Boloblog: Define for your reader what boloblog is exactly. Ignatius: You mean it isn’t self-evident? I haven’t been thorough then. Boloblog: I’m sure we’ll get to the bottom of this (laughs). So tell us what boloblog means and what do you hope to accomplish here? Ignatius: You’ve used the operative word here: tell. The intransitive use of a verb. Tell, tell you, tell me, tell you what I know, speak, say, express, talk, ask me what you want to know. The word bolo is any or all of these in the Indian vernacular and primarily mouthed in Hindi, India’s unifying language aside from English. Boloblog is an incarnation of my history and creative development. I'm trying to rescue positivity in a negative culture, meaning that I’m working real hard to see the good in things, their qualities and values rather than their anti-charges or absence that can be so harmful to the heart and mind. You know, the glass is half empty, etc. I don’t consider myself a crusader, armed with wisdom or words that will change the world. There are gifted writers already doing that in their work. All I want is to share my thoughts with anyone who’s interested in them. The further away the apple falls from the tree the better actually. Perhaps, there’s a consequential aura of my doing or saying something that’s good for someone else out there. Boloblog: The Internet has grown into a gigantic and far-reaching produce tree, hasn’t it? Ignatius: It has, on the visible exterior and far below the surface. It’s changed our lives. I know computers have changed mine dramatically. Boloblog: Care to explain? Ignatius: Well, I began my career in art and design in the most traditional way—using exacto knives, t-squares, rubylith friskets, presstype, waxers, rubber cement, benzene, and plastic drawing templates, you name it, just to name a few traditional creative tools. Funny, how I use the word “traditional” to describe them now. But writing, too, on paper—odds and ends, and songs and poems that amounted to nothing actually and that even seemed immature and trite in their early stages. But that’s how I worked, until the late 1980s and early 1990s when I got involved in the personal computer. I learned to think and re-act differently. Initially, I struggled with the transformation and, by the end of the decade, had improved my understanding of it in a profound way so that I was even able to help others, my wife, too. I have to say that I came into it at a good time, the right time. The transition was vital and gave me a sense and value of both worlds--the traditional and digital. Boloblog: So it’s all been good for you then? Ignatius: I have to agree. I was able to catch up with an accelerating world. Would that be centrifugal or centripetal? I’m not sure, but this rock’s moving at a pretty fast pace, really, and in a very short time by the natural history of our emergence and growth.
Boloblog: It’s taken you a while to start blogging which, in many ways, would appear to be a natural extension for a writer to do ever since blogging started ten years ago. Can you tell us a little bit about that? What has kept you from participating in this unique web community until now? Ignatius: I’m actually not clear of my holding pattern. It’s as if my life’s transformations have lifted me away from actual, direct participation in the world and made me look at myself, like a bird would do as it hovers and contemplates its next actions. I know that makes me sound selfish, but I’m just the opposite. Maybe that’s just me, and I think this kind of holding pattern isn’t happening to anyone else at all, just to me. So I’ve been doing it for about ten years, and during that time I’m writing, writing all the while—memoir and fiction to be exact, and returning to college for an education in creative writing while trying to sort through all my personal issues of family and self. But I haven’t been removed from everything either, if you know what I mean. Boloblog: Yes. Certainly. Ignatius: I’ve been engaged in a deep dialog with my alter ego during the last fifteen years or so—not in a crazy or self-involved way, but more reflectively—and took refuge in my writing. It was necessary, just as it’s necessary now for my mental health. Creative writing is bliss. It’s probably the only time in any given day when I feel like I’m doing something worthwhile with my life, not to say that work or engagement with people around me or helping others improve their lives isn’t rewarding or worthwhile, because that’s the natural part of what I do, only that I do all of it automatically. You don’t need a reason to help someone if you are able. You just do. With writing, I’m always watching what I put on paper and on the screen and how I’m doing that. Reason being, because words are powerful and carry more responsibility in them. There's an element of finality in their being said or expressed. I respect that, although I do get careless at times. Sorry, I’ve digressed. Boloblog: No, actually, you haven’t. You’ve helped to answer some of it. Ignatius: Sure, just some of it (laughs). But to return to your question about blogging, I’d always wanted to participate and knew that I’d do so eventually, just not when or how blogging would make itself known to me. Boloblog: And here you are. Ignatius: Yes.