Spring in Low Resolution

February 13, 2005

This is the second time I've written this post. In its first incarnation I waxed poetic about cherry trees and the promise of Spring. But I walked away from the computer without hitting "Publish Post" because of a mounting feeling of mediocrity. I started pulling at my fingernails and coming up with synonyms for 'trite.' I paced. I wolfed down a Snickers bar. I read other blogs and realized that people who actually read books tend to be better writers. Then I got defensive about my inability to make time for reading and started to list all of the obligations that rob me of said time. . . like blogging.

The fact is, there is nothing I can type about cherry trees that hasn't been written with greater eloquence. I have no unique vantage by which to craft any meaningful phrase about Spring or how I wish that it would arrive.

Here's another fact: the more frequently I blog, the more vapid the posts. That old yarn about writing more leading to better writing apparently only works on writers, not artists who type. I used to spend hours on an entry— because I needed to. However, with the inception of this daily practice I haven't the luxury to consider what I'm putting down. I simply look at the photo and react. 

In truth, I should just begin and end with the photograph. As my wife keeps reminding me, most people don't want to read blog posts anyway. They especially don't want to read blog posts with large block paragraphs. That's why there are magazines and books. 

Blogs are read with the same critical eye that we reserve for advertising. Which is a way of saying that they aren't read— they're just supposed to catch the eye.

So, here's a bit of eye candy. Spring in low resolution.