Must of us who share the art slice of our lives by blogging use a set of fences and filters as we write because we are mindful that family and loved ones are regular readers, following our online adventures in the context of how they are connected with us in real life. All we reveal are scraps, shreds and coy glimpses of our lives. Deep, dark emotional secrets are rarely spewed out alongside eye-candy images of work's in progress or piles of stitched cloth.
And then there are the writers who share their lives and situations more openly, more bravely, to our delight if not for our entertainment. We follow. We come back, and we think we know and understand the writer. Sometimes personal struggles are hinted at obliquely but more often we can "tell" when someone is struggling with life by the missing posts - the stories untold, the sorrows too deep and personal to share.
Then there comes the time when the story teller simply ends the blog with a cryptic "goodbye". Those of us who work with cloth often rush to see what we can do to help mend the situation, after all we are menders, savers.
I hope that this impulse to fix things does not further dismay the one who has decided to withdraw and stop sharing their story which has turned sad and dark for the time being. I, and many others, hope that she can find her way back to sharing her life and her art sometime in the future. Ciao4now, True Stitches.