(One of my favorite quotes... I know I've shared it with you before.)
Hello all, This post is a long one. Today (with her permission) I am sharing bits of emails from a lovely gal who emailed me last spring. We got together to talk about blogging, as she was looking to start her own blog; however, since then she has decided not to - for reasons that I fully understand and respect - and reasons described below. I know it's a lot to read, and I don't expect you to read it all, but she is such a wonderful writer (so funny and honest)... even her emails were good. I hope maybe you'll at least read the last email.
4-25-12
to the author of lovely and
rust, molly -
my morning routine is simple. take the lid off
of my traveling coffee to cool, check emails, but before responding to them...i
read my most favorite blogs. many at the top of my list are written in new
york, australia, spain, some in chicago and russia. but when thinking of
beginning my own blog, mainly to share what i view as most inspiring to women
in columbus, i was at a loss to find anything that seemed to fit "my
style." that is, until i came across your recent post on nat the fat
rat.
i'm not sure if you've ever had the feeling of
an empty spot on your creativity shelf, but being in columbus, often surrounded
by a lack of unique design and fashion, it's been a struggle to find a way to
connect my lifestyle with my online loves. you do it so well.
hip-hip-hooray!
i'm still hoping to start a blog to let all my
inspiration flow out of me like a sprinkler. if you're free, i'd love to
treat you to a coffee and blog chat. it would be so nice to know how someone
got started.
cheers,
m.
6-15-12
to molly, the girl who gave
me a wonderful compliment and whom i'm looking forward to meeting.
would you be free next thursday by chance? i'm open to locations as i want to be sure you aren't going out
of your way or jumping hurdles to find a parking space.
open to dates.
open to times.
open to locations.
closed only to tube tops.
6-21-12
thanks, molly. i'm sure i
sound incredibly creepy by my confidence in pointing you out from the photos
you've posted on your blog. however...i'm confident that i'll be able to point
you out from the photos you've posted on your blog.
see you there!
6-25-12 (post meeting)
both blindly and quickly, i
put my hair in a bun on the top of my head. a 3pm ritual, my eyelids became
heavy as excel sheets served as a wall between my day and my evening. and then,
as i shifted my glasses to the bridge of my nose, i decided that an email to
you could serve as my break. i take a sip of cool water from an old panera
coffee mug to get me started. and now, i'll let my fingers dance over the keys
while i tell you how much of a pleasure it was to have met you.
i'm sure most people in my life have grown sick
of the stories i told them about the night under a green umbrella in grandview.
mostly because it was genuinely refreshing to sit with someone who understood
what it is i struggle with creatively, and how important it is for people like
you, and perhaps like me, to express it.
to sit.
to sip.
to discuss likes and wants without needing to
explain why or what.
it was all so appreciated. truly.
as for progress, i've set up a new email address
and tumblr account to house all of my colors, shapes and letters. i'm running
with your advice, and not even stopping to be sure my shoes are tied. i hope to
spend some time in the next couple of weeks really working on a basic design
and text to begin. i work well with deadlines and hope that in a month or so i can
finally write to you once again, only this time wearing the "blogger"
label.
9-27-12
to the blogger who was kind
enough to remember my birthday,
I'm going on my eighth day of being 27. and before the first of those days neared, i
read an article in the new
york times.
what i remember most from the paragraphs of words, was sehnsucht,
which translates as "addictive yearning." i read further, and almost
like wiping a window covered in steam from the kitchen, something became clear
to me.
my unacknowledged desire to want. and my
constant reach for something i couldn't find.
maybe this unacknowledged desire was my longing
for tangible aesthetics (clothes, the cross-shoulder leather bag, a patterned
rug that was born to live in my short north living room), but perhaps it was a
strong desire of a lifestyle that i lacked. the blogs i read (present company's
excluded), have stayed alive by breathing photos of beautiful girls in
alleyways; of quiet mornings in a parisian coffee shop with the token
cappuccino; of friends drinking wine and beer on a brooklyn rooftop that's
beautifully urban. all of these images had one thing in common - none of them
were my reality.
i would often begin my mornings with coffee and
blogs. by lunch i would think my life was only a shadow of something i truly
wanted. was it a bigger city that i longed for? maybe it was simply a candid
photo taken of me and sean laughing on a night i wore my signature red
lipstick. in any case, i became obsessed with clicking through the most
beautiful people on the internet trying to find what i believed would make me
feel complete and brave. pretty and purposeful.
i wasn't happy. i felt lost and unsure. and
then, there it was. sehnsucht.
i would like a place to store my creativity; my
words; those photos i flag as inspiration to cook, dress, decorate. although
leafing through my google reader is still seemingly routine, i spend little
time wanting what someone else has, and enjoying what i already do. for me,
it's been a step back from my own crippling thoughts of what should be and
welcoming what already is. because of this, i've decided against beginning my
own blog.
not all blogs fall under the sehnsuct umbrella,
however. i still flag inspiring posts. without them, how would i know to hang a
set of antlers on my wall next to a $3 mirror from a local flea market? how
could i have possibly known that neon tennis shoes and the perfect bag was what
i craved for weekend strolls (a nod to your most recent post)?
your encouragement has been nothing short of
necessary. perhaps you were the nudge i needed to reintroduce myself to
writing. over beers and hummus i met someone in columbus ohio who inspires me
through her postings and makes me feel like knowing your personal style is not
a task, but enjoyment. that living in ol' columbus town is not small, but a
welcomed challenged to create your own urban lifestyle.
your style friend, and follower,
m
>>> <<<
Thank you for reading; and allowing me to share something someone that really made me think. The last email struck such a cord with me. To be honest, like m, I constantly struggle with comparing myself to others. I recently had a good friend say something to me about my lack of confidence lately... and when I thought about it, sadly, I think it has a lot to do with reading blogs. Isn't that horrible? I think sometimes it's hard to read blogs written by beautiful women, who have beautiful families, who are given clothes and things by sponsors, and who appear to have perfect lives... and to remember that their lives are not perfect. And it's hard to not compare yourself or your life to theirs. Or at least it's hard for me... but I'm trying to stop.
I named my blog Lovely + Rust for many reasons. The name represents my love for lovely things... beautiful things, as well as my love for vintage and history. And the name of my future vintage shop (which is now a reality; although, I'm having a hard time finding time for it). But, the name was also supposed to represent appreciating the good and the bad in life. You stumble across that piece at a flea market that is lovely and rusty all at once... and it's perfect because it's imperfect, and it has so much history. And I think life is a lot like that. There is beauty in imperfection, and no one has a perfect life. Sometimes I think we all forget that.
Thank you, m, for writing such beautiful emails and being so honest. In asking for my help, you inspired me in turn. Especially now, when I'm struggling with finding time to blog, it's so nice to know there are people reading and silently pushing me along.
Have a wonderful weekend, friends!
