When I'm cooking - which I'm still doing a lot of, by the way - I want to focus on the food. Documenting the process disrupts it for me, and makes it feel a bit like a chore.
I very seldom make any dish the same way twice. I improvise a lot and make plenty of substitutions based upon what I like and what's on hand. So then unless I actually take notes along the way, it's almost impossible to recreate the process in a blog post. I've enjoyed several meals over the last few weeks that I considered writing about, and then I realized that I couldn't confidently write down step-by-step instructions to explain what I had done.
Furthermore, as much as I love to read about food, it's surprisingly not my favorite topic to write about. My goal of one post per week wound up taking time away from my other writing projects. With time at a premium and plans to tackle some big (giant!) goals in the coming year, I've taken these past few weeks to really weigh the value of the blog in relation to those goals. Sadly, I don't think it's stacking up.
I started this blog out of a desire to grab hold of my life, to give it direction and shape. In the months since then, I've grown to become motivated and creative and happy in ways that have been largely elusive to me during a difficult year that started on Halloween 2008 with my mom's first heart attack. I've been trying to map out a path to make the most of the opportunities that are available to me, and I have some dreams that seem both exciting and realistic.
So, maybe I'll be able to re-imagine this blog as something better suited to my goals. Or maybe I'll have to jettison it entirely - collateral damage in the quest to reclaim my own sense of purpose. Either way, don't worry about me if this space stays stagnant for a while. It doesn't mean there's anything wrong.
Actually, it means I'm doing great.