Few housekeeping items first;
More than likely, if you have me on social media you know by now, that I officially have a logo for the blog! Words really cannot describe how excited I am for this. Yeah, it is only a small step if you are a big, popular blog or some big brand. Just a stepping stone for me and the future of this blog, hopefully all positive and forward moving. Not to mention, I had a very special person create the logo, my cousin, Carson, who is a graphic designer/artist/blogger/dog mom/amazing human being. (Wanna read her blog?! Click here)
Another exciting thing for the blog is it's own Instagram account: @agingerlifeblog
You might ask, "Why?" And that is a valid question. Answer. Because I can, and why not? It means having a place to promote my blog, other blogs, daily inspirations, random thoughts that do not need a whole blog post, and a quicker way to interact with readers. All of which will be happening very soon, so follow and stay tuned! If you are not Instagram savvy, that's OK, I will still be doing all of these things on the blog, just more spaced out.
Okay.... Now to the real part of the blog, the name.
A Ginger Life. Think about it. It is a play on words, and my genetics. But more so about the irony of living life gingerly.
Here are the technical and Urban definitions of a few terms that apply to me, apparently. To be honest, I have never been fond of the term "Ginger". Probably because I was in middle school when the term became popular from a little show called South Park, and middle school kids are kinda mean. I am used to being called a Ginger now, so, a play on the term fits the name well, at least in my opinion. Could've called it The life of a Ginger, but doesn't seem just right. (And my day to day activities are not that exciting, soo..)
The irony part of the definition gingerly, is why I chose the words in the order of the title, very carefully. Because life isn't. Life is not careful, life is not some cookie cutter thing where you know what is going to happen or how it will turn out. Cautious is something that you cannot live your life being. I mean, you can, and in some aspects, you absolutely should. Overall, not feasible. There are only a few things in life you can control, and be on the cautious side of. One of those, and kind of an important one, are words. What you say, write, and read. I write, read, re-write and re-read my blog about a hundred times before I make it public. I strategically place each word, hoping that my sentences jump off the page and resonates with you, the readers, in one way or another.
I have always been a writer. Not necessarily the "writer" that probably popped into your head immediately. Ya know, the deep thinker, has a vision, a beginning, middle and end writer. But I guess I mean I have always written. Written part of a story, part of a poem, jot down ideas for things to write about, and I am one of those people that still have a pen and paper journal in their nightstand. I have always had a journal, ever since I can remember. I specifically recall one of the first nicer journals I received. It was as a Christmas present from my New York family, visiting for the holiday. At my grandparent's house, I opened the gift and it was a maroon/burgundy velvet covered journal. I was so excited and began writing in it that evening. I have so many unique looking journals now, and a lot of random thoughts written in countless composition books. If you were to look at my bookshelf right now, you would find a collection of journals and notebooks that I am proud of.
Writing, to me, is something I feel is in my blood. My father, Dean, is a published author and has always inspired me and my sisters growing up to convey our passions, stresses, and imagination via writing or reading. He inspires me every single day to write, not just because he writes too, but because I see what writing does to him. His eyes light up when he is telling the family about the next novel on his mind, the next big idea. I see the joy it brings him. I see the hard work and countless hours he has spent doing something that feeds his soul. Being creative, living the story. It does the exact same thing to me. Writing heals me. My father is not the only writer in the family that inspires me. My Uncle John has a way with words that is so poetic, makes you want to contemplate life after reading them. He sends me poems and small excerpts of his thoughts and writings, and I love receiving them. I guess writing also makes me feel closer to my dad and uncle too. Like we share this passion and appreciate and critique and understand it all on the same level. Like the words speak to me in a different language. I almost feel like they are sitting right next to me every time I write. Which is a comforting feeling.
If you take anything away from this post, please let it be that if you ever need a gift idea for me, a journal will light up my soul and I will definitely use it. Also, that this blog is my version of stories, thoughts and life, put gingerly.
Thanks for reading!