For a long time I had no information at all about where I lived on my blog. My city was “My Prairie City” and that was as much as I would say. I didn’t want it to be easy for someone to find out where I lived or worked, but mostly (overpoweringly) I didn’t want local people to find my blog. While Winnipeg has a lot of big city things, from amazing restaurants to huge festivals and an overflowing arts community, it’s physically small and there can be very little in the way of privacy- to the point that sometimes it feels like meeting someone new is impossible. Every new friend has worked with an old friend, or is the cousin of your check out clerk, or used to live in the apartment you just moved into.

We fondly call them “Winnipeg Moments” – for example: the tattoo artist who shared a workspace with mine is the best friend of one of my favourite former coworkers, and that coworker who I met three years ago randomly knows all the rest of my friends through an acting connection, and my mother in law was his librarian in elementary school. It’s kind of wonderful to be so connected when you scratch the surface, and kind of like having the facebook “friends in common” feature built into day to day life.

But as fascinating as it is, the idea of including my city in my blog made me feel a little claustrophobic. There was no way that anything I wrote would stay suspended in my online life, and I wasn’t sure how integrated I wanted the two to be.

But I love writing, photography, and playing graphic designer. I love finding new blogs to read, and waking up to e-mails from people I’ve never met saying “I have too many lemons in my yard!! I know we don’t know each other, but dear god! I know you’re the only one who can help!” I love being included in the the corners of other people’s lives, and I love tugging at the corners of mine, deciding which parts to share and when. I love when the words come easily, spilling out on top of each other and always followed by the silent question:

Does anyone know what I mean?

Sometimes the silence is terrifying, and sometimes the answers surprise me.

The thing is a lot of my interests, the writing, photography, and playing graphic designer, are very solo affairs. I went to a private high school and graduated from a class of 35 people, at least 15 of whom promptly moved back to their home countries or went away to university. In university I was in a tiny subset of a tinier department, and I worked full time while going to school full time so Mister and I could afford to live on our own. I skipped the crazy university days entirely, and while I wouldn’t take back a moment of it, it didn’t leave me a chance to meet people my age in my city who share almost any of my interests.

This spring I thought a lot about my blog, and the role that it plays in my life. When I’m honest, it’s a big one. I love how blogging lends its self so well to all the things I’m passionate about and wraps them with a neat little bow. But I had trouble imagining how my online life and my offline life would rub up against each other.

I’m extremely proud of what I write every week, I’m edge of my seat excited about it! I love the community that I’ve found and how, for once, I have the creative outlet that I’ve been looking for. And I would love to meet someone who lives in the same place as me who has the same vocabulary, or who gets this funny part of my life.

Does anyone know what I mean?

So I tried looking at it another way: at the end of the day, do I want to work somewhere where something I love is considered a drawback? Do I want to muffle the things I love so I don’t have to risk being misunderstood? And… I don’t. So this spring I added my blog to my facebook, I told my co-workers and parents all the details, and I added my city to my blog. I didn’t throw a parade, but it felt like a big move for such a little change.

This month, a local blogger got in touch with me about shooting with her photography group- only for the first shoot they were short a bride. So I got into my dress, and went to meet my first locals who understand a corner of this corner of my life. People walked by, congratulating my pretend husband and I, I played with the flower girl and tried to remember not to be quite so awkward in front of the camera, and failing that to laugh.

When I pulled into the parking pad at home, smiling and ready to kick off my shoes Mister popped out from the house to ask, “How did it go?”

“Really well! They were really nice, I’m excited to shoot with them!”

“Any bloggers?”

“Microbloggers – they Tumble. They were really nice, we talked lenses and gear the whole time.”

Mister nodded, smiling, and helped me keep my dress away from the puppies as they hopped straight up into the air, hovering at waist height like rabbits in a cartoon.

While I didn’t throw a parade, bringing my online & offline lives together has felt like a big move for such a little change.

Does anyone know what I mean?

{images: the charming & sweet Miss Anny}