Why I Write (here)

I think I lost track of why I started writing here. I love the fact that the blog is being read, but sometimes I think it makes me not be as raw and exposed as I feel I need to be.
I started writing here not only because I wanted to put my thoughts out in the void but also so that I can find something positive and inspirational out of the chaos that I so often feel surrounds me. I wanted to find beautiful things and make myself focus on them so that I don't forget. It's been a year where over and over again I keep being confronted with the fact that people are ugly. Not everyone, and not in the physical sense. I know that moral ugliness is not as widespread as it seems to be lately, but if you live in a world where you encounter hummingbird after hummingbird on a regular basis, you might think that hummingbirds dominate the world; in actuality, comparatively few hummingbirds populate this earth. They just seem to be especially concentrated in certain areas. These metaphorical hummingbirds-- namely, cruel people, who are not worthy of being compared to something so beautiful as a hummingbird-- seem to be especially prolific in New York City. I let myself forget who I was once because of The Former Employer from Hell, and I can't bear the thought that I'd lose myself again and let others tell me the type of person I am. Sometimes this city just beats you down and tears you apart, and how do you stop from becoming a misanthrope? I have to force myself to dwell on the beauty.
That said, I also have to acknowledge that life isn't all sunshine and butterflies as I see it. Sometimes I wish that I didn't feel as deeply as I seem to, but most of the time I see that part of me as an asset rather than an impediment. If I'm being completely honest, I think that people who don't process pain or see occasional darkness are either (a) not very bright, (b) deluded, or (c) in some sort of cult-- but always shallow. Artists, especially writers and painters, are some of the deepest people you will encounter, and those are the people with whom I identify. I feel that no art can come out of a person who doesn't acknowledge pain or dissatisfaction or injustice. They make beautiful things, but that comes out of dwelling in the shadows quite a bit. And, don't you know, the shadows bring the starlight. That's what my blog is about: not letting the dark overwhelm you, but letting acknowledging it and letting it lead you to appreciate beauty so intense that it hurts.
I found this today, done to a t by this girl at this happy home, and I've decided that it might be something beneficial to me. I will do it in fifteen-item increments, so here, in no particular order, are the first 15 of One Hundred Things I Must Do in this Lifetime:
1) Make my own jam.
2) Grow a garden with climbing roses, hyacinths, and a raspberry bush.
3) Visit Prince Edward Island.
4) Write a book about my life adventures, with the first line "Some couples have a song; we had a salad."
5) Read the Russian Masters and Dickens' oeuvre.
6) Rediscover my proficiency in French.
7) Research Norse mythology and travel to Scandinavia.
8) Videotape my grandmother making her famous chicken soup.
9) Make an apple-picking outing a yearly priority.
10) Take photos of my daughter stumbling about in her mommy's high-heels.
11) Travel to Ireland and Scotland with Whitney.
12) Find (and afford) first editions of all of my favorite books.
13) Have no regrets.
14) Beat my coffee addiction.
15) Release a message in a bottle.