Blogs as archives of identity, past-selves.

| June 14, 2010

I have had a handful of blogs in my life. Some of which are gone forever, since they were self hosted and I destroyed them. There are two, however, that still exist by being hosted by blogger and Tumblr.

The first blog,  It’s Not About You It’s About Us was my very first foray into blogging, I literally knew next to nothing about the Internet, although I am sure at the time I thought i knew everything. The site is a mixture of  interests and writing, some of which is actually good, the rest is… well a mis-guided early twenty-something blogging about a bunch of stuff. The last proper post was in April 2006, about 3 months before I moved to New York and began Graduate School.

The second blog is hosted on tumblr and is called Immaterial Labour. This site is more a collection of images, projects, quotes, and links that I found online. Looking back through the archives I can make out a more cohesive structure and I seem to remember having some self-imposed guidelines for posting to this site. I actually posted to it this morning, but that was the first post is close to a year. The Tumblr site grew from documenting things I was interested in in graduate school.

I must say I find these sites to be extremely personally fulfilling. Each one exists as a piece of my life and my interests and activities from the recent-past. I think much of online publishing can be seen this way. While we espouse the ideas that you need to be current and post often there is also value in content that simply exists online. This content can remain unchanged, to be seen and enjoyed by the creator or whomever else may find it.  I can’t help but think of how interesting and wonderful an Internet of forgotten selves and interests may be.

I certainly don’t encourage creating a site of just a few posts, that seems pointless. A site of say 50 or 100 posts that has been ignored, however , can be a wonderful piece of personal history to rediscover. We build our online identities in such specific ways that it can be fascinating to look back on them and barely recognize the author.