About
***It's worth noting that the site as a whole is not yet finished (and hopefully never will be!) so if things look a bit off, pictures are missing or links lead you nowhere please just enjoy the journey and pop back later to see the improvements!***
This could get a bit wordy so I’ll break it down into a series of easily digestible morsels.
Who are you?
My name is Katie and I live in a village in South Buckinghamshire with my very own BeechBumb. I like lots of things.
Why have you made a website?
I have an overinflated sense of my own importance and believe that the things I think and do need to be recorded and shared indiscriminately.
Is that the real reason?
No.
One spring day I had an epiphany. I was feeling overwhelmed and realised that it was due, at least in part, to the fact that information was entering my head faster than I could process it. On the whole I don’t believe that our use of technology and the way it has changed our lives is a bad thing but in truth I read so much and assimilate so little that eventually my brain becomes full. My solution? On this particular day it was compost. I had not turned it for a good few months (a veritable record for me) so I set to work. As I sieved and sorted and divided and discovered my mind cleared and I achieved a sense of peace. Happier than a pig in muck. Sadly though, compost only works if you leave it alone for a bit. It won’t do its thing if you keep messing about with it every time you need to free up a little head space. Good job then that the process helped me uncover another answer to my problem. Using the idea that “what goes in must come out” I wondered if, instead of trying to combat the input overload at source, I just needed to give it some wings. If I could allow myself greater opportunities for creative output, would I daydream a little easier? It was worth a shot.
But you were serious about recording everything, weren’t you?
Yes, I’m afraid I was.
I started writing a diary at the age of 10. I’d learnt about Samuel Pepys at school and fancied that I too could record contemporary life and be admired by future generations as one of history’s great informers. In the end I mostly wrote about who’d said mean things to me at school but the urge to record never left me.
I wrote on the backs of all my photos, horrified by the thought that someone could someday find them and not know where they were taken or whose faces they contained. When I went digital a spreadsheet stepped into the fray.
At university I experimented with bulletin boards and blogging. This was a process I loved but in time I moved on. Social networking and microblogging took centre stage but its ephemeral nature both fascinated and unsettled me. I wanted something with a little more substance. As technology progressed I was introduced to some superb websites and blogs fusing words and pictures in the most tempting of ways. I knew that this was for me. I wanted to do it and my afternoon musing amongst my detrivores made me realise that I needed to do it as well.
Are there any other benefits?
Sharing. I love my diary and there will always be thoughts I want to keep to myself but one of the best things about being human is being able to share experiences with other people. My BeechBumb does a really good job of listening to all my stories but sometimes he needs a break. Plus, there is a chance that other people might actually be interested in what I have to show them.
Appreciation. I’ve enjoyed the feedback I’ve had so far through social networking and although I don’t need the virtual pat on the back to maintain my self-esteem it is mightily motivating.
Writing. Last but not least is the pleasure I get from writing itself, which took a few years to emerge. I love stringing words together as creatively as possible. There’s a real skill in minimalist writing but sometimes the big words seduce me and I get a bit carried away. Please just bear with me.
So what can we expect to find?
I know people who are very good at blogging about specific things and they rarely stray outside of their set themes. I’d like to present articles about the things I make (mostly knitting), grow (mostly accidental) and find (each one a little wonder) plus a little amateur philosophy along the way. In truth I know my site will contain anything and everything. One of my favourite songs, “Soul Meets Body” by Death Cab For Cutie, contains the line, “…’cause in my head there’s a Greyhound station/Where I send my thoughts to far off destinations/So they may have a chance of finding a place /Where they’re far more suited than here.” I love the sentiment but where Ben Gibbard et al require a long distance coach company, my thoughts will happily mill about in the overflow car park.
And the hedgehog?
Ah. Yes. She took me a little bit by surprise. Please have a read of my first blog entry for a fuller explanation.
Any last words?
