Watching coverage of the mission, I kept returning to something previous astronauts had described: Earth looks so small from out there.

Yet, they also knew that on that dot, eight billion people were going about their days, building their habits, nursing their worries, and caring deeply about the smallest of daily details. From a few thousand miles away, those details are truly invisible. I imagine that perspective has a way of reorganizing your priorities fast.

God placed eternity in our hearts. I think that’s part of why the heavenly perspective resonates so deeply with us, even when pondering from ground level. It points to something we already sense, that we were made to hold both the vast and the small at the same time, and that the health of a life depends on keeping those two things in right relationship.

I think it’s neat that the crew of Artemis II chose to name their craft: “Integrity.”

A friend of mine has a take on daily habits that I find compelling. His point is essentially that “integrity” isn’t a single decision, it’s the accumulated weight of carefully chosen small ones, repeated over time. If you want to be a person of integrity, you have to build habits founded on good actions, and those habits have to be cultivated so they will bear good fruit.

You don’t get the big thing right by ignoring the little things. But the little things only mean something when they’re oriented in light of the big things.

That’s the tension I’ve been sitting with ever since the NASA launch. Zoom out far enough and almost nothing seems to matter – zoom way in and the details are everything. The goal isn’t to pick one or the other, it’s to practice moving between them regularly and letting them inform one another.

For me, practically, this has meant taking a hard look at where my time and attention are going; I’ve been feeling a renewed sense of what is actually worth creating and posting online as of late. My standard buckets of information – photography and creative media – are chock full of specs, hardware comparisons, incremental gear updates.

I’ve come to realize that these just don’t deserve my time nor attention. Not because those things are wrong, because they don’t stack up toward anything I actually care about, when I zoom out. There’s a kind of naive simplicity, almost a willful ignorance, in letting constant noise crowd out the signals with lasting importance.

What I want instead is to spend my time on things that will carry my family forward, that will reflect a life lived with some coherent sense of purpose. When I think about the decisions I’m making now – how I spend a Wednesday, what I write about, what I choose to ignore – I want those decisions to hold up against that outer space perspective.

Not grand gestures, just honest ones, built from habits that speak to the man of integrity that I’m trying to be.

I’ll leave you with this perspective that the Artemis II crew had on their official mission patch:

The Earth represents home, focused on the perspective we gain when we look back at our shared planet and learn what it is to be uniquely human.

— NASA

So, yeah, I guess that I’m really getting into this mission. I recommend you do the same. Zoom all the way out. See what truly matters. Then zoom back in and plan your days accordingly.

I used to hate anything labeled “decaf” because, well, I didn’t like burnt beans. In my experience at that time, the the only way roasters knew how to decaffeinate was by ruthlessly scorching it.

You’d get this extremely dark, bitter result. You couldn’t really do anything with it except drowning it in milk and sugar. You certainly couldn’t enjoy the fruitiness and nuance of lighter or medium-light roasts.

But thanks to the modernization of decaffeination techniques – CO₂ processing, sugarcane or ethyl acetate, Swiss Water Process – finding great decaf is now a whole different world. Each method involves different chemical reactions and philosophies about the best way to extract caffeine without harming the flavor.

It also has slowly changed how I define the habit of drinking coffee.

I tend to enjoy a cup of hot, black coffee maybe four or five times a week. Usually early-ish in the morning, with or right after breakfast. Even growing up, I remember my dad making coffee every morning. That smell meant the day was starting.

For a decade of my adult life, I worked at various jobs where coffee was ubiquitous with being at work. You’d walk in, there would be (at least) one pot going, and you’d return to that dark well multiple times throughout the day. Sometimes I’d have a cup at four in the afternoon – the nasty stuff that had been sitting there all day, super strong and super dark – which I would load it up with cream and sugar just to get through it.

Nowadays, I don’t really need the caffeine. I don’t even want the caffeine. Especially right at the start of a day, I don’t enjoy juicing up and experiencing those uncomfortable jitters.

Decaf has allowed me the freedom to enjoy a cup of coffee…whenever I like! I can have one with an evening meal or late dessert. Any time slot is valid, so long as it pairs well and tastes delicious.

That feels oddly satisfying to me. It reenforces the sustainable practice of simply enjoying something as the habit. Enjoying the cup for its essence more than its effect.

