This Fall, I celebrate five years of blogging. I have written tons of web development stuff at Perishable Press, lots of helpful WordPress stuff at Digging into WordPress, some philosophical stuff at mindfeed.org, creative/artistic stuff at Dead Letter Art, jQuery stuff at jQuery Mix, and some business-related web-design stuff at Monzilla Media. Plus a bunch of interviews, guest posts, and other blogging projects. So yeah, lots of blogging and writing during the past five years. And they just flew by.

Despite what the haters may say, there are some tangible benefits to blogging. As I write, I continue to learn a great deal – not just about the fine art of writing, but also about the nature of the audience, social media, and the Web in general. There’s a lot to it, more than you may realize. Looking back during my recent hiatus, I enjoyed the opportunity to reflect on the past and contemplate lessons learned, future goals, and what it all means. Here are some of my thoughts, strategies, and lessons learned after five years of blogging..

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After much deliberation, I have decided to take a short vacation away from the computer. I have been working like a dog recently, and feel that a change of pace would help recharge the ‘ol brain cells. I haven’t decided exactly when it will be, but I am thinking that some time off in August (my favorite month) would be swell. Maybe go to the coast, do some traveling, take a long nap, or whatever. Technically, I haven’t taken a break from blogging here at Perishable Press in almost three years! So it’s definitely time..

Generally, I like to post three or four times a week, depending on my schedule. As most of you know, I like to post quality articles on just about anything related to Web development, graphic design, blogging, social media, SEO, site security, and just about anything related to technology, creativity, and design. Given a two-week hiatus, I am asking for help with around seven or eight guest posts, preferably from a few different authors.

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Among my friends, family, coworkers, and other social acquaintances, there are not many “bloggers.” In fact, there aren’t any. Two or three of my old friends have websites that are updated once or twice per year, but none are actively blogging and sharing their ideas with the online community. Many of my “non-blogging” peeps simply don’t “get it.” To them, the whole idea of consistently updating a website with new material seems like a big waste of time. In fact, on several occasions, I have been confronted with some serious questions and criticisms about the whole “blogging thing.” In this article, I take the time to respond to a few of these complaints and questions, which ultimately expose some of the pros and cons of blogging.

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End of year approaches
and I have had enough
of going absolutely nowhere.
Pushing on
I embrace the coming year
with hope and enthusiasm
and without expectation.

Hammer down
a business pile
dual-action cleanse,
healthy movements daily

mushroom exchange
yesterday

pig titan
at the wheel

rats dropping
from the sky

salacious crumb
fills the mouth

nein numb
finds a meal

up to snuff
or good enough.
you decide.
just can’t get enough
of that double-tough,
rough and tumble
business stuff.
so give me your hand
and get oust.
rrruuuunnn!!!

deep in the trenches of cyberspace
flow to the rhythms of ancient pursuits
the focus and immediacy of now
this very moment
nothingness, details
elaborate, exquisite, atmospheric
details, nonetheless
i embrace the present moment,
transforming chaos into reason

working on it. getting there.
swimming to the other side
of the never-ending pool.

letting go. holding on.
nurturing hope in spite of
relentless pursuits..

almost almost there.
only another step behind
on the treadmill marathon.

Tales from the icebox:

Recall, from June 21st, 1998, the Throat Standard.
Forget, from January 3rd, 1999, the Fantasy.
Enjoy, from June 13th, 1999, Refreshments.
Open, from September 19th, 1999, Business.
See, from September 17th, 2000, Boost.
Embrace, from December 19th, 2001, Lift.
Remember, from July 2nd, 2002, B u r n.
Welcome, from June 16th, 2003, Lorelei.

i heard today that caos is better to live and create in than in a world of pure even, balanced, organized utopia.

Tomorrow changes
moments into memories,
life unfolds anew.

tired, waiting and nursing a coldness while staring at the new reality
that awaits. dropped habits, spent time, and preparations for tomorrow.
make haste, oh most gracious and patient Lord, to grow my life according
to your perfect will.

Interesting… then the problem is likely to be in the HeNe signal chain somewhere. Look at TP1 and TP2 for analog versions of the HeNe laser clock, and TP6 (or TP8?) for the digital version of that clock. It should look like a variable but mostly steady clocking sine wave or square wave.

like fast and stuff with fingers splashing code, head spinz and and.
here again to share the now without reservation a calm deliberation
to accomplish what must be done. that’s all for now — gotta run..
..wake me up when september ends.

