One thing about blog publishing that seems impossible to dismiss is the movement from the "form" of a draft to the "form" of a post. Traditional education in print composition teaches us that we should separate thoughts on a page with some concept of form (which might be thought of as space) in mind. This feels particularly relevant for those write creatively because the use of space is often vital to the meaning of a word or line. I think it may be true that form as a technique for developing content is integral to how we read, know, and move around in this world. Of course, the reversal of such could be investigated also: How do notions of content give force to an understanding of form?
Taking these questions, I wonder how one might understand a blog?--not only the way it appears to an observer (or reader? are we still readers?), but also the way it moves from start to finish. I must admit, I'm not exactly sure what it is I'm ever going to say on this blog. This is because I'm still very confused about the form I'm writing within. As any good blog publisher knows, the only space within text that blogs allow for (that is unless you want to play with html) is that blank (rectangular?) chunk(s) between "paragraphs." This is, of course, the appearance of "form," but I'm not sure I know the form or even like it. I open up Sarte's Nausea. So much of it entirely untranslatable here.
Perhaps the white space of a line left empty is space enough, though not for meditation, only for a quick breath.