When I started writing here, I assumed that eventually I would start to post pictures. The initial posts didn’t really require them, but I imagined that I would get around to taking knitting pictures, or food pictures, or something. Instead, I’m finding it incredibly nice not to have the pressure. It also means that I don’t have any readers, but I don’t mind. I mostly come here to work through things in my own head.
I think that people put a lot of pressure on themselves. (I almost typed “women,” but I think men do it just as much, although often in different ways.) And in blogging, that pressure comes out in pictures. I’m not a great photographer, but I do okay. I don’t have a fancy camera, nor is that where I want to spend my money.
Far more importantly, I just don’t care about carefully curating my life into photo frames. My rental kitchen gets the job done, but it isn’t photogenic. I have a hideous patio. I do not have a house full of painstakingly-selected, charming furniture. One of my most prized knickknacks is Darth Tater (that’s Mr. Potato Head, in a Darth Vader outfit. I adore a pun turned visual.), who sits on the mantel. I neither have nor long for a yard full of children, attractive or otherwise.
I read a lot of domestic blogs with great pictures. If you’re here, you probably read them, too. And as primarily a reader I find them to be increasingly similar. See remarks above, re: charming thrift shop furniture, well-lit kitchens, quirky knickknacks, appropriately blurry pictures of sweet children. That is, I think that the aesthetic standard of the moment is corralling people into a certain way of framing themselves (literally) in their blogs. When you blog about your *life,* that’s a particularly insidious pattern, and one that makes me deeply uncomfortable.
I think I’ll stick to my not-quite-thousand words instead.