Sometimes I front load my posts, and indeed I spent Wednesday evening writing Thursday through Sunday to free up my weekend to hang out with my sick kids. One of the most interesting things to me about about blogging as a form is the way it lives in the moment, carrying a sense of immediacy. At the same time, so many blog are so niche--mom blogs, design blogs, technology blogs, political blogs--that their scope is extremely narrow, giving a skewed perspective on the world. I remember struggling with this when Haiti was hit by the earthquake and there was initially no mention of it on my family blog, I suppose because it didn't immediately effect our family. I felt guilty not to recognize it.

Yesterday I was on my way to conferences at the girls' school when I heard the news of the Japan earthquake om NPR. My brother in law lives in Japan, and being here, with family there, I was amazed at how non-specific the information was. In half an hour of news, no one said WHERE the quake had hit, or how far its effects were being felt. Thankfully, my brother in law is 5 hours from Honshu, in Nara prefecture, and did not even feel the tremors. But a childhood friend lives closer to the epicenter, a colleague is traveling Tokyo, and while both are fine, the world is small, tragedy is random, and we all have a lot to lose.

How do we address natural disaster in a design blog? At the end of the day, I was glad that my pre-loaded post for yesterday was a flashback about home, though the last bit--about spaces you have lost--is suddenly thrown into a whole new context with so many people literally losing their homes. One of my many reactions was to think about the sort of frivolousness of decorating and interior design, but also to remember that our homes are havens we have created, reflecting ourselves, our families, and what we love. While life and love are of course far more important than possessions, our homes are a part of who we are, too, and I hope that it will not be long before the people of Japan can find their way home.

My sympathy goes out to a country in turmoil, and I hope we all find some way--do some small thing--to help.
Heather Peterson