I can count on two hands the number of posts FensePost has published in the past two months. The same for the two months before that, and on back for likely six to eight months. For a blog that once prided itself on near daily posts for seven years, this is far from the norm.
So, where has FensePost gone?
After seven years of continual posts, exhaustion set in. I got burned out.
Blogging as I once knew it and did it — a focus on album and song reviews, artist and music video features, and the occasional interview — grew stale and tired.
Something needed to change. So, rather than address it head on I took a step back.
The past year saw many changes: I married my girlfriend of (at the time) six years; I left my previous employer to join a new one and build a new department there from scratch; I re-evaluated my personal life and financial goals, refreshed the outlook on what I truly want from life, and revisited the roots of the modern indie artists I hold so dear.
These are all quite big changes.
I would love to say that FensePost will return to its heyday of daily posts, packed with intense passion on introducing new artists and championing amazing tunes. Honestly, I cannot say that.
FensePost needs a bit of re-evaluation as well.
Where once I considered longer-form content, I’m now thinking something a bit more loose, free-form, and multi-form content is the way to go. Expanding beyond the latest tracks, videos and albums to rarities, obscurities and cool record dive finds are also on the table.
Where does that leave us? Expect less content, more sporadically posted content, and content a bit more personal. I’ll still cover new artists, but it will have a more personal twist. Maybe some original photos (see above) and plenty of embedded content.
So what’s the answer? Where has FensePost gone?
Nowhere, really (or maybe literally). We’re still here; things will just be a little different from now on.
About the Photo: Expo 86
A beginning. I snapped the above photo at my parent’s new house east of Vancouver, WA about a month ago. I spent a few days in town, going through childhood items and purging the things I do not need or want.
I was six years old in 1986. Expo came to Vancouver, BC and my family took a trip to the famed World’s Fair, which was honoring the city’s centennial. This coffee mug is the only physical item that remains from that trip.
Beyond the mug, two things stand out to me about Expo ’86. The first is a memory. There were full-size cement sculptures of classic automobiles. I remember climbing and playing on the 1964 Mustang; even then I was a bit of a petrol-head. I do not know the extent of detail the car had or whether it stood on wheels or the body sank to the ground (I’m assuming the latter as a mass of concrete would be quite weighty). I just remember it being a fond event.
The second came many, many years later from a then little known, soon to be well-known artist named Death Cab For Cutie. “Expo ’86” was released as track four on the band’s 2003 album Transatlanticism. I have always held it close to my heart.
The lyrics, too, seem to fit this post: But if I move my place in line I’ll lose. Best to enjoy life a bit more and post a bit less. The new resolve will be quality over quantity.