Sinister: re: lurking, or "to post or not to post"

[carle groome]

having spent the better part of the last three days going over the scads
of posts, and then Isabel Lark makes this point:

I wondered about some of the posts that I have been reading lately. Some
very 
good (you know who you are) some not so good (you don't.) but always the
fear 
that you're offending someone or bothering someone...or too shy to do 
anything but lurk. I don't especially understand that. The wonderful
thing 
about this is that it doesn't matter. We all have a simpatico (the list 
itself, music, movies) so where is the fear? We are virtually
friends...and 
even more importantly no one knows who you are, unless, of course, you
have 
told them, but chances are they liked you, eh?

and then, after what seems like a century (well, it was last century) i
find a copy of stuart david's "ink polaroids"! and never having the
deuce of an idea what the listees were jazzing on about when i 1st
entered, i do now. (yes, i know. how could i have it and not know it? my
only excuse was that i filed it in the wrong place when i got IYFS. i
lead a confused life.) and there was number five.
"here's chris outside the studio, on the night we finished the first
album. it's quite dark, but you can still see the marks on his face the
tears have left--from where he was crying inside. (paragraph) i asked
him for why he'd been crying and he just said, 'because i've never done
anything proper before. but i don't know if that means my life's been
really shit up until this point, or if this is really good.'"

and it occurs to me that this vulnerability is what i so much enjoy
about the virtual bar-cafe we have here. and yes, how beauty or honesty
or truth or something can hit you so hard that you don't know why,
except that this moment will define the world as BEFORE THIS and AFTER
THAT, and that, just perhaps, the more sensitive (ok. "twee") can
appreciate this while... well, it seems that some people can have peak
moments in their lives and not know it for ten or twenty years after.

but i digress.

having worked with editors, i can tell you that rejection is a bitch,
constructive criticism hard to take, and being ignored is the worst.

but--HEY! who am i to care if you hit delete the second the heading came
up? doesn't cost me anything and might help or amuse you, right?

so what else are we going to do until the next album, or (gasp!) tour?
carle
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