The painting is Alors on ne sait pas (“Well, we just don’t know”) by Franciszka Temerson. It was created in 1954, the same year I was born. Temerson describes her style as bi-abstract, merging the internal and external to evoke the deep uncertainty that follows life’s turning points.
For me, her painting, carries a quiet, contemplative weight. It reminds me how quietly, almost deceptively time moves, outines and forms shifting and evolving. We don’t always notice the changes as they happen, until we pause to see how much has been transformed.
2017: I never lost my desire to capture life’s changes in writing. But I became increasingly busy, constantly participating, but rarely pausing to reflect. And during these years that the days filled, gradually my blog drifted into the background.
2020: I attempted a restart. But my familiar tools—Blogger and Windows Live Writer—were being discontinued. I hired a designer to migrate everything to WordPress, a technically successful move, but one that left me tangled in plug-ins, themes, and settings. Instead of enabling my writing, the platform stood in the way of it.
2023: My analytics and SEO crumbled as Google shifted to… something else. Another designer helped restore the underlying structure, but by then, life had taken a turn. The challenges and transitions of 2023–24 made it difficult to craft the kind of outward-facing, optimistic content I once thrived on.
Now, as my life again settles and momentum returns, I feel ready to re-engage with my community. It will take time to find my rhythm again, to ease back into the flow of writing with new tools and topics. But there’s much to share and consider —good things ahead to talk about together.
I’ll catch up with the backstory in the coming weeks and lay an easier foundation for the future. Thank you for re-following.