Writing the other day about the uncanny resemblance between my sketchbook and that of a friend, I remembered what it felt like to write for the sake of writing. That small window felt like a deep breath after holding my breath for so long.

Deviating from blogging is nothing new. I’ve done it multiple times. In a 2021 blog post titled “Is anybody home?” I wrote:

This website feels like an abandoned house yet everything still intact. Sheer white curtains hang over the windows. An old cup of coffee sits untouched with two moths, floating. Air, musty and old, pleads for the window to be opened. Wooden walls creak for its owner’s return. Everything is in its place.

The last two sentences are what moves me the most. I’ve left this house of blogging many times for what glitters in the fields, abandoning my post and the upkeep. Those glittering things are many:

• Staying active on Instagram

• Curating The Honest Letters Project

• Starting up an Etsy

• Preparing a portfolio to pitch and display my art at coffee shops

• Drawing portraits at local events

They are all good things, but I think I’ve replaced these with my blog. The more I think about it, the blog is a supporting actor, an undercurrent carrying the rest of my projects and goals. It’s there hidden but without it, the others wouldn’t shine. I think that’s why I picture it as an old house still standing. The place needs cleaning up, but the foundations are still solid.

I learned this week that I’m good at gauging whether to keep pursuing a project or not. An artist friend, Tricia, pointed out that I know when to stop because I intuitively ask myself, “Do I really want to do this?” She, on the other hand, tends to go all-in to the point of exhaustion before letting a project go.

This happened with my home bakery. In the middle of baking for a pop-up shop, I thought to myself, “I don’t want to be the baker. I want to be the administrator.” There, while rolling out dough, I faced a truth that I could either accept or deny. That’s why I eventually closed my bakery. I baked for a year before stopping to prepare for our move to NorCal. I knew full well I wouldn’t continue the business in San Jose.

Embracing the truth and listening to that quiet voice inside me can be scary and somewhat disappointing because it changes my plans in an instant. I used to daydream about going to pastry school and mastering the art of dessert; I knew I could have done it and excelled, but deep down I knew that wasn’t my goal anymore. This requires holding my ideas lightly with enough space for them to shift. And although I may feel sad about the change in vision, I know I’m moving toward a more true role for myself.

So, as I contemplate how I approach projects, I’m reassured that my blog needs to keep on going. Knowing me, I would have quit it a long time ago if I knew it wasn’t for me. I lost sight of its role, but I am excited to pick up where I left off.