I’m a moral in a secret box,
An earthworm, chewing through a sour meal,
A home, still within the daisy farm.
Oh, black ants, parasites, nematodes.
This trunk’s cold with its precious relics.
Jackpot’s dying for foxy diggers.
I’m an end, a joke, a passing fad.
I’ve left my mark to make a payment,
Jumped in the lake with my mom and dad.

i fight a hellish battle everyday.
always something or someone demanding attention,
time, effort. i am most often glad to help, but looking ahead
i see only miles and miles of work, stress, and struggle.
every moment is a profound gift that passes before it is realized.
i am learning how to put the needs of others ahead of my own.
the constant talking may very well drive me insane.

settle into that wretched skin of yours,
but don’t try too hard or get too used it
because you are here today and gone tomorrow,
although it is only in retrospect that time passes quickly.

in the meantime, during the slow wait, time crawls as it flies.
so another year begins — much has changed, and much will change.

i am wide awake, watching, and waiting.

sunrise.

i am not as paranoid as i could be.

bob stepped with caution through the quiet kitchen. the room hummed as he reached into the fridge. "everything is loud — nothing is quiet these days" he thought as the door clapped shut. the floor squeaked as he stepped toward the garden window. he stared at pat, who sat still among the hedgerow. pat understood the traffic, which raced past this hour…

And the purpose is,
swimming through,
muscles into pain,
through which to see,
sailing oceans of life.

A Hemingway scene¹ written in the style of Borges:

I noticed the labyrinth of trees on my left, it appeared as a mysterious maze. I watched as the infinite trees erased the endless fields, and marveled at the ancient, unearthed bonsai tree. I imagined the raging storm that had ripped it from the ground, forcing it back into the bamboo grove. I thought about how its roots were now swirling with dirt, each tiny rock a microcosm of solar systems, as conceived by Hung Pham Lu, the great astronomer. I stared blankly as my mind wandered, transforming the multitude of solar systems into kingdoms of timeless universes, while the sinuous grasses transcended and unified each galaxy among the shifting river platform of elemental earth. I meditated on the river and how it exposed the tangled branches of the disintegrating bonsai tree. Lost in myself, I pondered the flowing currents, like time, slowly enveloping the transient riverbed. Fully absorbed in the moment, I left my physical body and flew down into the provinces of sand and stones below. At one with the illustrious stream, I embraced the chaotic mass of bonsai roots and evaporated as silent leaves drifted past.

¹ Scene adapted from Earnest Hemingway’s In Our Time / Big Two-Hearted River, first published in 1925.

A Borges¹ scene written in the style of Hemingway:

Nick looked for his explanation. He reached into his pack and easily remembered. It felt good. Nick knew the answer. It is not complete. It is not untrue. The answer looked like a big picture of everything, just like Jenkins had said. Nick remembered Jenkins. It had been a long time since he had seen him. Jenkins was not like Bill and John. They said the answer was plain and ordinary. They said the answer was ordinary time. Nick didn’t believe them. He believed Jenkins. Jenkins believed in plenty of different times. Nick thought of the time he first met Jenkins. That was a long time ago on the Columbia River. Nick thought of what Jenkins had told him about the answer. The answer was full of different times. Some times were slow, some times were fast. Other times existed too, but Nick could not think of them. There were many times. They could curve or change into each other, or stop suddenly, never appearing again. Nick tried to think of all times, because that was the answer that Jenkins had told him. Jenkins had told Nick that he couldn’t be in all the times. He could be in one, and not the others. He could be in another one, without Jenkins. He could be in no times, without anybody. Nick was confused. Nick was tired. The answer was there.

¹ Scene adapted from Jorge Luis Borges’ The Garden of Forking Paths, first published in 1941.

trying and enjoying.
advanced subtleness.
trying to change and to change not,
a constant battle wrought beneath the ruins.
self versus sacrifice, or somehwere in-between.

i look toward autumn and hope for the best..
i pray winter finds us safe and in good health.
help me get back to where i once belonged.

like water through sand, so there is plenty space.
you can look it.
insane.
this too will pass.
it is already now.
time manipulation.
through thought.
through change.
through time.
collective.
oneness.
change.
or echoes.