Yes, there are times when an upper or downer can be helpful in life. But the main reason that I drink anything is first and foremost because of how it tastes.

I owe James Hoffman a debt of gratitude for all of this. He orchestrated a massive decaf project where roasters all over the world were able to try their hands at each of the three different decaffeination processes. They were able to prepare each roast in the best manner possible. I hopped on board and purchased a tasting kit from a nearby participating roaster…my whole world opened up after that experience.

The availability of good decaf coffee has finally reached a point where I can dabble and explore flavor profiles I genuinely enjoy. That’s exciting to me! Discovering new flavor profiles from different regions that I already loved in non-decaf coffee has been a real treat.

One additional side effect that I’ve noticed: Now that I can derive these wonderful flavors from decaf, it makes having a non-decaf cup of coffee doubly energizing. For someone more socially reserved, leaning into a social situation with a non-decaf brew genuinely lights up my morning. The contrast of experiencing my first full-strength cup in a week or more makes the world feel alive in a way that it doesn’t for daily drinkers.

I was already deep down the rabbit hole of specialty coffee before all of this. But I had a problem with the amount of caffeine a regular cup would put into my system. Learning about how the caffeine gets drawn out while preserving the compounds that carry the all-important flavor has made all of the difference.

And I think that’s a wonderful thing. Making a habit of enjoying coffee should have always been the goal. I find this far more valuable than the habit consisting of putting coffee into my system. It makes for a far more delightful little journey.

Our story began with deep, shared convictions around what we believed about God, marriage, family, children, and the rest of life. We believe that it was easy for us to align our perspectives because God had preordained all the details. He knew that our waiting for the right spouse would finally be satisfied in His perfect timing.

Moving into that relationship felt like a natural extension of everything that had come before. Though there were plenty of prior examples, at least on my part, of thinking that I had things figured out ahead of time. Convictions held too strongly. Passions pursued too intensely. Ideals dreamt about too loftily.

But God, in His grace and kindness toward both of us, knew that exactly what we needed was a life spent walking hand in hand with one another.

There have been a lot of changes since our starry-eyed start together – a lot of life lived and a lot of opportunities to prove that God’s plan is indeed best. From job changes to miscarriages to facing realities about our own mortal coils, each year that passes shows us just how much we rely upon God, and that far more than we ever did before we were married.

Who would have thought that we would end up here? Who would have thought that God would show us such grace? Not only carrying us through those tough times but giving us hope for our shared future? Who would have thought that ten years’ time would not leave deep scars as it has upon many of our friends?

Yes, this marriage tells a story: That story is that we have been shown much grace.

It has been an absolute joy, the absolute crown of my life, the absolute pinnacle of my time here on Earth…and I know it is still only beginning.

Life together has completely reshaped my ambitions, dreams, and what I consider to be worth my time and attention, even against other important pursuits. Those changes would not have been possible had I been traveling alone – or with any other person – because God saw fit to yoke us together.

For that, I can’t thank Him enough…and do so every day!

I don’t know what the next decade will bring. The only clear path forward is the one that we walk together. The years ahead of us will (prayerfully) dwarf these ten that have passed so far.

Every marriage tells a story. Who would have thought that this was the one God had planned for us all along? I can’t wait to see what God has in store for the future. It is an honor and a privilege to be journeying together, as Charles & Kathryn.

NVIDIA revealed a “Vera Rubin Space-1” module designed to run AI directly on satellites, processing data in orbit instead of sending it back to Earth. That introduces new constraints. In space, cooling doesn’t work the same way, so even running a GPU becomes a design challenge. While others like Google and SpaceX are exploring data centers in orbit, NVIDIA is pushing compute directly to the edge, wherever the data already exists. (ref)

This was also fascinating, from Google:

If AI is a foundational general-purpose technology, we should anticipate that demand for AI compute — and energy — will continue to grow. The Sun is by far the largest energy source in our solar system, and thus it warrants consideration how future AI infrastructure could most efficiently tap into that power. (ref)

Philosophically, all of this makes me wonder if some of the challenges this industry are trying to solve right now – power, cooling, throughput – are all the wrong things!

If the alternative is floating asteroid-sized datacenter in space, perhaps we’re reaching too far ahead of Moore’s Law with our current ambitions. Maybe we need to find non-electrical methods for storing and processing information instead.

