I have a new blog. Continue following my adventures at The Muse Takes Root.
Much love to you all!
The stats helper monkeys at WordPress.com mulled over how this blog did in 2010, and here’s a high level summary of its overall blog health:
The Blog-Health-o-Meter™ reads This blog is on fire!.
About 3 million people visit the Taj Mahal every year. This blog was viewed about 25,000 times in 2010. If it were the Taj Mahal, it would take about 3 days for that many people to see it.
In 2010, there were 21 new posts, growing the total archive of this blog to 383 posts. There were 258 pictures uploaded, taking up a total of 289mb. That’s about 5 pictures per week.
The busiest day of the year was July 28th with 274 views. The most popular post that day was something that makes me really, really happy..
Where did they come from?
The top referring sites in 2010 were artdecoblog.blogspot.com, facebook.com, search.aol.com, hello-littlelamb.blogspot.com, and android-vs-ipad.co.cc.
Some visitors came searching, mostly for damask wallpaper, jenny lewis, damask, fin de siecle, and black and white damask wallpaper.
Attractions in 2010
These are the posts and pages that got the most views in 2010.
something that makes me really, really happy. October 2008
what has come of the days. October 2008
Bits and Pieces from a Rainy Weekend May 2009
fin-de-siecle adverts, and a scrappy little poem, unedited. March 2008
Neglect her as I often do, she is resilient, this little blog o’ mine. . .
Thanks so much to the patrons and patient readers. . . you know who you are. (A special thanks to my grandmother, who checks for new posts almost every day. I love you.)
It’s late and I’ve had a long & emotional day visiting old friends. On my way to the bathroom to wash up for the night, this came to my mind. Here it is, (ironically) unedited/shaped in any way. I think there’s a few interesting things at work here: hair as a metaphor, which I always like. Also, the idea of growing up, and looking “grown up.” And the necessary allusion to Samson & Delilah anytime a woman cuts a man’s hair, only this time with the opposite effect of the Biblical precedent. Needs mulling over quite a bit, still. . .
In early summer I came home to find
your shorn hair in the sink, re-foresting
the floor tiles. you asked me to clean-up
the edges, and sat on the lip of the tub.
your brown body anchoring the white porcelain,
you laughed, Samson to my Deliliah,
while the brown threads fell
with each buzz and crackle.
Your power restored
(not diminished) in the clean lines
above your white collars.