Wondering when the whole “wiser” part happens: Silicon Florist is 17 years old

It may seem like an odd number to fixate on, but the 17th anniversary of starting this blog is especially meaningful to me. I mean, I’m still as confused as ever as to how I’ve managed to keep doing this consistently for 17 years. Poorly… but consistently. (“ Demented and sad… but social.”) Post after post after post. (5,170 posts over the course of 6,209 days — so far.) Shouting into the ether. Typing things into the Internet. But perhaps even more confusing than my consistently and unceremoniously indulging in this bad habit, day after day, is the simple fact that you continue to show up on a regular basis to consume this drivel. Like some glutton for punishment.

But I guess it’s because we have some things in common, you and me. We believe in founders. And are intrigued by startups. And love Portland. And that’s all good in my book.

For me, the last 17 years have been insanely and shockingly rewarding. I’ve had any number of incredible and humbling opportunities to collaborate with the Portland startup community almost since the very first day I started posting about Portland startups, way back in August of 2007. I’m consistently amazed by the incredible — and incredibly random — stuff I’ve had the opportunity to do. The projects I’ve been able to support. And the collaborations I’ve been able to join.

All because I decided to register a URL at 2AM on August 7, 2007, wrangle a WordPress install over the next day or two, and starting to consistently write about what I was seeing in the Portland startup community.

But I would be completely remiss if I failed to cite the basic fact that absolutely none of those opportunities that I cherish so much — or so many of the relationships — would have ever materialized if I hadn’t started typing way back then. For 17 years, this blog has continued to remain the primary — and often sole — reason I’ve had those opportunities to collaborate with folks in our community.

Because, I mean, I’m honestly not that pleasant to deal with. Ask most people.

But this blog or Website or whatever you call it has afforded me the opportunity to collaborate with tons of amazing people who — more often than not — are entirely pleasant and enjoyable to work with. And for that, I’ll be ever thankful. And ever glad that I took the chance to start typing poorly constructed prose onto the Internet. Consistently. About a place, and the companies, and the people that — and this I truly believed — not enough people cared about, not enough people were talking about, and not enough people were celebrating.

Portland startup weren’t going to start talking about themselves. So I took their aggressive humility as an opportunity for me to do that. To open source my marketing for their benefit.

Selfishly, Silicon Florist and its accompanying newsletter have been there as an outlet for me. For nearly two decades now. An outlet to share my appreciation for founders and startups and Portland. And to share my awe in what the uniquely talented individuals in our midst are able to accomplish.

And there’s something satisfying and fulfilling in that. Whether anyone reads what I write or not. Because despite its appearances, this isn’t a news site. Or a tech publication. Or a thing of journalistic integrity and insight. This is just my personal blog. Just me, putting my thoughts and observations into the ether. Capturing and journaling happenings so that they’re not lost in time. Like tears in the rain or whatever. Although, honestly, pixels seem pretty fleeting, these days, as well.

But most importantly, I continue to write here because it’s my love letter to Portland. And to Portland startups. And Portland founders. A testament to my belief in each and every person who calls Portland home. And a testament to the creative folks who delight and inspire us everyday. To the culture of craft that drives our community.

Silicon Florist has given me a vantage point to research and analyze our community, as well. An opportunity to identify gaps and, um, opportunities. (“An opportunity to identify opportunities”? See? Not a good writer.) And as such, I’ve had the inspiration to start some new stuff. Stuff that gives me that same creative satisfaction that Silicon Florist kindled for me. I’m taking YouTube more seriously. (Because who reads longform anymore?) I’m back to podcasting (for like the 4th or 5th time). I have rededicated myself to being more engaged with my Patreon community. (Don’t worry, it’s free. You should come hang out.)

But I was also recently reminded by a friend that — despite all of this stuff and all of my consistently vomiting content onto the Internet over the years — there are still tons of people in the community who don’t know about the amazing startups here. Or the amazing people here. Or the resources that folks in the we as a community have built together — to help others navigate their way around here. They don’t know about Portland Startups Slack or Portland Startups Switchboard or the Portland startup community cheat sheet or the Portland startup community AI assistant or Calagator or a variety of other resources and events and connection points that the community has created over the years — often on a completely volunteer basis — to provide wayfinding and guidance to folks.

So there is clearly still work to do.

And so, I’ll keep typing poorly constructed prose into the ether. And blathering into the camera and microphone. In some vain attempt to make sure that people can find the resources that they need. To help them get connected. To help the find their peers. And to help ensure that every founder who takes the chance to build something here in Portland is celebrated. Because they absolutely deserve that celebration.

I think that 17 is important to me, personally, because it was the age that I left home to start the next phase of my life. And if that was the age that gave me the wherewithal to do that, then it must have been an important turning point. But 17 years is also an important milestone to me, professionally, because it always stuck in my head as a milestone that a mentor of mine had achieved. Linda Weston ran the Oregon Entrepreneurs Network (OEN) for 17 years. Seventeen years. And I still can’t even spell “entrepreneur.” So I made 17 years a milestone I wanted to achieve. And now I’ve done that.

But there is still so much more to do. And still so many more founders to celebrate. And still so so many more dots to connect.

And I’m here for it. Seventeen years in, I’m still here to do that work. And to help. And to celebrate all of you and the amazing work you’re doing. So, when you need me, I’ll be here.

And, you know, elsewhere on the Internet.

Thanks for choosing to be here on the Internet with me. Whether this is the first post you’ve read. Or the 5,170th. I really appreciate you swinging by. And I look forward to running into you the Portland startup community. Or you can always just feel free to swing by here or the YouTubes or the socials.

I’ll be here.

Previous Silicon Florist birthday posts

Birthdays make you nostalgic? Me too! So if you feel like wallowing in that nostalgia with me, please have at it. Here are a bunch of old birthday posts from yesteryear.

• Silicon Florist is two today. What a short strange trip it’s been.
• Time for big kid pants: Silicon Florist is three years old
• Four years and seven hours ago… Silicon Florist is four
• Half a decade later: Thank you for putting up with bad grammar, ridiculously long headlines, haphazard posting schedules, and an all too rosy view of the Portland startup scene
• Six years of Silicon Florist (or How a poorly written blog with ridiculously long headlines somehow spawns awesome things like PIE, TechFestNW, and Oregon Story Board)
• Golden birthday: It’s August 7 and Silicon Florist turned seven years old today
• Silicon Florist is eight. And eight is great. Or something. And stuff.
• Nine years of nonsense: Silicon Florist completes another year of assaulting the English language
• The more things change, the more they stay the same: 10 years of Silicon Florist babbling about the Portland startup community
• It goes to 11: Silicon Florist is officially a tween (Fair warning: This one is really really dark. But you can skim past that if you want some interesting historical context.)
• A dozen long stemmed Rose City years: Silicon Florist is 12 years old
• Officially a teenager: Silicon Florist turns 13 years old
• Another year older, none the wiser: Silicon Florist is 14 years old
• Silicon Florist is 15 years old… so I’m taking a sabbatical from it. It’s old enough to stay by itself for a bit.
• Old enough to drive: Silicon Florist is 16 years old

Originally published at https://siliconflorist.com on August 7, 2024.