Also makes me wonder if I really need to worry about any of this.

The business ambition is driving the science faster and faster, which is fascinating, but I want to focus even more on the humanities that all of this needs to support on the other end.

“Bring it back down to Earth” as my Father would say.

As our family grows, our children are entering more physically capable phases of life. We’ve already gone on long hikes, climbed mountains, and tackled smaller adventures together; we’re approaching a season where extended trips and challenging excursions feel both possible and inevitable.

You probably already know that I love exploring the world with a camera in my hand. It’s a life-long hobby that I largely inherited from my Dad. My love for the craft has reached a point where I generally have far too many cameras to choose from…and I tend to bring more way than I need.

One example is our family trip to Colorado in 2023: I brought multiple film cameras, 30-ish rolls of film, and found myself enjoying the sights through a viewfinder.

It was great. Exhilarating, creatively challenging, and deeply satisfying. But it was also a lot to carry – I recall having to pass off my sling bag at one point because I needed to help one of our children down the mountain.

That trip revealed a question that I keep feeling the need to answer: What does my “essentialist” photography kit look like? Where should I cut back? How do I optimize without making a compromise that I’ll regret later?

Clearly, these are ongoing considerations that I’ll have to revisit many more times in my life. I want to use the tools I own intentionally and effectively, because I want to maximize my time, presence, and energy with my family. Over time, it’s become obvious that some pieces of gear get used consistently while others mostly collect dust in my office.

Whether I like it or not, trying to maintain too many pieces of equipment steals attention away from the fleeting moments that I’m trying to document in the first place.

All of this leads to the real question, not about cameras, but about experience: Why do I want to make pictures? What do I actually love to photograph? How do I want to engage with my family while doing it?

Photography is one of my core crafts, in addition to being my life-long hobby. But time with my family is a fleeting currency. I won’t always have these opportunities to share in their adventures.

Having a camera in my hand should enhance those moments, not compete with them, both while they’re happening and when we all look back on them later.

I will always be a dabbler; I live to tinker, explore, and push at the edges of different disciplines. But my photography should reenforce the balance between higher goals: art and science, craft and relationships, playfulness and excellence, documentation and exploration, presence and intention.

Finding balance in those areas is not a one-time decision. It is a practice. How I choose to approach that practice will shape how I remember these years…and how my family will remember me.

These expand beyond tools and processes; they affect how I think about the how and why of using cameras as creative outlets.

Right now, if I want great capabilities in photo, infrared, and video modes, then I need multiple camera bodies. That means overhead in forms of weight, complexity, and distraction.

Finding a compact powerhouse that could answer several of these needs wouldn’t truly replace my best tools. It wouldn’t be a master of any one discipline. But it might be good enough to cover most situations, which would mean it would spend more time in my hands.

That question has led me on a deep dive into the world of hybrid mirrorless cameras, resulting in an order for a full spectrum converted Fujifilm X100VI. Could it be possible that this would be a true hybrid solution that would sit in the middle of this Venn diagram?

Here’s how I see my photography efforts spread across these three categories:

Realistic

While I care about accurately representing the world around me, I also care about what it takes to practice the craft. Mobile devices, while always with me, do too many things passably and almost nothing exceptionally. Year over year, I use them less and less for photo/video tasks.

High-end video tools have been in my hands for decades – also the only college-level training that I’ve ever pursued. Knowing that I can effectively document life in both personal and professional settings means the world to me.

Digital cameras are important tools to have on hand on the photo side as well, especially beyond what a mobile device can capture. In the visible spectrum, I value having capable digital bodies that can punch above their weight, especially when scanning film or doing paid work.

Scientific

Shooting digital has opened up new worlds for me. I’ve been exploring infrared photography over the past couple of years and it has become a deep interest. While a bit maddening at times, finding the little breakthrough processes fill me with fresh enthusiasm every time.

Film is probably the most emotionally loaded category for me. I never shoot as much as I’d like and have dozens – maybe hundreds – of 35mm rolls stored at home. This was my first love in photography and has been a reality for me since the age of five.

Artistic

When you shoot film and get it right…it feels earned. I love the texture, the chemistry, the gamble of using expired rolls, and the challenge of pulling something beautiful out of materials that no longer exist. You can’t truly recreate the grain structure, color response, and light behavior of certain stocks with digital methods.

