JOURNAL
I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT I'M DOING.
I have strong opinions about rooms, websites, sentences, and chairs. The rest is under review.
06 SEPTEMBER 2026
ON WANTING TOO MANY LIVES.
I look at other people’s lives and keep thinking: I want that too.
06 SEPTEMBER 2026
THINKING ABOUT HOW TO BUILD A LIFE THAT FEELS LIKE MINE.
I am trying to identify the parts of my life that are chosen, performed, borrowed, or simply left on the table.
06 SEPTEMBER 2026
I THINK I'VE BEEN CONFUSING BUSY WITH ALIVE.
The day was full. I am not sure that means it happened.
06 SEPTEMBER 2026
WHY DO I WANT TEN LIVES?
One life contains a surprising amount of room, and still not enough room.
06 SEPTEMBER 2026MAKING WEBSITES.
Deciding what someone sees first is a form of hospitality, and occasionally a form of control.
06 SEPTEMBER 2026WANTING TO KNOW WHAT HAPPENS NEXT.
Some books, films, projects, and people are better before the ending arrives.
06 SEPTEMBER 2026
THE THINGS I THOUGHT I WOULD HAVE FIGURED OUT BY NOW.
Career, money, taste, time, ambition, and the unfinished business of knowing when to stop.
06 SEPTEMBER 2026I KEEP STARTING THINGS.
Some experiments should end. Some are valuable because they keep the door open.
06 SEPTEMBER 2026
ON MAKING BEAUTIFUL THINGS WITHOUT KNOWING WHERE THEY GO.
The first responsibility of a beautiful thing may simply be to exist carefully.
06 SEPTEMBER 2026I LIKE PEOPLE WHO ARE OBSESSED WITH SOMETHING.
The person who notices every window is giving the rest of us a more detailed world.
06 SEPTEMBER 2026THE INTERNET MADE ME WANT A DIFFERENT LIFE.
The internet did not invent impossible lives. It put them next to the checkout button.
06 SEPTEMBER 2026MAYBE TASTE IS JUST ATTENTION PRACTICED FOR LONG ENOUGH.
Taste may begin as a preference and become a record of what we have learned to see.
06 SEPTEMBER 2026
THE BOOK ON MY DESK.
A book about trees, sculpture, and time that makes the desk feel less like a desk.
06 SEPTEMBER 2026THE WEBSITE I KEEP OPENING.
A website that understands the pleasure of a strange image and a good index.
06 SEPTEMBER 2026THE BUILDING I KEEP LOOKING AT.
A courtyard, a line of water, and the rare feeling of a building making silence visible.
06 SEPTEMBER 2026THE OBJECT I WANT.
It is a seat, a side table, and a small argument for objects that can change jobs.
06 SEPTEMBER 2026
THE FILM I DIDN'T EXPECT TO LIKE.
The film is awkward, slow, and full of the kind of silence that makes a person sit differently.
06 SEPTEMBER 2026
THE PURCHASE.
It cost less than the object I bought to organize the objects I was not using.
06 SEPTEMBER 2026
THE UNIFORM.
Clothes do not solve the day. They decide how much of the day gets to argue back.
06 SEPTEMBER 2026I CHANGED MY MIND AGAIN.
The old opinion was convincing. The new one is more interesting. I thought I wanted a clean desk. I wanted a desk that made the mess legible. There is a difference.
06 SEPTEMBER 2026A BUILDING I KEEP LOOKING AT.
I keep returning to photographs of the Salk Institute. Not to understand it completely. The courtyard keeps refusing to become a diagram.
06 SEPTEMBER 2026SOMETHING I BOUGHT AND ACTUALLY USE.
The ruler is always within reach and never looks good in a photograph. It has measured paper, a shelf, and once the width of a drawer that did not need redesigning.
06 SEPTEMBER 2026I WANT A LIFE THAT LOOKS GOOD ON A TUESDAY.
The test is not the trip or opening night. It is Tuesday at 3:20, when the room needs clearing and the work is less interesting than promised.
06 SEPTEMBER 2026I KEEP STARTING THINGS.
The new idea is always clean. It has no broken link or awkward middle. I am not going to stop starting things. I am going to ask the old things whether they need finishing.
06 SEPTEMBER 2026THE INTERNET IS A VERY STRANGE PLACE TO HAVE A PERSONALITY.
A person can now be recognizable for liking a chair, a film, a colour, or a particular breakfast. I would like to keep a few preferences private until they survive a disappointing day.
06 SEPTEMBER 2026SOME THINGS ARE BEAUTIFUL BECAUSE THEY ARE USELESS.
A small object can sit on a table and alter the table without holding anything. Sometimes the thing is just useless. Sometimes that is exactly why it gets to remain.
06 SEPTEMBER 2026I LIKE PEOPLE WHO NOTICE THINGS.
I trust people who notice the sound a door makes before they tell me whether they like the room. They have practiced looking somewhere specific.
06 SEPTEMBER 2026I WANT TO KNOW HOW EVERYTHING WORKS.
I want to know how a website remembers me, how a building carries its weight, and why one chair makes the body sit differently from another. The questions are excellent company.
06 SEPTEMBER 2026MAYBE I DON'T NEED ANOTHER PLAN.
I have made a plan for making the thing, then a plan for improving the plan. The thing is still waiting. I am going to remove one condition.
06 SEPTEMBER 2026I SAW SOMETHING BEAUTIFUL TODAY.
A curtain had fallen half open over a window and made a pale rectangle on the floor. Nothing happened. I stayed long enough for the light to move.
06 SEPTEMBER 2026I DON'T KNOW IF THIS IS A GOOD IDEA.
It is not a good idea yet. It is a shape on a page and a reason to open a new document. It has not become boring.
06 SEPTEMBER 2026THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE A QUICK PROJECT.
The quick project now has a name, a colour, and a document called NOTES 2. It is no longer quick.
06 SEPTEMBER 2026I THINK I'M BECOMING MORE SELECTIVE.
I am not buying fewer notebooks. I am becoming more selective about which unfinished thoughts get their own paper.
06 SEPTEMBER 2026I MISS BEING BAD AT THINGS.
Being bad at something privately is a relief. There is no style to maintain and no evidence to protect.
06 SEPTEMBER 2026