The craziness of the past two months has finally died down a little. It’s at least died down enough that I can start writing again.

When I don’t write for a long time, it starts to fester in my brain like a ping-pong ball. I have ideas, opinions, things I want to document, and I get so busy that the habit falls from my routine. Then I remember: that’s why I set up the mini-blog! My homegrown answer to losing the beauty that was old school Twitter. Then the guilt sets in about not writing.

So, here I am, back at it.

The last two months have been a Tasmanian devil-style whirlwind of work on several large design projects, new baby duties, tasks involved in my promotion, managing my relationship with my girlfriend, and being a dad to a sixteen year old. I haven’t had time to write, or steal a little time for video games, or communicate with friends.

The friend situation will be addressed in a later post because I have other thoughts that need to be fleshed out.

Watching my new son discover that he has hands, legs, and most prominently, vocal cords has been fun. I use the word “fun” in its purest form. He has a lot to say, and I get a major kick when he expresses it in his own baby-language.

Some consistencies I’ve been able to keep on track are the news and audiobooks. Even though I’ve been busy, I tried my best to be informed. I don’t often make public comments about politics, world events or national headlines, but sometimes I take a step back and think to myself that we’re deep inside what Robert A. Heinlien referred to in his future timeline as “The Crazy Years.”

As of this writing, the Middle East is sinking further into war. Hurricane Helene has devastated the southern states as the death toll continues to rise. The historic presidential race is gearing up for the final stretch. There’s also the rise of artificial intelligence, space tourism and the cyberpunk-style sneak-attacks that left dozens of people wounded or dead in both the Lebanese and Ukraine conflicts.

On the science fiction front, I paused Red Rising to start listening to Livesuit, James S.A. Corey’s latest novella that just released today. It’s the next installment of their Captive’s War series. I enjoyed the first novel of the series way more than I was expecting. It also reassures me that the writing team of James S.A. Corey are certainly amongst my favorite writers. Drawing inspiration from them is so easy that if I find time, I may just do a deep dive online to find any and all craft of writing tidbits from them.

October is my favorite month, and I know it’s cliche but I also love autumn. The fall is my favorite time of the year, and Pennsylvania is especially beautiful. Overcast skies, colorful leaves and everything pumpkin spice!

Here’s the kicker: I got so used to the hot weather this summer. Long stretches of high temperatures, bright sun, no rain. I just don’t feel like I’m in an autumn mood yet, despite all the pumpkin spice.

It’s only October 1st. I’ll have my autumn mojo soon.

It’s been a couple of years since I took the leap and decided to control my online content, and to separate from the big social media companies. I did this for several reasons: keeping up with my mental health, ownership of my content, and curating my own online experiences.

My research led me to the Indieweb and Micro.Blog.

I’m documenting this in the hopes that it will be useful to someone interested in Micro.Blog, especially if they want to cross-post to other sites like Mastodon and Bluesky.

The principles of the Indieweb really spoke to me, and since I had an interest in relearning basic web development, it was the perfect time to adopt some of these principles. I’m far from being an expert in how the plumbing works, and I couldn’t carry a conversation about things like JSON, ActivityPub, etc. I know it’s important and I’m satisfied with the level of knowledge of how it all works.

I’d always liked the idea of microblogging, and while Twitter scratched that itch, it was never fully satisfying. I never warmed up to it, and I was a user early enough to see what Twitter became over the years. Every now and then I check in on the Birdsite, and I’m so glad that I moved on.

After looking into sites like Ghost and Substack, Micro.Blog ultimately won me over. With Micro.Blog’s help, I was able to create my own blog, host it through Micro.Blog, integrate my own domain name, and create my own content. I wanted the option to post both short and long form blog posts and that’s exactly what I set up.

I’ve always been shy, and even though I found it easier to engage with people online when the internet was young, with the rise of social media, I got more reclusive. I felt pressure to respond to posts that mentioned me, as well as in a timely fashion. I’ve always had a busy life, and I always felt guilty (or shy) about responding late, or not responding at all.

There was also something so unattractive about how social media changed the overall online experience, but I couldn’t pull myself away. Things had changed from the days of Geocities and the message board and chat rooms of the 90s, but I didn’t want to miss out. I felt obligated to keep up to date with social media, even though I got no satisfaction out of it.

Finding Micro.Blog and Mastodon changed that perspective for me.

