Actually, everything changes. I'm always surprised when people want—or expect—you to stay as you were, doing what you always were doing, looking the way you always looked. I've tried my whole life to constantly challenge myself, to move forward, to strive harder, to reach further. In a word (actually in two words): To change. The one constant for me is the words. I'll always be putting them down on something. Somewhere. The wheres and the hows might shift.
Right now, I'm still moving my words from here to Patreon. And yeah, some are vanishing. (Where'd they go? Poof!) But others are being dusted off—words I wrote a decade ago—and given a new shiny coating.
At some point, this blog will most likely be gone. That's okay. It's all going to be okay (she said to herself multiple times a day). The more things change, the more they change. I think I'm good with that.
Interesting side note—I tripped over this poem by Robert Herrick the other morning, and the words keep circling in my head.
Why Flowers Change Colours
These fresh beauties, we can prove.
Once were virgins, sick of love,
Turn'd to flowers: still in some,
Colours go and colours come.
P.S. I know there's something inherently silly about posting while simultaneously deleting. A little two-steps-forward, three-steps-back. I'm sure this will surprise nobody, but that's the kind of game my brain likes to play. Burn the candle at both ends? Ha. I'll also singe the middle.