“A vague disclaimer is nobody’s friend. Have fun.” (Willow Rosenberg, Season 4, Buffy The Vampire Slayer)
Katie
This could get a bit wordy so I’ll break it down into a series of easily digestible morsels.
Who are you?
My name is Katie and I live in a village in South Buckinghamshire with my very own BeechBumb. I like lots of things.
Why have you made a website?
I have an overinflated sense of my own importance and believe that the things I think and do need to be recorded and shared indiscriminately.
Is that the real reason?
No.
One spring day I had an epiphany. I was feeling overwhelmed and realised that it was due, at least in part, to the fact that information was entering my head faster than I could process it. On the whole I don’t believe that our use of technology and the way it has changed our lives is a bad thing but in truth I read so much and assimilate so little that eventually my brain becomes full. My solution? On this particular day it was compost. I had not turned it for a good few months (a veritable record for me) so I set to work. As I sieved and sorted and divided and discovered my mind cleared and I achieved a sense of peace. Happier than a pig in muck. Sadly though, compost only works if you leave it alone for a bit. It won’t do its thing if you keep messing about with it every time you need to free up a little head space. Good job then that the process helped me uncover another answer to my problem. Using the idea that “what goes in must come out” I wondered if, instead of trying to combat the input overload at source, I just needed to give it some wings. If I could allow myself greater opportunities for creative output, would I daydream a little easier? It was worth a shot.
But you were serious about recording everything, weren’t you?
Yes, I’m afraid I was.
I started writing a diary at the age of 10. I’d learnt about Samuel Pepys at school and fancied that I too could record contemporary life and be admired by future generations as one of history’s great informers. In the end I mostly wrote about who’d said mean things to me at school but the urge to record never left me.
I wrote on the backs of all my photos, horrified by the thought that someone could someday find them and not know where they were taken or whose faces they contained. When I went digital a spreadsheet stepped into the fray.
At university I experimented with bulletin boards and blogging. This was a process I loved but in time I moved on. Social networking and microblogging took centre stage but its ephemeral nature both fascinated and unsettled me. I wanted something with a little more substance. As technology progressed I was introduced to some superb websites and blogs fusing words and pictures in the most tempting of ways. I knew that this was for me. I wanted to do it and my afternoon musing amongst my detrivores made me realise that I needed to do it as well.
Are there any other benefits?
Sharing. I love my diary and there will always be thoughts I want to keep to myself but one of the best things about being human is being able to share experiences with other people. My BeechBumb does a really good job of listening to all my stories but sometimes he needs a break. Plus, there is a chance that other people might actually be interested in what I have to show them.
Appreciation. I’ve enjoyed the feedback I’ve had so far through social networking and although I don’t need the virtual pat on the back to maintain my self-esteem it is mightily motivating.
Writing. Last but not least is the pleasure I get from writing itself, which took a few years to emerge. I love stringing words together as creatively as possible. There’s a real skill in minimalist writing but sometimes the big words seduce me and I get a bit carried away. Please just bear with me.
So what can we expect to find?
I know people who are very good at blogging about specific things and they rarely stray outside of their set themes. I’d like to present articles about the things I make (mostly knitting), grow (mostly accidental) and find (each one a little wonder) plus a little amateur philosophy along the way. In truth I know my site will contain anything and everything. One of my favourite songs, “Soul Meets Body” by Death Cab For Cutie, contains the line, “…’cause in my head there’s a Greyhound station/Where I send my thoughts to far off destinations/So they may have a chance of finding a place /Where they’re far more suited than here.” I love the sentiment but where Ben Gibbard et al require a long distance coach company, my thoughts will happily mill about in the overflow car park.
And the hedgehog?
Ah. Yes. She took me a little bit by surprise. Please have a read of my first blog entry for a fuller explanation.
Any last words?
“A vague disclaimer is nobody’s friend. Have fun.” (Willow Rosenberg, Season 4, Buffy The Vampire Slayer)
Katie