Then there are the peripheral tools, like drones and action cameras. I’ve explored the dance of full spectrum and visible spectrum hybrids here as well. While I don’t use these tools very often, I do like having an ace up my sleeve.

I want to be honest with myself that the Fujifilm X100VI is a working theory, not a conclusion. These three photographic categories feel wonderfully (hopelessly?) intertwined. Sometimes it’s hard to place a specific process or piece of kit into any one bucket.

Part of me recognizes the familiar pull of gear acquisition syndrome, another sees a genuine experiment worth running.

Downsizing always makes sense if the immaterial gains – presence, relationships, memories – are more valuable than the material losses. Would fewer, more flexible tools meaningfully reduce friction while documenting life’s adventures?

I think that it’s time to find out.

“Hey, what do you do for work?”

“Many things, mainly building stuff by writing code.”

“So how do you stay relevant in the age of artificial intelligence?”

If only I could have a dollar for each time I’ve had this conversation.

One day, nobody will have to wonder about AI’s role in society, because we will have worked through the ambiguity to effectively use whichever tools were available in our time.

I think the real question people are asking is more about a fear of the unknown rather than feeling left behind.

It’s also important to define “relevant” beyond some mythical, hyper-productive state where nothing can throw us off-course. Steady growth over time is more fitting. The honest, day-in, day-out balance of learning to swim in rough seas instead of sinking below the surface.

The good news is that staying relevant is how we grow, even as children! Adapting to the world around us and continue figuring things out as we progress through various stages of life.

Moving through these shifting realities is a skill that everyone must learn just to survive; staying afloat in rough waters is a practiced art form.

It also happens to be the kind of “talent” that keeps you moving when the path forward is hard to define. Working to stay “relevant” is just part of being human.

Tools Keep Getting Better – What’s Missing?

The Adobe Creative Suite leveled the playing field by giving everyone access to the same world-class tools like a world-class designer. But having the tools wasn’t enough. People didn’t know what was good and they didn’t have the world-class experience to wield those tools. It wasn’t just about learning the tool — it was about having the ability to recognize what good design actually was.

Canva also did an amazing job of democratizing access to a rich ecosystem of design tools. Then, people started creating templates, and companies started creating templates…now AI is creating templates.

This mixing of different elements together will never stop, but the user is ultimately the one with the final say. Will this flyer promote my birthday party? Will this app engage a community of humans to interact with one another?

The Real Skills Needed

We need to put in time to learn how these tools work, that’s a huge part of what we’re all doing right now with all the various AI services. But the problem is when we as users don’t know why those tools actually produce quality outputs. Why does that design work, what makes a good mobile app, etc.

In the coding space, you can certainly use AI tools to fill in a lot of gaps. I’m using some of these tools myself. I don’t know how to write Swift, for example, I just know how to describe what I’m trying to do like a developer would speak, which helps the AI tools to create that concept in Swift instead of React.

That said…I still don’t know if I’m doing it the right way.

I know what the output should be when writing code because I have decades of experience. But I still don’t know how to quality check that output when it comes from an AI in a language that I haven’t learned. I’m asking a robot to do that step for me. But the robot is indiscriminate about whether the solution is efficient, has good user experience in mind, has security holes…you get the idea.

The same thing happens when we put Photoshop or Canva into someone’s hands. They can put some colors and shapes together and never know if or why what they’re doing produces good design.

The balance of momentum and thriving off of fast results has to be matched by an understanding of underlying quality.

Balancing Momentum with Understanding

Quality doesn’t come from knowing how to use the tools, though that certainly is a step along the path. Quality in any field requires studying the fundamentals: the analog version, the color theory, the foundational pieces of what you’re trying to build.

What makes a good mobile app?

What makes good design?

What makes good work in any field?

You need to study the human side of these questions in conjunction with the current tools to get the job done. That’s how you stay relevant.

Good Ideas Come From Anywhere Humans

This is all only going to get faster and more intense. I think the tools are going to continue to get more fragmented, broken into smaller groups of capabilities instead of everybody using the handful of AI gateways that we use today. At least I hope that’s what happens, because right now everything is passing through a very small group of tools. Not only does that mean that our outputs are going to become more homogenized, it reduces our ability to have novel creations as individuals.