In Micro.Blog I discovered people of different talents posting their slices of life from their corners of the world. If there’s conversation to be had, it is civil, even when there’s a disagreement.

Mastodon is perfect for my obsessive scifi fandoms, and there’s a great writing community. The politics is kept to a minimum and I see all of the geeky content that I’d prefer to see.

I let time pass to allow Bluesky to be more developed, and I discovered that many of my favorite scifi authors and preferred people from Twitter have taken to Bluesky.

The thought of posting to three separate platforms was daunting. Recently I enabled Micro.Blog cross-posting to Mastodon and Bluesky, and its made a world of difference. I can post to Micro.Blog, thus contributing to my overall blogging timeline, while at the same time posting to Mastodon and Bluesky. The best part: I can post and reply separately to either platform.

Also, I don’t feel the same pressures using these platforms as I did with Instagram, Twitter and Facebook. I can read and reply on my own time without stress.

Overall, I’m glad that I found Micro.Blog, and I’m glad for the work involved in building the site for people to write blogs of varying length, as well as engage in a like-minded community. I’m also thankful for the groundwork of the Indieweb community.

My slice of the internet is small, but at least it’s mine.

Her heart stopped beating, and I was frozen at my spot next to her hospital bed. I wasn’t very close to her, even though I spent the last year getting to know her and her life partner. My girlfriend’s elderly aunt was not a shy woman. She was tough as nails, and she was a woman who’s approval was very important to me. It was a strange honor to be present in her final moments.

Earlier in the evening, I was keeping her partner company at their home while her family was at the hospital. These women spent decades together, and exemplified the notion of the old married couple. Their home was well lived-in, and I’d done several handy-man type of tasks around their old house over the past year. Her partner would pass in their home a few weeks later.

Today is June 1st… the first six months of 2024 have been a trip. I can contrast the previous two paragraphs with the following: my girlfriend’s physically challenging pregnancy followed by a difficult labor and delivery. My son was born almost three weeks ago.

That’s also the last time I slept for more than a couple of hours.

Life has been crazy this year. Even though I felt like I was prepared, each twist and turn hit me. From house preparations (including a bathroom renovation), to helping my 16 year old also deal with these changes, to career challenges, and everything in between, I feel surprisingly fine. This could be the lack of sleep talking.

This brings me to blogging and writing. I chose not to share every single detail of the past six months. I felt like some things need to be kept offline. Plus, social media sharing has never been a priority. At the same time, the craziness has not yielded a lot of time for writing. All of my creative energy has been allocated to my day job.

While I’m ashamed to say that fiction writing has taken a bit of a back seat for now, it’s on my mind every day. One of the reasons this blog exists is to keep me accountable, and to share this experience. While this has also fallen by the wayside, I have not given up on writing, and my dream of writing science fiction and sharing it is as strong as the day I decided this was a life goal.

I don’t know what the next six months looks like, but I look forward to them: summer, autumn (finally!) and Christmas. I’ll get back on track with writing while living my life. I’ll work on my relationship while we raise our son, and I’ll help my daughter with the next phase in her life.

Here’s to the next six months.

Today I turned 46. I haven’t blogged since May, which is par for the course, whenever I start a blog. That is not to say that I don’t finish what I start. My full-time job runs on meeting deadlines. When it comes to self-imposed deadlines, I can certainly make improvements.

However, my excuses are legitimate. Life got so busy that I fell out of habit with micro.blog and Mastodon. That is not to say that I haven’t been producing creative work. I’ve produced a lot over the past five months. I just haven’t been sharing my experiences, which I regret, now that I think about it.

My life has changed so much since May. I am not going to share every detail right now (which is counter-intuitive to why this blog exists) but, I can share a few things. Since no one reads this but me, I’m comfortable with sprinkling these details in the coming days and weeks, as I try my hardest to get back into a regular writing habit.

In the creative work area: over the summer I made a conscious decision to focus on graphic design, as several major projects for work required a lot more creative energy. That decision extended to blogging… a decision I now regret. In any case, I focused on what I can do to elevate the level of design that I can produce. I took deep dives into design history. I dissected and studied the work of my favorite designers and researched decision making, especially in layout design and creative theory. Putting those things into practice was tough, but I pushed myself. My hardest critic (me) was not fully satisfied, but this endeavor is still a work in progress.

