When I created Figs & Chèvre, I was in a wine-soaked, food-obsessed stupor. And, I wanted to write.
As with most things, my obsessive interest with food ebbs and flows, and it wasn’t long before I hit a dry spell with the blog. So, I created an entirely new site about pretty spreadsheets. I’m sure that it will shock the hell out of you when I say that my new endeavor ceased to inspire me before long.
And so, I came back to y’all. I composed a few feeble blog posts about being back, but little actually changed. I wasn’t blogging.
After a lot – and I mean A LOT – of soul-searching, meditating, and journaling, I realized that I was approaching things in a way that didn’t resonate with me. I failed the authenticity test.
Here’s the thing: I was trying to fit in too hard with the whole food blogging world. You know, by creating stunning Pinterest images, marketing the hell out of my blog, and making downloadable guides that take freakin’ forever to create using expensive Adobe products…all so that you’d swap out your precious email address – which I cared about only because the big-time bloggers told me that I needed to – so that I could try to sell you shit later on.
I realized that I had had it.
I don’t want to sell you stuff. Well, at least not in the foreseeable future.
I don’t want to devote my time to becoming a professional-caliber photographer. I just want to cook! I don’t want to spend half an hour setting up props and lighting, reshooting images that look like crap, and letting my food get cold just so the world can see how awesome my dish looks while resting on a marble slab next to some strategically sprinkled powdered sugar.
No fucking way. I’m done with that.
Don’t get me wrong – I love viewing gorgeous food photography. I find it insanely inspiring, and I yearn to magically possess the skills (and equipment!) that will transport my own images to the ethereal realm. But, I don’t want to work at it…it simply doesn’t matter enough to me.
I want to cook. I want to eat. And, I want to blog…and usually in that order.
One of my favorite food blogs is Orangette. Molly Wizenberg doesn’t have an email list, maybe posts a single down-to-earth image of whatever recipe she shares, doesn’t do the whole social media or Pinterest thing, and is nevertheless wildly successful. That is, if you define blogging success as netting two best-selling memoirs and three restaurants out of the whole shebang.
So, all of that is my long-winded introduction for what follows.
I plan to write. A lot.
The project: a memoir of my protest days that is 17ish years overdue. After having a massive epiphany as a result of the above-mentioned soul-searching, I discovered that it will embrace the theme of food and community. Folks, it’s already in the works.
I’m telling you this because said epiphany changed how I wanted to blog. It’s what made me realize that my creative outlet is writing; that my favorite past times involve baking, cooking, and reading memoirs about food. And, it inspired me to approach blogging from a place that feels authentic to me.
Some days I may emphasize photography when I’m feeling particularly inspired, but most times I won’t. As a general rule, I plan to blog more from a place of passion about food or a particularly memorable experience and (perhaps) only offer up a recipe as an afterthought. Of course, my awesome blogging co-conspirator friend Darryl will maintain her own blogging style. Speaking of, I’ve really been enjoying her posts. I hope that you have, too.
Anyway, that’s it for now.
I look forward to blogging alongside my memoir-writing escapades. I revel in the notion that I can, once again, simply relax and enjoy the whole food blogging process. My blogging, as is, is enough.