Thank You for My Final Blog and My Real Life

 

This is my last and final Blog post of over 550 Thank You Posts.

 

In scanning my previous posts on this blog (over a year of morning Thank you’s ) I am obliged to reevaluate my own intention and take a break from the blog realm.

 

All Irony, metaphor, philosophical meandering, and kidding aside, I am a thankful person.

 

I don’t always write my true thanks the way they come into my head in the morning. 

Sometimes the short freeway that leads from my chair by the window to the computer screen gets cluttered with abstract off ramps and jackknifed semi-thoughts that roll over onto pseudo clever punnies in synaptic overdrive.

 

But truly, my original morning thought before it hits my keyboard fingers is one of appreciation for the things around me and my life as a human being, observing life.

 

My intention when I started this blog over a year ago, was simply to express the appreciative thoughts of my morning ritual.

 

For decades, I have done this morning ritual in one way or another—usually in silence.

I have coffee, blow smoke to the sky, and find something to appreciate in the first thought that comes to my mind— to acknowledge I am alive and that my life is a gift to wake up to.

 

Somewhere along the way, by putting those thoughts to ether paper, I have become a smart alec, an Eiron, a word wielding satirist, and a bit of a big mouth with self important opinions in the guise of gratitude.

I’m not sure if this evolution had an original seed in my true nature or if I have cultivated it for reasons that may not suit my original intention in this blog—or in expressing myself.

 

I am not a writer.

I am a painter, an artist. 

I am feeling like I need to get back to the wordless expressions of my place in the world where I can listen better.

My attempt at being a writer feels diluted to me, socially and emotionally. I want to rediscover concentrated  expression and personal interactions. 

 

I have had a good time here and the blog party has been great, with wonderful food for thought and a whole lot of inspirational bloggers who brought their favorite dish to expose me to new information and perspectives.

 

But I think I need to go home now.

I need to be quiet for a while.

 

I think I have been trying too hard to be a clever blogger and forgetting that words can actually be a distraction from one’s intention.

I have been writing words daily, for over a year now.

That’s more than four full seasons of random ramblings and reflections in abstract English. 

For me, in retrospect, the illusion that I was communicating kept me from actually interacting on a personal level that I previously aspired to. 

 

I have immense respect for those of you who are writers and find a way to express self revealing authenticity in words. 

I have enjoyed your writing, your comments, and your talent.

 

Thank You.

Lea

 

 

What I really meant…

 

 

 

 

 

 

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~ by leakelley on May 31, 2009.

24 Responses to “Thank You for My Final Blog and My Real Life”

  1. Lea! Please don’t go!

    I for one wish I had found you long ago.. I am always touched and forced to think when I read your blog.

    Thank you for making a lasting impression on me

    Karen

  2. Hi everyone – it’s alright. We need not panic. Rather, in gratitude for a lot of really talented writing & thought, we can honor Lea’s past morning songs by working our own ways of expression to wake ourselves up, &, should we get good enough at it, awaken others till they mirror us mirroring her reflecting our common & ancient tradition.

    For her sake

    We ask you
    to come now

    O Graces O
    rosy-armed
    perfection:

    God’s daughters

    by Sappho, from the epithalamia, c. 7th century b.c. -translator, Mary Barnard

  3. I will miss my morning Lea…but I completely understand what you are saying here. Congratulations on doing this for so long–you set a goal, and did it, and I think your “real” art will be enriched by this foray.

    xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

  4. I will miss you and am sorry to see you go, but I understand. Sometimes the blogging takes off with us and we find ourselves in some unexpected (and not always desired) places.

    Thank you for reminding me to be thankful every morning. 🙂

  5. You will be missed. It was a lovely reminder to read your gratitude every day.

  6. i totally disagree with you about whether you are a writer. You write some of the most profound things I’ve ever read.

    I will miss your posts.

