The Architecture of Blogging
What is the physical shape of a blog? Technically I suppose it is simply the shapes of loops and lines stringing themselves out on some motherboard in the ocean. In my case, they point to a series of places, but, unfortunately in an order that is not referenced by real time. Some of the posts appear with only a minute delay between the upload and the action and others require days of processing, a particular physical environment and a special ergonomic device. Does that make the immediate posts more real? I have already gone back through today and revised my text, added some references and edited my words from before. Most likely this means it is moving even further away from facts and closer to the story I am telling myself and others about this trip. But, then again, what has happened in the past is already gone. Perhaps the story we tell ourselves is the only real thing left that moves forward in time from the experience.
This experience of blogging, both in the immediate and in the regurgitated modes has made me think a bit about the nature of each communication. When I am updating on the go, I sort of picture myself holding a miniature walkie talkie that connects to Matti, my parents, and a few others. I hear the static, "kkkcht", and enter the information: where I am, what I'm doing, the fact that I'm ok. Unfortunately, it is a one way walkie talkie and my end remains silent except for the occasional text in response. This interaction makes me feel sort of self important. As if I am the hero in some sort of world changing adventure and I need to update my "team" back at home base. It is really strange, but also sort of exhilarating. I think it also feels somehow more "true" or "authentic". I wonder if this is the emotional feedback that others sense when they update their Facebook status or geo location status on a frequent basis.
Then there is the regurgitated mode, where I am sitting down in an architected "space" designed for thinking, writing and reflecting. Right now I am in Farley's Coffee Shop in downtown Oakland, writing this piece. (Which I think makes this a bit of a hybrid communication) This wonderful space is full of activity, but also totally effective as a work space. I count at least 10 people working on laptops, all with coffee. This is a small fee to pay for free wifi and a plug I suppose, yet, I can't help but think about those that might be excluded from this capitalist construct. They are probably waiting in line, again, at the public library where you can't have coffee and can only work for 15 minute chunks at a time. Gotta pay to play.
This method of blogging makes me feel contemplative, intelligent, again, a little self important. I can revise my words and be more metacognitive about my experiences. I can edit the photos, and potentially, narrate my story in a way that is a little more friendly to my audience.
"My audience". That concept feels uncomfortable, and even more so when I realize that I'm not sure who that is or who I want that to be. (Especially for this blog) This question of audience has haunted me my entire career. As a painter, I tried to pretend that the only audience that mattered was myself. An ontology that roots itself in modernist thought and one that is not surprising given the method of instruction at our universities. Unfortunately, this idea has always made me squeemish although I find it hard to articulate why. As an architect, this issue of audience gets a more friendly translation into the word "user," and I find that it is much easier to wrap my head around what my role is. As I see it, I am a midwife for my "users" and my actions will always be informed by their desires.
But for now, kind audience, I feel so lucky that I've been given this space, distance and time to create something that I hope connects me to you in a way that is more than just ones and zeros.
