Before Thankful Thursday gets into full swing, the management would like to alert you to the fact that several posts are now password protected; I am exploring new avenues for a few of my poems. I am not, however, ready to remove them completely. (There was one poem a few months ago that was and will remain password protected unless I can edit it to protect the innocent; truly, as it is about children.)
I love my blog and I love putting poems up here; I love the comment section if I’m lucky enough to get comments. At times I’m torn between blogging my poems and simply putting together a chapbook.
A blog is both mutable and stable (as long as one has access to electricity at some point…another irony of a blog’s “permanence”); the fact of the technology blows me away sometimes. I puzzle over it. Knowing that it is only in a nascent state makes it even more amazing and mind-boggling.
What I miss sometimes is reading words off of pages. The computer hurts my eyes. I get tired more easily sitting in front of a screen. I miss touching paper, but I love youtube. I love the speed and the tricks and the access, but I also love reading in bed at night propped up on my queenly down pillows with real paper between my opposeable thumbs and fingers.
On to Thankful Thursday. Some time. Later.
Ciao! twinkly
twinklysparkles 
Gotta say Twink, there’s no cyber experience that compares to the real world. Live music, books in hand, the human touch; the i’net is great but it’s no worthy rival.
It’s funny you mention live music because I think about that a lot. Most of human history that involved music didn’t even involve performance–music was communal or part of every day life–think work songs for one. I can’t play an instrument (took piano lessons for 7 years only not to stick with it) so I think what I lack. I can sing and I do sing, sort of a lot. My kids grew up with me singing to them all the time. They sang every day and heard music played regularly in their old school (the 8th-Grader is in that school for one more year).
But now, my older daughter Violet…it’s all recorded, just like when I was a teen. No iPod back then, so you still pretty much had to share your music with others.
As far as touch…don’t get me started. I became a massage therapist 23 years ago for a reason. Now it doesn’t seem so important, but I used to think about that a lot, too. Doctors barely palpate any more, diagnoses are made with machine after machine. A baby’s first touch in the world is often to a gloved hand. See? I said don’t get me started…I’m too prone to ranting.
Where are we going with the technology? More and more into ourselves? Not sure.
On and on I babble. Thanks for your comment alph!