I am a nobody.

Now there is no need to remind me of my worth, for by saying this I am not depreciating my worth.  Rather I am stating the fact that I am a drop in the ocean, a small leaf barely making a ripple as it lands on a pond.  I am a nobody in that I am not widely known.  And this isn’t a bad thing.

In fact, one might argue that it is best for the various types of artists (be they painters, sculptors, writers, musicians, etc.) to develop their skills in relative obscurity so that they can find their own voice and style before critics tear them apart and admirers give unhelpful praise.  Having an audience is good, but having too big of an audience at the start might be devastating.

So on the one paw, I don’t mind that I don’t have a large audience right now.  It gives me time to refine my work and get suggestions from a small group people whose opinions I trust.  And it allows me to keep responding personally to the comments (and favorites over on dA) that I receive.

But on the other paw, I’m getting to the point where I’m hoping to wander in and discover an explosion of people having visited.  According to the stats on the Jetpack, there were 27 views of my den on the twenty first, one less than the record of 28.  But the analytics of Google says there was only one visit on the twenty first.  O.O   Obviously they are analyzing different things (and may go by different timezones in determining when a day starts and ends).

Really, though, what gets to me the most isn’t that I have a small audience, but that it feels like I’m rambling in a graveyard overrun by trailing vines and grass. For the Jetpack says that I have received 1,225 views since it was set up (so not from the beginning) and only 18 comments.


What I’m looking for isn’t that everyone comments every time I ramble.  Rather that there is a sense of life beyond just me.  I know that I have been sporadic, which doesn’t help.  But at the same time, no one commented on my last rambling asking where I was and why it was taking me so long.  So for all I know the visitors to my den could be illusions–that a computer is just rolling dice and adding them together with the number of dice rolled proportional to the length of my ramblings and then sticking them up in the stats so that I don’t get depressed.  Thanks, Descartes.  >.>

And then there is the wonder at how much of what I ramble is read.  Because unlike some of my former roommies who would suddenly tell me that they were getting bored and might stop listening, I have no idea that anyone is even paying attention in the first place.  Will these words of mine drift through the aether of cyberspace forgotten and alone?  Though perhaps that is for the best.

Of course, I could play the nobody bit like Odysseus and use it to confuse people. “Nobody thinks I’m dead because I haven’t been commenting.” ;)   Odysseus probably was a fox…

Cry 'Havoc!' and let slip those thoughts of yours!