
“Words mean more than what is set down on paper. It takes the human voice to infuse them with deeper meaning” –Maya Angelou
I used to keep written journals. That ended in 2003 when someone found them, read them, and used them to their advantage. It’s why journals should be kept unseen. People can’t be trusted with written secrets. It’s true.
A good friend of mine, the writer-bookish type, once said that she never writes anything that she wouldn’t want found.
It seems like such a juxtaposition though. Journals are meant to be the quietest, loudest, hidden, open, detrimental, happiest parts in the written word of a person’s life. It’s the stuff you can’t share in the open, but need to debrief elsewhere, even if it’s on a piece of paper.
I haven’t put anything substantial in writing in paper or online. For good reason. At least not publically.
So what does it mean to write on the Internet?
- I’m not an influencer. There’s no money in what I’m writing.
- I’m not writing for you. I’m not even sure if I’m writing for me.
- I’m not a blogger in the traditional sense.
What I have been is struggling to find a way to write with a voice that sounds like me, that isn’t related to work, emails, texts, or Facebook posts.
The past four years have also been a season of change, where writing, art, and new creative projects take hold. I can’t promise I’m going to write regularly, but I am hoping that this will allow for some level of freedom, open conversation, and shared space in the world wide web. My little dotcom on the innerweb.
Did this make sense? This is my official first crappy post. Everyone needs to do this at least once.
Welcome to Simple Charlotte J. (also “J” is for “Jayamalar).
Can’t pronounce it? It’s Jey-ya-ma-ler (see it’s not that hard).