If we continue to go through similar routines and structures within AI services, we increase the risk of remixing in similar ways to one another. And remixing is the only trick that AI can do for us. It doesn’t have the ability to create based upon original thought that can only come from deep within a human.

Creative work expressed as a series of dice rolls and remixes will always be a race to the bottom. We can’t play that game. We need to develop a different set of skills that can’t be reduced to numbers on a screen.

Fresh Human-Based Perspectives

AI is definitely not replacing human work. I do agree with someone who said that it enhances human worth. That’s because it creates additional contrast between programatic outputs and the messy bits that only humans can express.

The big question is: what is human worth based upon? The individuality, the creative expression, the imagination, the dreams, the hopes, the fears? These are just some of the the human elements that need to be enhanced by these tools, and I think it’s our job to be in charge over that process.

I recently heard this quote on the Photowalk podcast:

Random but Relative Creativity, as a Human

This really speaks to the tension that I feel around what it means to develop the “talent” of staying relevant. Looking for ways to apply what you know today, to learn a new way of expressing it, tomorrow.

This goes beyond work – it’s what we do every day just being human! No matter your field of work, your phase of life, or your future hopes, you are the only person who can both view and wrangle the world in the way that you do.

Sometimes that feels random but we are always exploring and creating in relation to our own lived experiences.

Teaching the Next Generation (and Ourselves)

When I think about how to open this doorway to my own children — how do you teach somebody who is totally empty? — I realize that I don’t want to teach them how to write AI prompts. If my son wants to build a mobile app, I’ll ask: “What are you trying to do? What is the goal? What is the end result you’re trying to reach?”

I want to teach them critical thinking, surprise and delight, security, privacy…the list goes on. These concepts are so much bigger than the current ecosystem of tools we have available to us.

The skills that we need are both technical and foundational. They need to be balanced by teaching people to understand “the basic stuff” about the world.

Show me somebody who understands the value of life, can think critically, has a worldview that is accurate and whole? I can teach them to use any tool.

We can expand upon those basic foundations about life through whichever process makes the most sense in the present…so long as we retain our humanity along the way.

Deep down, people understand the value of making these tradeoffs. They understand the nuances of specific interactions and how valuable it is to encourage humans sharing moments together. Those are things we need to teach people in every time and place.

Our Shared Challenge

Your life has to be valued beyond the output of your work. There’s more to you than meets the eye. The rest of us need to learn from your perspective and steady progress along that path.

We have to start with the foundational pieces. At the center, we must ensure that everybody retains their humanity while interacting with AI. Learning to reframe what humanity-based “quality” looks like is more impactful than chasing other metrics of success.

Maybe making a buck each time someone asks about AI isn’t the sustainable strategy that I need to further my career. But working toward a future where those outside factors don’t damage my creative potential? That sounds like a “talent” worth developing.

I’m turning 40 this year. This marks about 35 years since I first held a camera, given to me by my Dad. None of the pictures that I’ve made since age five have won awards, nor afforded spectacular accolades. That never really bothered me until just recently. I went out and purchased an expensive photo printer with the hopes of making my work mean something. I hoped that I could make them more than just a grid of images online that no longer maintain their correct aspect ratio…I digress.

My flavor of photography is a sort of observational and detail-oriented hybrid; my favorite focal lengths are either the 24mm or 105mm macro on full-frame. Another camera that my Dad gave me, the trusty Nikon FE2, has become a long-time friend that somehow still produces great images all these years later.

And that’s good, because most of what I’ve photographed all these years has been just for me. Sometimes it’s a textured detail in the corner of a room, other times it’s a strange bokeh shape in a glass on the table, and still other times (more than I can count) it’s the way a painterly sky looks at the start or end of each day. The more analog and transient, the better, because those are traits that we humans share with the world around us.

That’s one thing that my Dad always encouraged me to do: Capture the amazing creation all around us by looking through the lens. Then set the camera down and enjoy the moment for yourself.

All that said, upon realizing that I was about to pass another decade milestone in my life, I heard the soft whisper of doubt over my shoulder, saying something about a lack of clear direction or accolades to show for all these years with a camera in my hands.

