It’s April 1st. The one day a year when absurdity gets a free pass.
A perfect day to start a blog—with no name, no niche, no domain, and no grand plan.
And here I am, doing just that.
This isn’t the first time I’ve started a blog. Far from it. I’ve been down this road before. In fact, if blog-starting was an Olympic sport, I’d at least be a semi-finalist. I’ve had multiple attempts in the past. Each time I’ve kicked things off with the same energy: obsessing over the perfect blog name, the cleverest tagline, the most visually stunning layout. I’ve spent hours browsing fonts, color palettes, domain name availability—anything and everything except writing.
And every single time, after building what could only be described as a beautiful online empty house, I just… didn’t move in.
No posts. No consistency. No niche. Just digital tumbleweeds blowing across unused WordPress dashboards and dead Squarespace trials.
Yet here I am again. Doing the exact same thing, with one major difference: this time, I’m starting from absolute scratch. No name. No niche. No visuals. Not even a domain. I haven’t drawn up a content calendar or written a brand story. Heck, I haven’t even figured out who this blog is supposed to be for.
Maybe that’s the point.
Why Start Something Again That Hasn’t Worked Before?
Because maybe it wasn’t about the success in the first place. Maybe I’ve always been drawn to the spark of starting—of creating something new out of thin air. Lighting the fire has always come easy to me. It’s keeping it burning that’s the challenge.
That’s something I’ve had to learn about myself the hard way. I’m the kind of person who gets excited about new ideas quickly. I can create a vibe, build momentum, even pull people in with enthusiasm. But sustaining it? Turning that spark into a slow-burning flame? That’s where I often stumble. My attention wanders. I find another idea to chase. Another fire to light.
And yet… I keep starting. Not because I expect the result to be wildly different, but because I believe that each time I start, I’m a little different.
This time, I’m trying something simpler. Something more honest. I’m just going to write. Not about an industry trend. Not about productivity hacks or thought leadership or SEO-optimized anything.
I’m going to write about starting out. About the awkward, uncertain, sometimes ridiculous process of building something from nothing.
Because if I’m going through it, someone else probably is too.
No Niche? No Problem. Maybe That Is the Niche.
A common blogging rule is: pick a niche. Know your audience. Solve a problem. Build authority. Be consistent.
Let’s throw all of that out the window for now.
Maybe, just maybe, not knowing is the niche.
This blog is a bit of an experiment in letting go. Of not knowing exactly where I’m going, but trusting that the process will reveal something worth sharing.
You could call it a diary. A logbook of the creative process. A public note-to-self. Maybe someday it will turn into a blog about building something specific—like creative projects, side hustles, or life experiments. Or maybe it will stay shapeless and personal.
Either way, this is me—writing to find out what I want to say.
What Makes This Attempt Different?
Let’s be honest: it’s very possible that this blog will also fade into the background of life. Maybe I’ll post three times and then get distracted by a new project, a new podcast idea, a new houseplant, who knows.
But there are a few things I’m doing differently this time:
- I’m not waiting for the perfect name: Naming things is fun, but it also becomes a delay tactic. This time, the name will come when it comes. Maybe after a few posts. Maybe never.
- No pressure to design a “brand.”: I’ve spent too much time in Canva and Figma without anything to show for it. This time, no logo, no brand guidelines, no color palette. Just words.
- No domain, no subscribers, no big reveal: This isn’t a launch. It’s a process. No need for a drumroll when the curtain hasn’t even been hung yet.
- I’m letting go of perfection: This is just me, showing up.
- I’m owning my tendency to fizzle: Instead of pretending I’ll be consistent forever, I’m treating this blog like a series of sprints. One post at a time. One idea at a time. If it fades, it fades. But at least I tried. Again.
Writing As a Mirror
It’s easy to forget that writing—even publicly—is really just thinking out loud.
And right now, my thoughts are circling around a few themes:
- Why is it so hard to continue something after the excitement of starting wears off?
- Why do we put so much pressure on ourselves to know the destination before we take the first step?
- What does it mean to create something just because?
These are questions I’ve been asking myself for a long time. Maybe blogging about them will help me figure out some answers. Or maybe I’ll just find better questions.
A Quick Note on April Fools’ Day
It’s no coincidence I’m posting this on April 1st.
I’ve always loved April Fools’ Day. Not the mean-spirited, internet-hoax kind. But the clever, slightly mischievous, joy-filled kind.
I even have a personal tradition of creating April Fools’ tricks—usually aimed at my wife. I walk a fine line every year. I know I’m playing with fire. But it’s my way of bringing a bit of play into the everyday.
A few years ago at work, I crafted a fake email from a stakeholder, accusing our team of serious mistakes. I sent it to my project manager Heikki, watching the panic spread. Emergency meetings were called before I revealed the prank. Thankfully, it ended in laughter.
So maybe this blog is my prank this year—on myself.
A little test to see what happens when I start something without the usual preparation. When I resist the urge to over-plan and just… go.
If You’re Reading This…
…well, first of all: wow. Hi.
I’m assuming this blog will have no audience for a while. Maybe ever. And honestly, that’s okay. This might just be a digital journal that lives quietly in a corner of the internet.
But if you are here—and you’ve ever felt the same tug to start something imperfectly, or wondered why consistency is so hard, or struggled with the gap between your ideas and your execution—maybe this blog is for you, too.
And if you have thoughts, ideas, encouragement, or just want to say hello… feel free to reach out. Though now that I think of it, I haven’t even created a contact form. Or an email. Or a comment section.
Let’s add that to the list.
Final Thoughts
This blog doesn’t have a niche.
It doesn’t have a name.
It doesn’t have a plan.
But it has a heartbeat.
It’s a small attempt to be more consistent, more open, and more forgiving with myself when it comes to creative work. It’s a place to document the spark and the struggle to keep the flame alive.
Maybe it’s a one-post wonder. Maybe it becomes something more. Either way, it starts here—with no fanfare and no fireworks.
Just a quiet little post on April Fools’ Day.
Thanks for reading.
See you… maybe next week?
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