The Complex

Website as digital garden

Website as digital garden

I’m doing okay in my little lockdown bubble. We live in a relatively rural spot, we have a garden, and we are working remotely pretty successfully. The days are going by fast — they all feel very similar, whether work days, or weekends, or holidays. I have built up routines, initially to cope, but I’ve come to enjoy them, and going back to work in a separate physical location might now be harder than I could ever have expected.

It’s tricky moving from the day into the evening. It’s hard to write, or read, or watch films, because I would usually do those things in the same room I am now programming in, and after dinner and a stroll, going back to my desk isn’t appealing. I don’t have a laptop anymore. I can’t watch films on the main television while my daughter is up. She isn’t old enough for, or interested in, my genre tastes. I’m looking for space.

The concept of my website as a digital garden appeals to me. I found that blog post because I’ve started using an RSS reader to follow people’s website content, and one of the feeds I subscribe to also talked about it. I miss that sort of longer-than-twitter-but-shorter-than-an-essay conversation between people. It still happens in the software development community, which as a writer who often resents his time programming computers, is ironic.

This is all to say that I’m going to try to post here more regularly, and that means the posts are going to be shorter, less coherent, and more for me than for readers. (Yes, I know I’ve said that before.)

I want somewhere to write that is in public, but away from the noise of Twitter. Twitter got me writing again, but I’ve lost that feeling of being free to write whatever I want. I can’t help but always have one eye on how I’m coming across, now I have a book published. I still haven’t worked out what that means to me. Perhaps this is part of that.

Listening to: Over Yet, Hayley Williams, on Petals for Armor.