Then I remembered my Great Grandfather using a point-and-shoot film camera almost until he passed, just a day before he turned 102 years old. He could barely see through the viewfinder and yet, there he was, swaying slightly as he lifted his cane to hold the camera to his eyes with both hands. The photos were simple, the camera movement definitely unintentional, but he still shot away, ordering prints at the grocery store and reviewing them held inches from his face. He was quite the storyteller, you’d have liked him.

Perhaps these lessons from my elders – using gifted cameras to capture moments with cane-free determination – is the secret to the inner peace that will lead me through the next 40 years of life and photography. I still feel indebted to them for their lessons. My Dad still reminds me that he loves the way light bounces through my lens, which will always be a voice far louder than that whisper of doubt that I’ve felt this year.

My three children also carry cameras of their own now. They capture moments with a hilarious mixture of studious investigation and wild abandon. It’s refreshing to ponder how they see the world and be reminded of what it was like to peer through a viewfinder for the first time.

Where will all of this lead me? I couldn’t say. But I have drawers of film yet to shoot and stacks of photo paper yet to print. I’m in love with the process and am in no rush to reach a final destination whereby I have “arrived” as a photographer. Not sure what I’d do if that moment ever came, to be honest.

So if you know anyone who wants a print of a textured detail, strangely shaped bokeh, or Midwest sunset, tell them to drop me a line. I’ll send one their way with a smile, hoping that pictures I’ve made somehow capture the joy that a five year-old had when first holding a camera from his Dad.

We marvel at being able to hear, see, and interact with these outputs. That possibility is genuinely amazing and deserves its moment in the sunlight.

Yet, the uncanny valley remains: Even with top-tier AI models undergoing extensive (and shockingly expensive) training, the result is often so off that even children can spot it within a few seconds. This gap actually seems to widen as the fidelity of these creations increase. The more human qualities we try to imitate, the less “human” those creations become.

Something deep down tells us that it’s not right. We know it’s a fake. We see the man behind the curtain. We instinctually sense that it’s not to be trusted. We may choose to lie to ourselves, hoping that it might actually be real, just like us.

But it’s not.

Invention, it must be humbly admitted, does not consist in creating out of void, but out of chaos; the materials must, in the first place, be afforded: it can give form to dark, shapeless substances, but cannot bring into being the substance itself.

— Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley, Frankenstein

Part of of creating something that mimics real life is accepting the truth of reality: Humanity is so singular, so precise, that we feel a connection with other humans that transcends anything else in life. Humans are not the product of endless evolution cycles, we are not randomly assembled, we cannot be replicated. Each fragment of our existence is intelligently designed.

Yet, humans have a long-standing track record of creating self-defeating prophesies. The loop goes something like this:

• Dream of possible futures
• Find useful materials to refine
• Create shapes that bear our image
• Approach those shapes as if they were alive
• Wonder why they ignore, betray, and destroy our dreams

Regardless of your position on any technological milestone, there will always be a categorical separation between creature and creator. We will always feel strange when standing next to Frankenstein.

When we attempt to replicate humanity in some lower form, we are starting with raw materials that automatically disqualify the end result from having a meaningful connection with us.

It’s just not possible to build something that feels human unless you start with humanity itself.

Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic

— Arthur C. Clarke

I find a particular irony in the label, “artificial intelligence.” These tools are powerful, the limits seem endless; I’m sure that humans felt similar tensions when electricity was invented. Each significant advancement feels like the dawn of a new era, making us question what we know about our present.

While we may not understand how to properly wield this newfound power, we do know that it’s not magic. It may feel like magic at times – exchanges with ChatGPT are darn near insightful – but we know the truth, deep down. This is why it’s shocking when someone tries to anthropomorphize AI just a little too much. It’s just a little too perfect, just a little too polite, just a little too…inhuman. Everyone else can see that something has gone wrong.

The good news? Humans are the best solution to our felt need for imperfection.

We have good days, we have bad days, we get lost in thought, we tell dumb jokes, we make someone laugh when we know they want to scream. We live our lives for any number of reasons that influence others around us. We sacrifice what we have to help one another, even if we don’t know them personally.

We live, we love, we suffer loss.

Then we die.

It is appointed and destined for all men to die once

— Hebrews 9:27 (AMP)

Imitating humanity is not something new that arrived with the dawn of AI. It’s not at all wrong to portray a likeness. But we must draw the line when attempting to fill in blanks that were meant to be left void.

So where do we draw the lines?

