If I do not write to you I will write to no one, and if I write to no one then you see I write to no one. It is a very sorry state of affairs when there is no one on the other end. If a man pens a letter in the forest and no one reads it, has he written it?It's a question I ask myself, as I write this letter to no one. Everyone's blogging, but is anyone reading?
from Disobedience, by Jane Hamilton
Well, yes -- I am. In the end, I write for myself, whether it's here on this Web page, or on the moist handmade-paper pages of the journal my sister gave me. The cover is made from a recycled purple sari, and when I angle it sideways in the lamplight, just the right way, it suddenly turns orange and gold like sunset.
And if you are reading this, maybe you find it interesting. Or not. ;-) Maybe I'll improve over time, and the newer entries will be visibly more entertaining than the old ones. Maybe, someday, I'll have found a new voice, or a new vocabulary, or given up prose altogether and devoted myself to off-color limericks and ale-drinking songs. Whatever it is, I hope I like it.