  7. Yes Lea, you are a wonderful writer…

  8. I totally disagree with whether you are a writer as well. Your writing is clever, poignant, provocative, graceful, so appreciated. I so hope that there will be room VERY soon in your life as an artist to continue to share your written art with all of us…
    we’ll leave the light on for you…
    Wendy

  9. All I can do is wish you well and echo what others have said here.
    Paint on, paint away…. and I’ll look forward to seeing those brilliant creations some day.
    I’ve always appreciated your efforts here and have taken a lot from your writing.

  10. I will miss you, Lea! Good luck in your future endeavors!!

  11. You ARE a writer. You’ve written here (and, we know, elsewhere), for so long, I have trouble recognizing your testament to the “I am not a writer” sentiment. I know how much painting means to your very existence, and I know how much words and meaning convey to our greater message to the world. So, here we go, LeaKel. This is transformation. We’ve moved beyond transition. We never thought we might have to visit this place, this time. Here we are, my friend.

    I’m sending you moths, dragonflies, butterflies, and a single raven. I hope they can help with your transformation. Our winged friends have always flown beside us. They fly within us. They…are…us.

    I love you, LeaKel.

    L.

  12. p.s. I know what you really meant to say, and I visited you there, too. I was always there. I am there now. L.

  13. I myself am at a loss of words. I don’t know what to say other than I think I can understand, in part. When we start putting those thoughts and emotions on paper, it can sometimes lead us to a place we never thought we would go. But don’t you see? That is good writing. To not be afraid. To tap into the inner thoughts and emotions that most people want to seal off. The really good writers are the ones who are not afraid to find those words within themselves that others dare not say; the little thoughts we wish we never had, much less would ever share with anyone else. To not shirk away from those feelings but to actually explore them further in ways that enlighten others and put into words what no one else can, is what makes amazing writing.

    You are a writer, but the problem is what you already wrote, your a painter first and that’s where you must go. I will truly miss your blogging company. Thank you for your inspiration and constant encouragement. It’s weird. I wrote many months before I stumbled upon you, but somehow it just won’t seem the same without you.

    “The role of a writer is not to say what we all can say, but what we are unable to say.” Anais Nin

  14. I have loved your writing from the day you first commented on my little corner of the blogging world. I will definitely miss your voice on here, your creativity and your spirit.
    I will miss you.

  15. Your terrible message was beautifully stated. It makes a lot of sense. I don’t like it, and I hope you come back in a couple of weeks with a ‘lea kelley says thank you for not having to commit to terrible ideas’ post.

    But if that doesn’t happen,

    cheers.

  16. Or a reincarnation as a musing blog, only written when particularly inspired or moved…

  17. Oh what you miss when the eye doctor tells you to rest your eyes. I am sorry, I am just sad about your leaving us. That’s totally selfish, but I do understand the pressure and the times when words and thoughts tumble out that don’t honor your wishes for yourself. Undoubtedly you are a writer and an artist. You expressions have revealed a person so many fellow bloggers care very much about. I’ll be checking your art site for new paintings regularly and hope you will pop in from time to time.

  18. Perhaps Lea’s words will find their way to the stage as spoken word pieces.

    Either way, we’re ALL:

    Writers, Artists, Musicians, Dancers, etc.

    We have to get over ourselves to be artful without apology.

    Luckily, I get my Lea “live”, so I see why many will be going through withdrawal.

  19. I’ve never felt apology detracted from the art.

  20. I have to wonder if, like the air traffic controller in “Airport,” you even find yourself saying, “I picked a helluva time to stop blogging.” Just wondering, saying hi to the wall.

  21. Thank you for all your wonderful words of wonder and gratitude. I wish you happiness.

  22. To All my Blog Pals,
    Thanks for the comments and the e-mails.
    I miss you guys too!
    I will continue to check out your blogs and laugh, cry, and wonder.
    Thank you again.
    Lea

  23. Thank YOU, leakelly. I’ve enjoyed your posts. It sounds like the sane thing to do, to focus your energies on your art. Blogging *can* distract from the quiet mind that fuels painting.

  24. happy travelling and peace… timo

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