the thin line...

I haven't posted recently. I know this. No promises are being made to do so more faithfully, mind you. Just stating the obvious.

I do have a reason, though. As of late, all of the time I used to spend writing, I now seem to spend reading. There are some fascinating people out there blogging about their daily ins-and-outs. I can't seem to get enough.

I will freely admit that after checking my email accounts and making sure the world isn't coming to an end, I head directly to 4th Avenue. I find Andrew absolutely intriguing. He is a fabulous writer. I envy his dialogue writing style. My memory is too shot to make a success of such prose. More important than being an incredible writer though is the fact that Andrew is an awesome story teller. His interesting band of cohorts gives him plenty of fodder for blogging, to be sure. He doesn't just tell you about these people though... he makes you see them. You can hear their words, in their voices. He describes even the minute details of his surroundings. Sometimes his descriptions are so vivid I feel like I'm standing by his side--sharing the experience... like the Alabama sunrise just breaking the horizon, or the southern bar-be-que he downs at one of his favorite local haunts. Andrew writes about his demons, too, which I find so unbelievably noble. Struggling with schizophrenia and alcoholism, he sometimes waxes poetic over his homeless days. His candor is raw and can be unnerving at times, but he is living proof of the indomitable human spirit within us all. Flawed though he may be, he understands the path he needs to follow and does what he can to stay on track. Andrew's recovering now from a rough patch in the road, but he has this amazing community of blogging friends who were there to pick him up when he had forgotten how to find his own way. Paying the piper can be a bitch, but I know he's going to come out better for the experience on the other side. He's too amazing not to. (By the way, did I mention his photos? My only complaint about Andrew's photography is that he seems to have slacked off a bit as of late. His photos tell stories all on their own...)

I found Andrew one night by clicking the little "Next Blog" tab at the top of my Blogger screen. I had no idea the new world I was opening up by that one little move of the mouse. I mentioned briefly the blogging community that regularly checks in on Andrew and his hijinks. By clicking a few links on profiles for those commenting on 4th Avenue posts, I was taken to tons of other blogs... each one more interesting than the one before it. Some people I clicked on because I liked what they said in their posts. Others I checked into because their screen name or avatar piqued my curiosity. I was seldom disappointed. I was quite often astounded. I can't believe the diversity and talent among the world of online bloggers. It seems everyone has something fascinating to say.

I am completely enthralled with Austere's blog, AustereSeeker. My favorite posts are when she writes like your senses would take a scene in. There are the sights... the sounds... the smells... the chaos... the beauty. She has amazing insight and makes for a wonder-full read. I love the way she responds to her comment posters, too. And I love that she comments on my blog. All I do is read words she puts onto a computer screen. I'm half a world away. She, however, makes it seem like we're friends sitting on opposite sides of a table at Starbucks. Be sure to check out her other blog, Roughpad, too. Full of creative writing pieces and poetry, it shows how truly talented she is. I'm glad I don't get charged by the visit. My PayPal would be bottomed out by now. "Delightful read" doesn't begin to do Austere justice. Reading her words is more of an "experience". I can't wait til she posts again...

Andrew led me to Abba Girl, too. I love reading her posts about work and travel. She seems like someone I would be friends with in the real world, so why not in the blogging world? Reading at the Wheel leaves me feeling like I'm having a great phone conversation. I don't get to do much of the talking, mind you, but she calls me sometimes, too, and returns the favor. I keep my blog reading to a pretty small, selective group, so blog-wise, I guess you could say I don't get out much. AbbaGirl's post titled "50 Things About Me" was the first one I'd seen of such a nature. I loved reading her list so much, I knew I would have to do a post of my own. Mine is a tad more verbose than hers, and by "tad" I mean my tome vs. her summary... but that's how I roll. Abba is a wonderfully giving person. She cares deeply about the friends she has made online, and it shows. I count myself lucky to know she checks in here on occasion.

I found Summer at the intersection of 4th Avenue and Madison Street. I spend time at least once a day now checking in to see what's new at number 107. Her blog's subtitle reads, "When Summer was fun." I would proffer that Summer's a riot. No longer working outside of the house, I truly enjoy reading about the shenanigans she deals with at work. Stories of Dr. Browneyes and Ms. Percocet make me wish--just for a split second or two, mind you--that I had a crazy office to report in to on occasion. Then I wake up. I'd much rather read about her crazy exploits than have to endure some of the stuff she goes through. Like the whistling. Lately I've enjoyed her soul bearing posts about her grandfather and the amazing account of her son's birth. A lot of the best reading on Madison Street is in the "Comments" sections of each post. Summer has a loyal band of readers friends who clearly care for her deeply. It doesn't take much digging to figure out the feeling is mutual. Reading for the first time made me think, "I'd love to be part of this." So I uncharacteristically burst into the room and commented right along with the best of them. Hopefully it was a welcome intrusion...

I wanted to start stalking Tina, just like the rest of the free world, apparently. It would have involved emailing her to find out where she's gone now, though, and mine are pretty big, but they're not titanium plated yet. In the meantime I just have to wait for her to post again on Summer's blog. Maybe someday she'll send the link all on her own... (hint, hint Tina.)

Another member of the M STREET CREW is AC. She claimed recently to know not what she did/does to warrant a spot on my "who i'm reading" roll, so allow me to extrapolate. AC loves vintage photos. She has one attached to each of her posts. I love vintage photos. Most of my art features vintage images of some kind. AC lists her location as "Western What the Fuckistan, FL". I swear to God I wish I had thought of that first. I usually list mine as "Southeast of Disorder". Most endearing, however, is the fact that she hearts things. I heart things, too. (In fact, when I found AC, I had a saved entry I was working on called, "things i heart..." . After I read her blog, I didn't want to be accused of copy-catting her clever catch phrase, so I never posted it.) I enjoy her tales of el Capeetan, Nigerian stalkers, and life in general. Plus, she sees dead people. Does it get any cooler than that? It may be just me, but I suspect she knows quite a bit. She's apparently having a rough go of it lately and hasn't blogged in a while. I know I'm not alone in hoping she gets back to posting soon because I heart checking in on Western What the Fuckistan...

It's a thin line that separates us all. Someday I hope to be able to thank Andrew for the wide little world on the web he opened up for me. Maybe I just did?