I don’t live in a van anymore. I don’t travel the country stripping anymore, tho I might when I run out of money.
When I started this blog I think I felt like my experiences were significant. I’m not really sure, because I don’t feel that way anymore. I mean, my experiences are significant to me, and maybe a little to the people around me, but I think the further they go the less they matter. Most of my experiences at the moment are tied to this land that I’m falling in love with, and I think it would be kind of creepy to tell the whole wide internetz all about that.
Go outside. Fall in love with the dirt under your feet. Why should I write to you about the dirt here (it is lovely and varied) when you aren’t here? Read things by people who share your dirt, or just listen to the dirt.
I used to feel this actual physical anxiety, that so many beautiful moments were passing without being written down. It was imperative that I record all those little moments before they faded from memory. I don’t feel like that anymore (which could be a good thing or a bad thing, I guess, depending on how you look at it).
To sum it all up:
I won’t be blogging here anymore.
I’ll maybe probably be starting a naked-Tara-in-the-woods website so I can make money without coming to town.
I might possibly start another blog. One of those boring ones that I update once or twice a week about how much wood I chopped or the otters teasing Bro.
I’ll probably be putting together a chapbook or two of poems and stories. I might write a book, but I don’t really feel like it right now.
If you want to hear about any of that (all of it, actually), put your email address in below to get an email when it happens (no spam, I promise).