I just recently came across a blog full of such beautiful word imagery — describing daily life, but in a whimsical, aching, enraptured way — that I have been rethinking the way I write this blog. As a child, I owned many, many journals, but I never wrote about my life in them. I always tried to imagine myself as someone else, as a damsel in distress with beautiful handwriting, meeting a charming wanderer who would sweep me off my feet and create a fairytale in my life. My journals are full of half-pages of these imaginings, in childish cursive, and very few entries are of real life.
It has always been difficult for me to write about my life. Perhaps because I have never found myself very interesting. I am just an ordinary girl, living through an ordinary life, doing ordinary things in an ordinary way. The things I experience have happened in ordinary ways, ways that I could have almost predicted.
And then I see blogs wherein the author writes with such beauty about the simplest of things, and I am challenged to improve myself. I have always written the fantasy with such vigor; it’s time to write about my life, as mundane as it might be, in a new light. It’s time to expand my vocabulary, as I used to do; to see the everyday through rose-colored glasses, as I have done before; to write about life as the beautiful thing that it is.
Scarf, skirt, shoes, belt, and brooch, Thrifted | tee, Target
It will probably take me a while to get used to writing about life in a renewed way, but it is a challenge I look forward to completing! I hope you enjoy the journey, too.
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