I realized last night that Insolubilia is 4 years old. I spent some time rereading some of the first posts, and was surprised how good they were. I feel like I always see my present self as preparing to do something well, if only I can have enough time to prepare, which I never do. As such, anything I produce is (in my mind) a draft at best, not worthy of higher praise. And if that’s the case, how much more so my past work, which must surely be both immature and embarrassing? Now, to be sure, much of it is. Nevertheless I’m glad I wrote it. It is always good to remind ourselves of what we believed.
Not surprisingly, I wrestled with this early on.