Robert (gurdonark) wrote,
Robert
gurdonark

a garden of sites

Don't let anyone tell you otherwise--making comments is hard work. People pop up on the internet at so many fascinating places. Every time someone writes me to say "hey, I'm over at xyz", or I find music or art by someone with an interesting weblog, I go and make a "well done" kind of comment. Usually, though, this entails yet another free membership in yet another weblog service, circle of trust, elaborate yarn-skein of digital immortality, or artspace. I used to think that some kind of odd brand loyalty should apply--"LiveJournal or not to LiveJournal, that is the question". But over time I notice that I just join. Never a borrower nor a lender be, perhaps, but joiners and participants are always welcome.

I have my xanga, with no posts, but comments. I have my MySpace, which is a really cool-looking service, a media darling of late, except that I have no idea of how to upload music to it, and now I have to go find friends. I have my deviantart.com space, which I originally set up to be able to comment to the art of others, but now actually post to once in a while. I have my dmusic.com space, where my songs get played about as often as lunar eclipses. I have my ccmixter.org, my hypnos.com membership and even post paternal wisdom from a non-parent on vault.com. I belong to dozens more, like the mirror one sees in the barbershop, that looks into another mirror, that looks into another mirror, that looks into another mirror, endlessly, without ceasing. I am an endless commenter, logging in to so many places, seeing so many things. But I can be more interactive than I am. It's all about tendrils--new growth, reaching out, a mesh of green sustenance.
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