A quick note on photography blogging.

I've got a few ethical questions about blogging about the photography space. Not easy ones like: "should I have affiliate links?" but more along the lines of, "Just how much personal information should a blogger be sharing?" "How much personal information do audiences really want?" "How close to the primary/core area of interest should bloggers stay?" Lately I shared way too much information about my infernal refrigerator. (It's now working as it should and has been for about ten days now.... recompense for expenses  received, warranty extended). And I never mind sharing stuff like how the swimming is going. Or what I'm planning for upcoming vacations. Even something along the lines of fun and positive, but non-photographic events in day to day life. Ben's graduation from college. B's retirement.

But I feel queasy posting about childhood traumas, colossal personal failures, failed relationships, abject  fears of mortality and decay, or non-business related setbacks. I'm also not a fan of family histories or "might have beens." And I definitely would never want to share my financial information or net worth online. For any number of good reasons.

But here's the deal, if we read the same blogs for years at a time we develop a sense of community, and a penchant  sharing, feedback and a sense of mutual give and take. If someone like myself is willing to put life stuff out there in writing it should be assumed that, as long as comments are enabled, I'm willing to accept feedback, praise and even reproach (or gentle course correction) from my readers. I don't always agree with or like the feedback I get from tilling the soil of blogging but I should expect to get it. If it's ad hominem attack material I have the option of deleting a sour comment but generally, even when a reader disagrees with me such as the recent chiding I got for converging architectural parallels I post it argue about it and then, sometimes (as in the case of Mr. Benson's comment) realize that maybe the other guy is right. And that I've over-reacted.

With photographic content this is easier. You can argue fine points about photography for hours and mostly walk away unscathed. But when we start dredging up regrets, painful episodes in life (see my swim post from earlier today) and ruminate over material that's purely indicative of something going wrong or trending in the wrong direction, it's harder for me to see where the lines are drawn between jumping in and commenting or sitting on the sidelines. Always quick to keep an eye out for entropy and dystopia. 

Some of my readers seem to think there is a code for writers which disallows us to rebut bad ideas or awkward philosophies. I don't agree. I think we have the same rights of critique and criticism as everyone else. But, again, I may be wrong. But so much of life is beyond binary. It's endless shades of gray. Or grey. 

I'm pretty comfortable with my knowledge base when it comes to most stuff that's photographic in nature. And I think I have long since learned to navigate doing business in a profitable way. When it comes to close personal relationships I try to stay relentlessly positive.  I have only to post a celebratory note about celebrating our 38th wedding anniversary to bring a smile to my own face. But where I get in to trouble is when I assume that all other people will make smart decisions on their own behalf. When I assume that people want to be happy. When I assume that some attitudes and habits are symptoms of misplaced martyr syndromes. Or pathways to depression. But I'm only seeing the top layer, not the whole cake.

If content creators were physical friends instead of virtual friends I would have no hesitation in sitting them down and trying to help. And I would expect the same in return. But with web friends, other than having read and commented on common material we have no other common, personal touchstones, no real bonds and no real understanding of the underlying person. We can conjecture, read into the material in a sort of "between the lines" manner but we might be wrong much more often than we are right. And our ability to change someone else is iffy to negligible. 

As I look over the 5,000+ blog posts I've shared I find that this one itself is so far afield from the subject matter that this channel is supposed to be about. I wonder if most of the long term photo bloggers have so exhausted our primary subject matter that we are now either into endless repetition or, on the other hand, the airing of our grievances with the bad hands we think we've been dealt in life, or just the unexamined but desperate desire to cling to some vestige of relevance. I know the last part is true, in some sense, for me. 

It's disquieting. This misplaced sense of wanting everything to go back to what it was. Wanting blogs to be as fresh as the day one discovered them for the first time. Almost desperately wanting them to be about what they advertise. When I feel like this I should learn to just turn off the lights in the office and go for a walk. No one asked my opinion anyway.