• Representing someone truthfully has traditionally been permissible, provided that full consent was granted by that person or their estate.
• Children imagine interactions with others but their innocence is their greatest defense, as they create with intention centered on empathy.
• Revisionism or fiction to knowingly alter what someone said or did has always been discarded as inflammatory, disingenuous, or both.

On that premise, here are three examples that can be weighed and measured:

• Brown Revisited: AI-generated voices trained on Supreme Court recordings, used to “read” actual transcripts from legal proceedings. Audio only, no fictitious information, clearly used to educate and inform. (great!)
• Agatha Christie: Fully synthetic human likeness created from historical material, used to “teach” writing classes from the BBC. Family consent, using source material, but “crafted by Christie scholars” for a sale. (groan?)
• Christopher Pelkey: Lip-synced photo and AI-trained voice of a deceased victim, used to read a statement in court at the sentencing of his murderer. Fabricated by his sister, used for impact, totally original writing. (gross…)

There are untold numbers of new examples being created every day. The spectrum of applications for these technologies become more expansive with each new idea. We can envision futures where these tools afford all types of useful applications; do we stop to ask whether we should continue forward at all?

But as we wade deeper, we are also more readily swept along with the current. Have we already crossed that line?

And in the naked light, I saw
Ten thousand people, maybe more
People talking without speaking
People hearing without listening
People writing songs that voices never shared
And no one dared
Disturb the sound of silence

— Simon & Garfunkel, The Sound of Silence

We must constantly remind our fellow humans that there are underlying systems connecting us to one another. These signals are electrical, emotional, existential. They cannot be replicated using any raw materials except humanity itself.

Creating something in our image only works if we stick a big fat sign on it to remind everyone of the “artificial intelligence” inside. What happens when we forget? What should be done to those who knowingly remove that disclaimer?

Any time we anthropomorphize an object, we risk becoming overly attached to it. I’m the worst when it comes to hollering back at the robot in my phone because it didn’t know what I meant. But isn’t part of the problem that I expected it should know what to do with my random inputs?

It’s not human. It’s just code. It’s not really listening.

The true soldier fights not because he hates what is in front of him, but because he loves what is behind him.

— G.K. Chesterton

On a hopeful note: There is a clear path forward and the answer is not to throw out AI tech. We should never wholesale abandon great research, innovations, or advancements in our shared experience as creators. Humanity will benefit greatly from these leaps forward.

Yet, we cannot continue on the trend that we are right now. Resurrecting the dead or animating a likeness using falsified information is just plain wrong. This is an ethical issue that betrays the very essence of what it means to be…us.

It means we must reject any loss of dignity to our humanity, regardless of its supposed usefulness. The long-term cost is always greater than the short-term gain unless we build upon a stable foundation.

So the next time that uncanny valley appears, lean into it. Highlight the differences and contrast it with reality. Dissent with your unique voice, your personal experience, your humanity.

Your fellow humans deserve it.

This box is different. It’s going to serve as the final resting place for our sixth child.

My wife and I have three children in our home – eight, six, and three – whom we love beyond comparison, save for the special bond of husband and wife. Daily life is a sort of organized chaos as we all seek to care for one another and spend our days learning to give more than we take. We work hard, laugh harder, and occasionally cry over something (hopefully) worth shedding tears over.

Every day is a gift.

This current chapter of life has found us, more often than not, spending our days passing one another with a smile in the midst of our home.

“Dad, look at what I just made!”
“Mom, do you SEE how big that squirrel is?!”
“Kiddos, hey, do you know how much we love you?”

This sounds just as idillic as it really is; we’ve been blessed with a mixture of God’s kindness and the sort of right-place-right-time-ness that many homes only dream of having. Each day ends with me quietly doing the dishes, wondering just how I ought to use these incredible gifts we’ve been given, all the while smiling at the baby monitor, AKA my favorite streaming video channel.

Not to say that we haven’t had our share of downers, in case you’re keeping score. The road to three beautiful children has also been marked by three miscarriages.

Eleos was seven weeks old when we learned that he or she had passed. Shelah was closer to eleven weeks, far enough along that I have the image of his or her ultrasound burned into my memory. Our third lost child, yet unnamed at the writing of this post, will be making his or her journey from womb to grave at the approximate age of nineteen weeks, though the scans show development ending a few weeks prior.

