In the grand tapestry of my creative life, one thread has been quietly weaving itself for over a decade: blogging. Since 2009, I've been carving out little spaces on the internet to share, reflect, and connect. It feels surreal to say that aloud... 2009!
That was a time when blogging was still finding its voice, social media wasn’t the behemoth it is today, and the world seemed just a bit slower, a bit more patient.
I started blogging because I craved a place to hold my thoughts, to capture the spark of inspiration before it could vanish. Back then, I was more focused on words than the visuals, though it didn’t take long before photography began to seep into my posts. The camera became an extension of my storytelling, and over time, the blog became a home for the images that spoke when words couldn’t.
Blogging in 2009 was different. It was personal, almost intimate. Blogs were like diaries, open yet selective, revealing enough to connect but never so much to overwhelm. Comments felt like conversations; every blog post was a little world you invited others to step into. And as much as the internet has changed, I’ve tried to hold onto that ethos; creating spaces that feel intentional, thoughtful, and deeply personal.
Over the years, my blog has ebbed and flowed. It’s seen phases where it became stale and static, other times when I needed to fill the space with all the experiences I was having and share them 'out-loud'. I’ve explored the absurdly melancholic and beautiful stories that I now tell with fine art photography through writing, acting and singing; capturing it all in the blog.
It’s captured the essence of end-of-life pet photography, those profoundly tender “Remember Me” sessions that have taught me more about love and grief than words ever could. It’s been a mirror, reflecting my journey as a mother, a brain injury survivor and someone constantly in awe of how history and memory shape us.
The act of blogging itself has shifted, of course. Platforms like Instagram and TikTok now dominate, and the pace of content creation is relentless. But my blog remains a sanctuary, a place where I can slow down, think deeply, and share without worrying about algorithms or fleeting trends. It’s a corner of the internet that’s mine, and I cherish that.
What keeps me coming back, year after year, is the connection... to myself, to my art, and to the people who find meaning in what I share. Blogging has allowed me to document not just my work but the evolution of my creative spirit. It’s a love letter to this life I’ve built and continue to shape.
As I look back on these sixteen years of blogging, I feel immense gratitude. Gratitude for the community that has joined me along the way, for the space to grow and experiment, and for the timeless power of storytelling. In a way, blogging has become a living archive; a testament to who I’ve been and who I’m becoming.
Here’s to the next chapter. Who knows what it will bring? If it’s anything like the last sixteen years, it will be full of discovery, growth, and maybe a few surprises. And I’ll be
here, documenting it all, one post at a time.
If you are new to my blogs and would like to read the archives go here: k9drama

Comments