The birth or recognition of stories.

blog bird post 6

As previously mentioned I am trained as an art historian. Art History  to me basically means getting to know the stories behind the images. However, images whether they are the iconography of a painting or the visual entity of a dress tell stories on their own. Everything in this world is or can be linked to a story, but it is also a story in itself. Stories are build up out of anecdotes, meaning, and not in the least: words. And words, words are wonderful, they carry so many stories. Encyclopaedia are a curious example of how page long stories can be written to explain just a single word.

Two days ago I started this blog, I gave it a new name, new because I júst came up with it, and new because I created the word. I gave it a Dutch name, since even though I now currently write this blog in English, Dutch is my mother tongue and it seemed like it would be more of a cool indie name if it would be in Dutch, than when I would try to come up with something creative clever artistic and meaningful in English. Also I wanted an option that would be available in the free format without having to put in additives such as 2016 or blog. Lieverleesje did the trick.

Yesterday, when I woke up after the night that I created the blog and filled it with all kinds of words images and thoughts I am passionate about,  I was uncertain of the status of this blog and what it implied. Was it something I enjoyed? Was it something I decided to do on a whim and a product of temporal obsession? Was it some kind of thing I would regret? Would it be something that I would hate to read back? Would it be something that I would dare to share outside of the save environment of my good friends?   I discussed these things with some of my friends and they had quite practical advice: if you don’t like it take it down, or, keep it up but don’t actively promote this, this way it can be without becoming a scary thing, some kind of burden.  I’m not sure what the answers are to all these questions, and I don’t know what the future of this blog will be. But my good attentive friends nearly all commented  on how I crafted the stories with words. The stories are not new. The stories are things that I find on the street, on the web, in my mind. The words are like pencils, I use them to set a setting, a stage, a colour a light. The post are like encyclopaedia pages. They are the entries that you will find in my mind about this particular topic or phrase. No facts given but some kind of insight, however fragile and whimsical it might be. It is there. And now here at (read this in a overly commercial American voiceover voice). I have released the paper bird on a thread. May it be moved by the wind, and teach me how to fly.


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