For as long as I can remember, I have always left the first page of every notebook blank. I have filled notebooks with homework, lecture notes, poems, and craft ideas, and every single one has a pristine first page. I could never bring myself to make a single mark on that page, because for me, the first page represented the entirety of the notebook. If I drew a picture on the first page, but it turned out to be a terrible drawing, then every time I opened that notebook, that one terrible drawing would suck all of my inspiration away. Or if my first page of notes was in terrible handwriting, or the first poem was a flop, it would cast a pall over the rest of the notes, or poems, or whatever.
So, I left the page blank. Full of unrealized potential. Full of possibility. It was the magic that allowed me complete creativity in every other page. And I like to think it worked. Freed from the overwhelming expectation of the first page, I could scrawl illegible notes about art history next to doodles of ballerinas, and write a few bad limericks on the next page, and an idea for a great quilt pattern on the next page. In other words, I could be me.
This blog is in much the same state as one of my notebooks. I'm not sure what I'm going to write about here, and there very likely won't be a theme. I like too many things. I like crafts, I like nerdy things, I like random home improvements, technology, spreadsheets, quilting, and being a mom. I like shiny things and I'm married to colors.
So this is my blog version of a first page, and it's kind of blank. But it can't be blank blank, because then it wouldn't be a post at all. So, just imagine that it's blank, for me. And we'll see where we can go from here.