impermanent foundations
Dave's Probably Leaving Bearblog has me thinking.
One fun thing about any given website you build is that you can convey as much or as little "tonal whiplash" through it as your heart desires. You can choose whether your most and least serious takes sit right next to each other on the same page or not. Various project types can be shoehorned into one convenient location or spread across countless standalone spaces. Articles with contrasting vibes can exist in different Internet protocols entirely if you want that level of differentiation. If pushing the boundaries of what's socially acceptable somewhere is your cup of tea, feel free to try if you can afford it. Even the amount of connections you make between however many online presences you tend to can be up to you.
If people do the sorts of activities you find yourself wanting to do on platforms and spaces you're not yet within, I would encourage you to join them and see how you fare. How many more exciting collaborators, co-creators, and creative partnerships can you find compared to where you currently stand? You can answer that question without even having to disappear from the online homes you made for yourself thus far.
While pseudonyms are superficially all fun and games, I can only imagine how little information is required to unravel them. Sure, I'd like to think that "I don't share many personal details here" like Dave. Even if that's true, entire years of my evolving idiolect are on display here. I haven't yet shared this blog with anyone in-person and have no plans to, but I wouldn't be surprised if they would catch on after somehow reading through it enough.
Dave ended his piece with this:
Many of you will not taste death before this blog passes away.
How true is that statement for my own blog, whether it passing away is under my control or not? What about other blogs or creative projects that I've come to know and love? Your surrounding environment can feel so permanent in the short-term, but changes gradual and sudden sure do take their drastic toll on the landscape. Are you even prepared for the possibility of seeing something you worked on for many hours disappearing or being sunsetted before your very eyes?