While my fiction writing aspirations took a break, they never fully left my mind. I occasionally write down story ideas and have been saving them. This is a habit that has never been broken. I’m still taking in a healthy dose of science fiction as I move forward. Science fiction writing is my dream, and it’s something that will never waver, no matter what is going on in my life. Starting is the hardest part, though.

Emotional work: I don’t feel comfortable sharing many details about this, but I can say that I’ve made some progress. I’m still learning, and still trying to understand how to navigate emotions, expression and relationships (both personal and professional.) Sometimes I feel like I’ve made no progress at all. The ebb and flow of emotional management is sometimes very tricky.

Today I turned 46 years old. My life has changed significantly over the past few months, and it’s only going to continue in that direction. The point I have yet to make is that this is a GOOD direction. I’m happy, and I wouldn’t change any of it. I have more musings on turning 46, but I will save that for another post. I have people who love me, and I have things to do.

It’s good to be back!

Discussing politics or current issues online is not my style. I wrote this post last week in the midst of the shooting in Allen, Texas.

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Yesterday I came across an opinion piece about mass shootings published in an arts/music magazine based in northern California. In a nutshell, the article was suggesting that maybe it’s time to get unhinged about gun violence. It struck a nerve with me because of its abrasive tone and unique message. The writer of the article was clearly upset, and it showed.

I stumbled upon the comments section, and spotted one that I found so appalling I reread it several times to make sure I understood what the commentator was saying. Reading opposing viewpoints is one thing, but the more I read it, the more it ticked me off.

I was so upset that I made an account so I can respond to the comment.

I usually don’t post emotionally driven, knee-jerk reactions online. It went against my instinct, but I couldn’t help myself. I went after the commenter and let loose.

Afterwards, I started to feel guilty. I had broken a key online rule I follow to the letter, which is Wheaton’s Law that states “Don’t be a dick.” I’m always considerate of my online behavior. I make sure I check myself before writing an email, tweet or any comment. I had lost my cool on a small, local area arts magazine, and it didn’t sit well with me.

Deciding to write a follow-up comment after eight hours had passed, I went back to the article to write another comment. For some reason, I can’t seem to post another comment. There’s no indication that I’ve been banned or blocked. My comment is still visible. There were several other “unhinged” comments that seem more abrasive than mine, but it looks like I won’t get the chance to post my follow-up.

The follow-up was more of an apology, as I felt that while the spirit of the article suggested that it may be time to be ‘unhinged’ about gun violence, unleashing my unchecked agression on another reader, and exposing such content to other readers was not cool.

It turns out, the article was written and published in June of 2022.

The article was so evergreen that I thought it had just been written, even though it didn’t mention any mass shootings in particular. The author simply reposted the link on their social media amid Saturday’s mass shooting. So, it’s quite possible that no one aside from the magazine staffer who monitors online comments was the only one who saw my unhinged comment.

My take-away from this experience is that I felt guilty putting a piece of content in place I normally skip over. On social media, you can avoid most knee-jerk reactions. My comment wasn’t as bad as others I’ve stumbled upon, but I felt guilty for losing my cool in a small online environment where my comment would easily be seen.

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Closing thoughts: I felt like documenting this because we all make mistakes. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to even put this post in the world, but I’ve had time to think about it, and I feel that it points to a real and persisting problem online. We may have the power to turn it off, but this problem isn’t new, and it’s become accepted. I left Twitter mostly for this reason. I’m not proud of my outburst. I tried fixing it, but I wasn’t able to. Maybe this is the next best thing.

Imagine you are stuck behind a very tall wall on three sides. You don’t have the option of going left or right to go around the wall. You can stay behind the wall, or move backwards.

The x-factor is you have a third option: you have the ability to jump over the wall. It’s an ability you were born with. No running start needed. Just crouch down, launch your body upward and clear the wall.

But, you can’t. Something is holding you back. It’s not a villain, or a physical restraint, or even gravity. You just can’t do it.

This is how I feel every day when it comes to self-expression, and to be bold and have no filter. I’ve struggled with it for as long as I can remember. So, naturally I decided to become an artist, graphic designer, and a science fiction writer.

I’ve read a lot of books on creativity and spent years looking for the answer to my problem. The most common things I found were as follows: fear, lack of confidence, overthinking. There’s more, but I think those three pertain to me the most.

