Shieldmaiden

This blogging-thing is a wee bit intimidating for me, especially since even private journal-writing poses unsettling questions of self-indulgence, audience (reader / readership / author). I suppose that since I’m composing, or, rather, exposing, my thoughts on the world in a public forum (Kathrine Hayles might argue a public space, but that’s another topic for another day) I do actually want readers.

I have a drive to write, but of what? I have felt, until very recently, that I’m not ready, I haven’t seen enough of the world, I don’t know enough, I’m too young, too credulous.
But that’s rather all about a kind of fear, right? And I am

karen-the-great!

I fear nothing, not even death. “I have waited on faltering feet long enough. Since they falter no longer, it seems, may I not now spend my life as I will?” (Eowyn, LoTR, RotK-5)

More later, as the day progresses. (or doesn’t, as it may be)