never let that stop you before.'
This got me thinking, dear reader. Why do I plug on with Baxter Street? What's it all about? I mean, really?
A friend recently pointed out that I have too many plates spinning. What with the book writin' and the teachin' and the girl and duck and the business course and the mixed media projects etc.
But when I agreed with her and said I was thinking of closing Baxter Street she was appalled.
'No!' she said. 'I didn't mean you should do that. I love Baxter Street!'
And I thought, Yeah. So do I.
Why do I love this blog?
It's not a money making venture. Never has been. It's unorganised and lacks focus, too. Could do with a good edit most times. It's not even regular. Do you have a clue when it's going to pop up? I don't.
It's not at all snazzy or edgy like all those other blogs out there. They're all so slick and 'down with the kids', they make Baxter Street look like a Girls Own Annual. A bad one.
I rarely get comments either, so it's not about popularity. Or competing for the prestigious Bloggart of the Year. (Is there such a competition?)Possibly at Hogwarts.
|I've been reflecting.|
I recently read a tip from a super duper accomplished blogger (who I really like and admire). She's so good at what she does, she's now a Public Figure. Her blog doesn't even have a spot for comments. Zippo. Imagine!
Her number one tip was — make your reader cry.
According to her stats, the most successful posts are the soppy ones.
Holy cow, I thought. You mean, I have to make my poor dear reader bite her lip and snivel? Moi? Make you miserable, dear one? Just so that my stats will go up?
Well, it's not as if material to break the heart and crush the spirit does not abound. I suppose I could pull out my Irish linen hankies and start penning a weepy; something with a whiff of the mawkish.
But then I realised that my audience and her audience are as different as Cherry Ripes and frozen peas. I might not know you personally, dear reader, but I'm fairly certain you don't come to Baxter Street to 'get weepy'. You come here, I suspect, to be uplifted. To see something pretty. Possibly something frivolous. Maybe you pop by to get a small dose of inspiration.
I will not therefore betray you by cobbling together some gloomy sob story. No siree. That would defeat the whole purpose of Baxter Street.
And with that thought I have attained clarity. I know why I persevere with this blog.
Because it's as uplifting to me as it is to you, dear reader. It is a joy to write. It is a beautiful discipline to look around me and home in on all that is good and positive. The blessings. Even if it's a small vista that I pull together just for you. Or a mountain of pretty clutter that has somehow fallen in sync on the dining-room table.
Beauty is where you find it. I find it here at Baxter Street. I hope you do too, dear reader, and I hope that it gladdens your heart.
Until next time, when once again I have nothing to say,
Yours sweeping the path to The Street