I read an article about new online services providing a continuity of a person's individual life even after her death. I was skeptic about it since it would mean giving out all my usernames and passwords, even Paypal details; if I were to consider the thought. This would mean a one-stop shop for hackers out there.
However, for the past several days I have been attempting to memorialize, commemorate really, my 27 years of existence by creating an online archive of all, if possible, my written works. So far, I have over ten years of poetry posted here 1996-2009. Truth be told, I do not pretend to be an artist or a poet in doing this. In fact, I felt a sense of embarrassment while typing them, realizing my childish rants and trite naivete. But I did not let my hesitation get the best of me and I decidedly clicked on "publish post" after each poem.
I look back at the things I wrote about and I read about a 12 year old girl and her attempt to play with words. Her crushes. Her temperamental moods. I read about a teenager and her first love. Her bright hopes. The things that matter to her, her family and her friends and God. I read about her despair and rage. Her thoughts on sex and intimacy. Her playful imagination. I have read about a young woman's broken heart and resilient will to stay strong. Her newfound love for her body and wish to seek a new love. Her remaining struggles within herself. Her passion and dreams. All these things depict my journey to myself. And so, I claim only to be an expert on art within me. Finally, my goal here is to merely use the enduring feature of cyberspace and hopefully connect with people who may be able to find a piece of themselves in some of my written works. I welcome any comments. I hope you enjoy them. As an end note, I share with you a passage from one of my favorite people.
"Works of art are of an infinite solitude, and no means of approach is so useless as criticism. Only love can touch and hold them and be fair to them." - Rainer Maria Rilke, Letters to a Young Poet
However, for the past several days I have been attempting to memorialize, commemorate really, my 27 years of existence by creating an online archive of all, if possible, my written works. So far, I have over ten years of poetry posted here 1996-2009. Truth be told, I do not pretend to be an artist or a poet in doing this. In fact, I felt a sense of embarrassment while typing them, realizing my childish rants and trite naivete. But I did not let my hesitation get the best of me and I decidedly clicked on "publish post" after each poem.
I look back at the things I wrote about and I read about a 12 year old girl and her attempt to play with words. Her crushes. Her temperamental moods. I read about a teenager and her first love. Her bright hopes. The things that matter to her, her family and her friends and God. I read about her despair and rage. Her thoughts on sex and intimacy. Her playful imagination. I have read about a young woman's broken heart and resilient will to stay strong. Her newfound love for her body and wish to seek a new love. Her remaining struggles within herself. Her passion and dreams. All these things depict my journey to myself. And so, I claim only to be an expert on art within me. Finally, my goal here is to merely use the enduring feature of cyberspace and hopefully connect with people who may be able to find a piece of themselves in some of my written works. I welcome any comments. I hope you enjoy them. As an end note, I share with you a passage from one of my favorite people.
"Works of art are of an infinite solitude, and no means of approach is so useless as criticism. Only love can touch and hold them and be fair to them." - Rainer Maria Rilke, Letters to a Young Poet
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