My blog is a small attempt to see better, talk clearly, strain some words and sift it into a pile of useful information. I’ve made a start at filtering on the web. Heaped albums of good photographs onto Flickr, stashed bit of paper to remember useful links and resources on Delicious, highlighted interesting blog posts using Google reader, and précised my stream of consciousness on Twitter.
So if we chatted on the pavement or in the corridor about learning technology and ICT, you could be fooled into thinking that this “oke” knows his stuff. But ask me to write – and my blindspots become, well, blindingly obvious.
Writing things on (and about) the ’net magnifies my incoherence. I have a certain post posting feeling that leaves me feeling a bit “doff”. I’ll respond to an articulate article, then re-read my response, shake my head at my idioms and vocabulary and then press submit, to once again confirm publicly that eloquence is not a strong point. Attempts to express thoughts through the keyboard magnifies an awareness of what I don’t know or what I can’t express. Constant knowledge production suggests that this problem will not disappear. No, it’s more likely that my scotomas are only going to grow.
So… time to do more than sieve data. Time to face those fears and write. I’ve been doing this privately for years, but now I’d like to let my thoughts start percolating, publicly. I’m assuming that my ideas, if accumulated and reprocessed, can be squeezed into a brew that”s tasty and refreshing. It’s likely that re-reading through my inane or inaccurately squeezed bits of knowledge could be embarrassing and that “doff Derek” might re-appear. But to become a bit more fluent, I’ve got to start writing, making mistakes, accepting correction and read my voice. If you bump into my thoughts and if they seem blindingly obvious, give them the space. They’re probably still on the boil and finding their way around. If you think “this oke knows his stuff”, but I can enlighten more, please feel free to comment. Promise, no contributions will be laughed at. If you think “doff Derek”, well sorry. We’re not behind my school desks squirming while the class gasps at foolishness. We’re learning (albeit publicly) and if you can assist me navigate beyond my blindspot, I’d appreciate the assistance.