I think fear is the most troublesome for me. I’m afraid to express myself and be authentic because I struggle with being vulnerable, and I fear being judged. I worry about what others would think and say. I shouldn’t, but I do. These thoughts paralyze me and halt my progress.

If the goal is to be authentic, then maybe I’ll take a small leap and share something I don’t talk a lot about: I was beaten as a child. When I was hit, I was not allowed to cry. I’ve told this to several therapists over the years, and they’ve never jumped on it. I never understood why. I’m not even an armchair psychologist, but I’m convinced there’s a link between those childhood experiences and my trouble to express myself.

This leads to lack of confidence, and I’ll lump in self-esteem into the mix. For me, confidence is like a giant ocean with waves that go high in the air. Some days its high, some days its low. I’ve read that childhood trauma can cause self-esteem issues. I feel like this is always going to be an issue. Also in my experience, I think “taking action” is the counter-move to self-esteem & confidence issues. Constant momentum in proving to yourself that you can make art, write and be creative feels like it’s the key.

Overthinking: all I can say is that my brain can run with racing thoughts at warp speed. I haven’t done any research into this, but I feel like this is related to fear. When my anxiety kicks in, it’s racing thoughts that also pile on as though I’m on the receiving end of a negative thought assembly line.

Having just typed out all of this, I realize that I’ve held the same job as a graphic designer and creative director for over twenty years. I’ve struggled a lot with these issues during my career and somehow I’m still here. My dayjob isn’t easy, but I find ways to make it work.

I’ve dealt with these struggles since before college. I’m 45 years old now, and there’s no magic formula that I’ve been able to find that will help me get over this. I have a lot to say. I have opinions. I have truths to express. Sharing the bit about my childhood was a struggle in of itself. Maybe that’s progress.

So, here I am, at the wall on three sides, and I can’t go around. I can stay (bad idea.) I can go backward (worst idea.) Or, I can use my natural-born ability to leap over it. If I can harness the power (of confidence) there’s a forth option: reach back with a fist break through the wall.

After my most recent blog post, where I had the momentum to write a blog post semi-daily, a few things happened all at once: my day job exploded with deadlines, my home life got increasingly busy, and then I got sick. To put it more poetically, I fell ill. When I started this blog back up, I vowed to continue writing, and that did not happen.

I don’t normally discuss health issues, and I won’t get into details here. All I’ll say is that I never felt so bad that it put me out of commission. I’ve always been able to power through any sort of ailment. To be honest, I don’t normally get ailments anyway, so “staying in bed” was a new thing for me. I was offline, and didn’t have the energy to write.

The past couple of weeks was something of a test, and I feel I didn’t do well. I should have written, even if I didn’t feel like I had the time. Writers find a way to write, no matter what. I know I should give myself a break, but I feel like this is a repeating pattern going back the past couple of decades.

Now that I’ve acknowledged the fact that I haven’t written anything significant, I’ll be going back to the drawing board… or keyboard.

One of my favorite writers, Harlan Ellison, rejected the term “sci-fi” because in his experience it was a restrictive term. It was a term used to describe pulpy, one-sided hero vs alien stories with no substance or creativity. Ellison had a hand in turning “sci’fi” into what science fiction is today, and I’m fully acknowledging this accomplishment.

That was Mr. Ellison’s experience. It’s not mine.

Some of my first memories were going to the theater in 1983 to see Return of the Jedi. As an 80s child, I was exposed to so many space-faring books, TV shows, cartoons, movies, toys and video games. I was an only child, and I had a lot of friends who were into these same things. When I was by myself, if I felt troubled, sad, or happy, I could always get lost in whatever world I felt like wandering in.

My father passed away in 1989. For some reason, I was drawn to Star Trek: The Next Generation. I had already been watching it, but the show offered an escape from the sadness of that tragedy. It was comforting, and it helped me deal with the loss.

Throughout the 90s, as I was growing up, traveling, meeting people, having fun, working, going through heartache or depression, graduating high school and moving away from home for college, science fiction was still a part of my life.

In good times, I played video games with friends, and spent time with online friends arguing about Star Wars and Star Trek. In not-so-good times, I shut the world away and lost myself in the TV and movies of the time. I had tons of 6-hour VHS recordings of Star Trek and Mystery Science Theater that I could put in the VCR and let the world wash away.

