|
It
seems strange that a computer and a modem--square,
plastic objects filled with rubber and sand--can
affect a life so profoundly, but they truly have
with me. I can't say that my life was unpleasant
or lacking in any way before I got my computer;
it was fine. It just lacked a connection to the
world beyond Vermont.
I have a severe form of Muscular Dystrophy, so I
have a tough time leaving my house. It's so much
easier to just stay home. My life was pretty good,
but of course a little unproductive. I drew interesting
pictures, watched TV, listened to music. Perfectly
enjoyable pastimes, right? Yes, of course they are,
but they don't exactly lend themselves to meeting
new people or letting you feel like you're accomplishing
all that much.
Then I got my first computer. I began to write a
novel. I started to feel more productive. However,
I was still pretty closed off from the rest of the
planet. That changed a couple years later.
It was in December 1995, I think it, that I first
went on-line. Some friends had given me internet
service as a gift. Slowly I learned of listservs
and chat rooms. The world opened up like a day lilly.
Now I could find a wealth of information and meet
all manner of cybernaut. About a year and a half
after that, I figured out how to design web sites.
Not only could I communicate with the movers and
shakers of the net, I now was one. Soon I built
numerous sites on a variety of subjects. People
started commenting on them. I met a novice web designer
with similar interests. She helped me hone my design
skills and we created a site for a little-appreciated
singer\songwriter. Not long after that, we built
a site called "The Legendary Champ," a site devoted
to the alledged creature of Lake Champlain.
With my talents I went on to start a web design
business and an on-line magazine called HOPE, a
showcase of inspirational poetry, short stories,
and articles. My little 'zine makes people feel
good. How many web sites can truly say that?
I can "talk" to netizens thousands of miles away,
be creative, and even make people smile, all from
the corner of my rickety old couch in the living
room of a tiny green house in rural New England.
Not too shabby, as we Vermonters like too say.
I highly reccomend these plastic squares filled
with rubber and sand to anyone wanting to be a full-fledged
citizen of planet Earth. It sure beats watching
General Hospital (no offence).
Copyright
© 1999 by Sean Clogston
You
can read Sean’s E-zine at: http://mountainmist.designspot.com
|
