Happy Blog-versary

March 1st is the inconsequential day of The Write Stuff’s first year anniversary. I’ve managed to attract a loyal readership consisting of about five people (up from two when I started this a year ago), mostly friends who enjoy reading how I cannibalize my own experiences to serve as “material” for this blog (last time I used “fodder”, it elicited quite a few raised eye-brows).

I started to blog when I had this burning desire (nope, nothing sexual here) to share my enthusiasm for classical music to anybody who might care to read. My first ever post was about a Mozart concert, a tribute to the composer’s 250th death (or is it birth?) anniversary. It’s a passion of mine no different from say, sharing your favorite Cliff Richard or Cher albums (ok, ok, I’ll mention Pantera, although I have absolutely no idea who they are).

I couldn’t possibly be writing about classical music all the time. People, I do not live and breathe music, as OA writers would like to romanticize composers and musicians to be like. I’m not a hermit and although I think I’m a bit introspective (most instrumentalists are, to begin with) and I have a shirt that has large letters emblazoned on the front screaming, “Starving Artist”, I have other interests and I pursue a career as a researcher too.

And so I write about other issues like economics (another equally boring subject for most people), although I won’t go as far as read The Economist during my spare time, or check out the latest issue of Econometrica, or forward Steiglitz’s email articles about international trade to friends (yes, I know somebody who do all of those things). Maybe opera (I’m kidding).

Most of the time, though, I face a blank monitor screen, and waiting for that “inspiration” or that “light bulb” to pop up in my head to jumpstart my fingers to tap away at the keys, may take a while. And so, I let my sub-conscious direct my writing. I subordinate the important elements of coherence, style, even grammar to a stream-of-consciousness kind of direction.

What appears like a spontaneous entry about Bolivia or stray cats around my apartment, or funny recollections about my childhood in bucolic surroundings in the provinces, even my conversations with Che (who’s an equally interesting personality herself) are really effortless endeavors.

I do not think hard when I write about these things. I let go and I do not think too much about whether readers might find me offensive and will think of me less. I write what I know and like. It’s as simple as that. I do not have an editor to please. I also couldn’t care less whether or not people actually read me at all (scroll down and look for my visitor stats, it’s embarrassing!).

Jong once said he felt like he were to take a quiz after reading an entry. That never fails to crack me up. Also, Jun pulls me back to planet earth after I start to dissect a symphonic concert or an opera I just saw on DVD, “Ron, my nose bleeds”, he’d tell me. Or Marc takes time from his busy work in Singapore to comment on my, uhm, hair and offers to send a me brochure on hair regrowers.

Some people have been blogging for years, I only took to it last year, as my contra-bida personality held me back from doing it. I strike a balance between taking a magisterial but staid tone (yes, it’s deliberate) when discussing music and a light, comical approach to everything else.

I originally thought I’d maybe post one entry per week, or about fifty-something posts a year. After three-hundred and sixty-five days, I managed one-hundred and eighty-something posts. Not bad.

To The Write Stuff, Happy Anniversary!

(I feel so stupid doing this. Then why do it at all, you ask. I don’t know. Do I really have to answer that?)