There are key moments in my life where I can pinpoint which science fiction I was consuming at the time.

When my daughter was born in 2008, I was obsessed with Firefly, Star Trek: Enterprise, Doctor Who, and couldn’t help but daydream about optimistic futures.

I was heavily into The Expanse books and TV show when I was promoted to creative director in 2017. It was a time in which the influence of science fiction and design creativity was in overdrive.

The Wayfarer series of optimistic space novels got me through my divorce in 2019. I don’t know why I picked up those books back then. Just like in 1989, I was drawn to them, and it was the perfect fit of stories for that time in my life.

When I met my girlfriend in late 2021, the world was weird. I was all about the new Dune movie, experiencing Battlestar Galactica for the first time, and The Expanse novel series, which is a major influence on my writing, was coming to an end.

The takeaway of the final Expanse book was about humanity moving forward and making new connections while rediscovering itself, which was polarizing because my life was also moving forward, and I was rediscovering myself. Its an amazing personal parallel as I was falling in love with a woman who was helping me move forward. I’ll always associate one of my favorite books with the woman I love.

Some form of science fiction has always been a part of my life. Even in times when I was distracted or too busy to pay attention, it was always there when I returned. I can always count on science fiction to cheer me up, make me ponder our place in the universe, or escape to adventures in the stars.

A long time ago I decided I wanted to write science fiction and hopefully be published. My goal is to create stories that will also help someone through their troubles or be part of a person’s joy when they relax and want to be entertained. It will be my way of paying it forward.

My first month on Micro.blog was amazing. I found that it was a community full of people who seemed calm and in control. Any hot takes were constructive, and conversation was civil. It wasn’t noisy and I could walk away for a few days and not feel like I missed something.

I like the “micro” aspect of Micro.blog, but I also like the fact that if a longer blog post is necessary, there’s an option to create it. That long post is also hosted on the user’s blog.

Micro.blog gives me what I’ve been wanting: a small blog that is easy to update, simple to manage, and the best part of all, what I post is my own. There are no corporations, no algorithms, no contending with curated content. It’s a small corner of the internet that I can call my own.

Building my blog was a challenge, as it jumpstarted my journey into relearning web development. Some things certainly have changed in the 10+ years that I’ve been away from it. I still have a lot to learn, but it was a good jumpstart. Building the blog helped me feel accomplished.

Micro.blog also helped me understand that there is a better way to engage in the social aspect of the internet, without the ugliness that is automatically accepted on places like Twitter.

My migration from Twitter to Micro.blog (and Mastodon) was in response to the downward spiral that Twitter has become. A lot of people are happy with watching Twitter die. I’m sad for its demise. I refuse to use the Twitter app because it was always unusable. I used a third party app, but now that they’ve restricted the use of third party apps, I can no longer use Twitter in the customized way that I prefer.

I’ll miss the shared experiences and real-time reactions to national and world events that came with using Twitter. I’ll also miss being one-step away from my favorite writers, artists and other interesting people. I’ll miss using Twitter to learn from writers who dispensed wisdom on craft and creativity. Over the years I’ve amassed a large collection of micro-lessons on writing and design.

Even though I’m introverted and I didn’t engage much, Twitter helped me feel connected. One aspect of the internet that I’ve loved since the early 90s was the fact that I could connect with people half a world away. Twitter elevated that curiosity.

The purpose of going off the rails for the last three paragraphs was to remind myself of a very important lesson: systems like Twitter can always be taken away. Leaving such a collective was difficult, but I feel better for it.

Micro.blog helped me remember there are better ways to have an online presence and not put my eggs in one basket. I move onward with cautious optimism.

Some of my favorite writers include Chuck Wendig, John Scalzi, Catherynne Valenti, Delilah S. Dawson and Wil Wheaton. What they all have in common is they also write great essays, blogs and tweets that people respond to. They are able to express thoughts and emotions with so much potent energy that it’s impossible to NOT read, because they also keep it interesting.

In Chuck Wendig’s blog Terrible Minds, he defines voice as follows: “The writer’s voice is the thing that marks the work as a creation of that writer and that writer ONLY. You read a thing and you say, “This could not have been written by anybody else.” THAT is voice.

He further states “It’s also a component of practice and maturity.”

That’s the part that hurt the most to read. I already knew this. In fact, I’ve experienced that in my creative life.

