Please Happy

Leaping into cold.
Breathless after run. Naked,
freezing “reset,” Ahhhh.

Just another picture from the place where the family gathers to swim and swim and swim and jump and swim.

My grandfather, Edward James Dwyer, is the last remaining sibling of seven.

His specialty – in addition to storytelling and a signature jump into the lake – is making breakfast at Stony Lake. The kitchen is the same one he cooked in when he was a young man after having helped build the red cabin with his father. His 30+ nieces and nephews, six kids, 12 grandchildren and one great grandchild are lucky to have this place to swim, read, eat, swim, hike, swim, play cards, swim and hang out in the woods.

Thank you, Grandpa!

Visiting the place in Adirondacks where the magic of the wilderness first came alive for me. The lake and cabin and woods of my childhood and my mom’s childhood and my grandfather’s childhood.

In town for a few hours to do work before heading back to the blues and greens.

A friend wrote yesterday to ask about blogging. Should she do it? Who would read it? Why blog…?

My abridged response to her:

Blogging is so awesome. It’s way more time-consuming than I originally thought it would be. I think if you decide to start a blog, you have to realize that it’s going to be a daily commitment, like getting a dog. You have to feed it, take it on walks, cuddle it, think about what food to buy, where to find the most environmentally-sound toys, etc. It’s another full time job.

So go for it!

But, think about your audience. Who are you writing/shooting for and what is the point?

At first, I thought I was writing for potential employers. They’ll see my witty posts and captivating pics, and they’ll want to hire me (still waiting on that one). At times, I was writing to impress the man in my life (if I write a great post, he’ll love me more). Then, I thought I was writing for teachers (you guys did such a good job that I’m now A Blogger!). Now, I try to write for my family, my fiancé, my faraway friends, my future kids and myself. As my mentor Judy Muller said, it’s about noticing things. Then, noticing that you’re noticing.

When I forget that it’s about noticing, not not only do I get depressed that I’m not wildly famous, but my stuff gets self-conscious and boring.

I had to take a break when I got to grad school because I started trying to write about the “future of journalism.” I wanted to be Jay Rosen or Henry Jenkins. But, then I remembered that the stuff I love to write about is the stuff I notice. Like, the reindeer and snowflake ornaments hanging from the banister at my new favorite coffee shop or the light in my cats’ eyes or the little shoots of green growing out of a Los Angeles sidewalk. Beauty in the chaos.

And it became fun again.