Things seem to collect around me, wherever I go, in the same way ideas occur as if from nowhere, and since I have always balked at throwing anything out I sometimes imagine my house simply a context for unexpected items. I write under much the same compulsion: whether local images or abstract concepts, whatever interests me I hold on to as best I can and a poem is my formal grip. Everyone knows how a painter can put the most disparate things into a single picture—Jesus Christ, for instance, along with a Dutch windmill—and they are seen then in a single light.
Some people try, before cashing in, to make
their lives into shrines. Mine seems to be turning out,
as predicted, a small provincial museum, the kind
that might have in some corner or other one work
you could be interested in, if you knew it was there.
This one has a special place in my heart cuz my name's on it, you gotta get in close.
And I love how at first glance, you don't even see the farm, there's a whole life happening there, but the natural drama so overpowers it, shows it for a small side-act, a little valley dappled by sun in the middle..
I think it's good, it puts an onus on individuals to produce content, and you can join in as they go. It's interesting cuz there's a strong blog/forum split, but blogs with comments, or blogsensus type stuff really starts blurring the line, you realize that a lot of it is just usage norms. Sure, there are UX differences that accentuate those different usage norms, but you could run a blog like a forum, where a post is just the kickoff thread, and you could run a forum like a blog.