I’ve been a graphic designer for over twenty years. I know about artistic voice. I understand that these things take time and effort. In my case, it takes constant time and effort. To get to where I am today, I’ve had to grind for a long time. In fact, sometimes I still feel like I’m grinding. For me, graphic design is a constant creative struggle, but I’ve found ways to punch through and persevere, with (mostly) positive results.

So, why do I feel like finding my writing voice so difficult?

My fiction, my prose, my blogs… there’s a lack of substance, emotion, punch, zeal, authenticity, anything to make it interesting. Even in the handful of articles that have been published, I feel like I could have done a better job of making it more interesting. Granted, in those cases, my editors were a big help.

Mr. Wendig also states that we mimic our writer influences, because we write like those writers we most frequently read. Eventually we stop doing that, but their influence can still exist in our writing, and that’s okay. I know that I don’t write like Chuck, or Mr. Scalzi, or Ms. Valenti, but they have certainly been influential.

So, this is why I’m here: to sharpen my writing teeth (is that a thing?) To spurt out this boring garbage in the hopes that someday when I write, my true self will emerge, and I won’t have these thoughts of “how does Scalzi do it!?” …and just let my voice flow on the page.

Time, effort, and confidence. We’ll get there. Hopefully.

Winter is not my favorite season. Living in eastern Pennsylvania, late March and April feels like a dead zone of seasonal change. Most plants and trees are bare or dead, and the sky is always gray. There is a beauty to it that I love, though I feel I’m in the minority with that opinion.

This was not a typical winter and I feel compelled to document it.

My life has changed significantly over the past few years, from going through a long marriage, separation and divorce, to being single, to meeting a woman who is fully supportive of my goals. I’m still not used to the feeling of having someone on my side, in my corner cheering me on.

Professionally, I continue to tackle new challenges in graphic design. I’ve been able to learn new formats and make them work to my advantage, while continuing to deliver a level of work that I can say that I’m proud of. It’s always hard work to keep deadlines, and adjust to the fast-pace of the office. Sometimes I forget about my atypical career path. There was a time where I questioned if I was ever going to be a “real graphic designer.” It’s been two decades. It’s safe to say that I am, and that I always have been since day one.

This winter saw the rekindling of my interest in writing. Before December, even my interest in science fiction writing had waned. I’ve gone through this ebb and flow of writing interest before, but this is the first time in a long time that I’ve taken action to foster it. I’m excited to see what I will produce and how far I can take things with this blog. I haven’t had a corner of the internet in a long time.

Taking further action in relearning web development and being inspired by the indiweb, I felt inspired to put these skills to use as I learn them. Starting this blog is a source for creating a writing habit and creating accountability. It will serve as a timeline of improvements and changes.

My takeaway from this past winter is a lesson that I’ve learned over and over. Taking action and being consistent is key to building the artistic and productive life you want. It’s not enough to want it. You have to take the necessary steps to make them happen, no matter what.

Special sidenote: If there’s anyone in your life who doubts you, doesn’t support you, or thinks any of your aspirations are something to make fun of… eject them from your life. Plain and simple. You don’t need them. It’s hard enough to live and work with someone who does not support you. Trust me.

It’s been a wild winter, with no signs of slowing down.

There’s something about getting a new computer or device with a clean HD that feels so satisfying. I never import items from previous devices. It may seem counterproductive, but I love a clean slate.

Same goes with platforms. I’m starting over in my writing journey on a new platform, and I’m excited. Starting this blog in Micro.blog has helped me rediscover web development. I’ve also learned about the IndieWeb and have become more invested in the Fediverse.

My blogging journey began in the days before it was referred to as “blogging”. In the late 90s, I had writings and “news” I’d share on websites like Geocities and Tripod. In the early 2000s, I moved to OpenDiary and LiveJournal. In the mid 2000s, I had my very own dotcom for my design portfolio, as well as a section for blogging. I fell out of the blogging habit after a few years, and picked it up again with Tumblr in the early 2010s, in part to support my new-found interest in science fiction writing.

The Tumblr blog is a spotty personal history archive, and not at all ideal for my writing goals moving forward.

I would be remiss if I didn’t mention Twitter. What attracted me to Twitter in 2008 was the whole “microblog” concept. I understand the nature of social media evolving, especially Twitter, but I was never on-board with what Twitter became, and my use diminished over the last five years. Elon Musk’s involvement cemented my decision to stop using Twitter as my self-expression outlet.

