Thursday, 10 May 2012

Looking for me? I'm underground.

Yesterday I picked a weed from the dirt in our driveway and I thought, that would be a cool photo. I should put it on my blog, make it symbolise something.

That's the beauty of blogs .. you can mould them like clay, into anything you want.

You know what happens, if you keep blogging? You. You happen ... you cannot help but show yourself, what you think, maybe even who you are. It doesn't always have to be deep or heartwrenching .. it just has to be - you. It might not be easy but it's simple.

Blogging cuts through the cyberworld like a machete. It's so cool - like a secret. I love blogging with a passion. I cannot not do it. My glasses are blog-coloured. When I publish a post, a whole weight has been lifted and I feel lighter as I walk through the world again. Walking through the physical world is tough .. it's full of sharp edges and trapdoors. Sucks.

An email came through to me last night from a 13-year old blogger called Ellie ... she blogs about bullying, self-esteem, and "making a difference in the world." Asked me if she could interview me on her blog .. of course. (I'll link her here, once I get HER MUM'S PERMISSION.)

Today the winners of the Sydney Writers Centre Blogging Awards were announced. I have won my category of Best Personal/Lifestyle Blog. And I have also won the whole thing ... Edenland has been named Best Australian Blog 2012.

This makes me feel anxious and nervous. Also thrilled. A bit terrified ... I have a highly personal blog. GREAT. Can I have a do-over?

I'm not used to being good at things. For many years in my life, I was good at nothing and struggled with everything. At the back of my head, I would think ... what if, one day, I could be ok and maybe write?

My grandmother would look me in the eyes when I was a girl and tell me I was a writer. I believed her. I don't know how she knew.

I would like to thank the American infertility blogging community, specifically Melissa Ford from Stirrup Queens. The entire blogosphere can learn something from the way those bloggers help and support each other. They held my hand in 2007 when I went through treatments to fall pregnant with my second son Rocco. And then when I was pregnant. And then when my husband Dave was diagnosed with cancer a few days before the birth and my metaphorical car drove off the cliff and crash landed, bursting into flames and I emerged form the wreckage an angry, jaded woman.

Wait, where was I? See ... being a blogger means you hold the hand of the reader and walk them down some paths. Terrain. Rubble. Wreckage. Fields of flowering weeds plucked from your driveway with the roots attached and you hold one with a bunched fist with your tattoo showing. Symbolising triumph.

The Australian blogging scene is coming into its own. I feel so lucky to be a part of it.

Thanks mum for not being cranky when I wrote so much. Thanks Linda and Leigh for willing me back home last year. Thanks Mrs Woog for making me take my blogging seriously. Thanks to all of the judges of the Sydney Writers Centre Blog Awards. I'm kind of honoured.

And thank you for reading my blog. What's going to happen next? Can you pass me the popcorn?

I hope I go ok in all the media interviews ... really wish I was a recovering brain surgeon, instead. BUMMER.

Rose from the Sydney Writers Centre asked me for a headshot this week. Headshot? Sure, I'll have a look.

I found this:

No, not suitable. How about this?

An impromptu beach rodeo *probably* wasn't what she had in mind.


... so I was like, no way! And she was all, UH-HUH!

I can never take myself too seriously. Life is too important for that.

Finally I emailed Rose a selfie I took at the Eminem concert last year, which she used.  It's entirely appropriate, considering I blast Eminem before I write most of my blog posts. It ignites something in me, gets my critic out of the way. Gives me permission to be bold.

(PS Media .. please go gentle! I'll bring lube. xx)

“I want to thank anyone who spends part of their day creating. I don’t care if it’s a book, a film, a painting, a dance, a piece of theater, a piece of music. Anybody who spends part of their day sharing their experience with us. I think the world would be unlivable without art.” - Stephen Soderburgh's Oscar acceptance speech in 2000 for Traffic.


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Write to be understood, speak to be heard. - Lawrence Powell

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