Through the first days of the Elon Twitter takeover, I kept stumbling on posts about starting a blog and owning your own content. Most writers have their own website and blog anyway, so I started looking into starting my own.

Finding the writing community (as well as the Scifi fandom community) on Mastodon was a wake-up call that Twitter, Instagram and Facebook were not the only robust social networks out there. The concept of the Fediverse attracted me to Mastodon even more. I could own my own content, and not rely on the big social network’s ridiculous set of rules, algorithms and subscription models. Mastodon feels like a good way forward, but it wasn’t helping me with blogging.

Then I discovered Micro.blog.

While I’m still trying to figure things out, Micro.blog has ignited a spark in blogging. I had already decided to return to blogging after I left Twitter, but I felt like Tumblr wasn’t cutting it. So far, Micro.blog has what I’ve been looking for. I’m not sure if I’ll continue to use it as I explore other blogging options, but I’m glad I found it. Micro.blog has helped rekindle my interest in web development as well.

In the spirit of not putting all of my eggs in one basket, and owning the content I create, I’m excited about the future of blogging, writing and I can’t wait to see where this all goes.

There’s a big difference between critique, criticism and judgement.

These three barriers have always played a factor in my continuing struggle to express myself, or even share my art, writing and design. In art school, I was taught that critiquing was a part of the process. Over twenty years in the graphic design industry has helped build a thick skin, but thickness can only run so deep. A thick skin has helped in dealing with criticism and judgement, but again, it still plays a factor in my ability to express and share.

Critique in the creative field is useful information. While I can’t help but take some of it seriously, I understand that in most cases, its not personal. I learned early in college that critiquing is meant to make the project better. I’ve learned to accept critiquing as part of the process, and in most cases I seek it out in many stages of a project. I feel that type of feedback contributes to a better creative outcome.

There is such a thing as ‘useless critiquing’ which I’ve also learned to detect over the years. This is something that just comes with experience. At the same time, I’ve learned to critique other’s work. I do my best to give useful information that will help the artist. It’s never about the person.

Criticism is where we get into dicey territory. The difference between useful critique and criticism can sometimes be blurry. Here is where it starts to get personal, because criticism usually has a negative tone. Most people who dish out criticism are not trained artists. That’s not to say that a trained artist can’t criticize. This is where I feel the line is blurry. I’ve dealt with criticism as a designer as well, and I’ve learned to detect the difference between the two. That doesn’t make it any easier to deal with.

Criticism by others has hindered a lot of my personal creative output. I feel like criticism is the unfiltered version of critique, because a lot of initial emotions are expressed when someone is critical of a piece of art. They make that opinion known. Part of my personal barrier in this instance is my own brain telling me that someone will not like this piece of art, design or writing. While I feel like this is different from the stabbing knife of the self-critic, I feel they work together to stab at my love and enthusiasm of the piece of creative output I’m trying to share.

Judgement is criticism’s partner in crime. I understand the dictionary definition of judgment does not cover this. I’ve been in many situations where I’ve seen people judge others for their creative output. This is the worst type of criticism because it’s often harsh and useless. They make fun of the artist or person who dared to share a piece of art, writing, a song, a baked good, or anything that was made by hand, with love and curiosity. There is a special type of sadness involved in this, because often the people who put these judgements into the world are people who don’t make anything. They will never pick up a brush or an instrument. They don’t know how to appreciate anything. All they know how to do is point, laugh, and try to take the artist down.

I’ve personally experienced this many times in my life. I feel like I’ve heard it enough that it seeps into the part of my brain that helps build that barrier. It’s an emotional pain that lingers and doesn’t let go. It helps the inner-critic stab at the meat of my enthusiasm and love of art and writing. Judgement offers a chance to easily let go my desire to express. It takes over and hinders my ability to create. It cascades into a type of shame that being vulnerable is a sin.

Vulnerability takes courage. What I often forget is that I can’t control what others will say. There will always be people who will criticize and judge my creative output. They will say what they feel, whether its good or bad. If it’s good, it will serve to help me connect and create more. If it’s bad, I have to make sure that what is being said is useful critique. If it’s criticism and judgement, then I have to learn to create a new barrier; where I let their negativity wash through me (much like fear) because at the end of the day, I made something and they did not.