All six lives of our children are equally precious, just as the lives that you and I live have equal meaning and worth. It doesn’t matter how old you are: once life is present, it holds an eternal value. The horror of early miscarriages is that you don’t have anything tangible to show for the passing of that life, beyond perhaps a few images of pregnancy tests or similar themes.

It would be (easy? understandable?) to assume that these untold tales of lives lost don’t leave the same mark as ones playing out for years in front of your eyes…but that would be a lie.

Every life is precious. Every life has value. Every life deserves dignity.

Back to the box that I just purchased on Etsy. This simple cube made of cedar is what we’ll use to lay our sixth child to rest. Unlike his or her two unborn siblings who passed with less recognizable forms, we fully intend to honor his or her frail frame with a proper burial.

This moment in time for our family of five is a somber one. But just like each breath we take is out of our control, so do the daily joys flow in: flowers from friends, meals from church members, and notes of encouragement from family far and near – just to name a few.

Our three children lost to time and providence have etched permanent marks on our hearts. The three children I watch on the baby monitor are now even more precious to me, ever more deserving of my very best attention in the days ahead. My wonderful wife has never been so beautiful, so majestic, so strong.

This family is hurting, yes, but we are learning to love one another all the more.

Every day is a gift. I hope you use yours well.

As time went on, my life habits changed. I chose to deprioritize time in the gym in favor of other activities. Fast forward to today and it’s been well over a decade since I stepped onto the court.

This week, I returned to that familiar wooden floor for some solo practice. It felt fantastic. Sounds, smells, and sensations from the leather sphere in my hands brought a huge smile to my face.

To be clear…it also felt mechanical and awkward.

I started slow, staying near the basket, focusing equally on both sides of my body. Any time my form started to falter, I would move back in until it felt correct, gradually expanding my shot circle throughout the session.

Thud, thud, thud.
Line up a shot.
Ignore onlookers.
Focus on form.
Coil and release.
Follow through.
Do it again.

My body knew what to do, my mind could see the possibilities. I was rusty. But I love it. Now it was time to put in the work.

It was funny to attempt “familiar” shots – areas of the floor that used to be my favorites – because everything felt different now. I managed to laugh more than winced as shots went astray, reminding myself aloud to not be rushed or cocky.

The goal was not to hit shots. The goal was practice. Becoming reacquainted with the joy of trying, failing, and seeing progress.

Spending time on the basketball court was not unlike writing this article. The mechanics feel a bit dry and brittle as I get back into the habit of writing more regularly.

Tap, tap, tap.
Line up the outline.
Ignore onlookers.
Focus on story.
Move and wait.
Think ahead.
Do it again.

My fingers know what to do, my mind can see the full page. I feel rusty. But I love it. Now is the time to put in the work.

When spending time in the mode of practice, everything feels possible. The goal is not analytics, praise, or future endeavors.

Victory is ensuring today’s growth, not hitting tomorrow’s goal.

Every time a shot is missed, every time a sentence needs to be rephrased, grit and patience are interwoven. We can choose to construct a garment of that material and wear it each day, but it does decay with time. It requires upkeep. It fits differently as we change with age. It will look different in a week than the rosy glow we see right now.

And that’s all just fine. This is practice.

In his book, Creativity, Inc., Ed Catmull describes the people-first practices of Pixar and their constant desire to explore. Working toward a graduate degree in 1969, Ed joined forces with Professor Ivan Sutherland, whom he affectionally names, “…one of the pioneers of interactive computer graphics.” This man had great influence in his field and inspired Catmull to pursue new things, including the very first forms of virtual reality hardware.

In 1968, [Catmull] co-created what is widely believed to be the first virtual reality head-mounted display system. The device was named The Sword of Damocles, after the Greek myth, because it was so heavy that in order to be worn by the person using it, it had to be suspended from a mechanical arm bolted to the ceiling.

If only some pictures existed of what this contraption looked like! I would love to look through our little portals and see the world of VR in its infancy. The idea of such a contraption is like seeing mainframe computers the size of several rooms or perhaps some kind of far-future technology that envelopes the user like a Holodeck.

Sutherland and Dave Evans, who was chair of the university’s computer science department, were magnets for bright students with diverse interests, and they led us with a light touch. Basically, they welcomed us to the program, gave us work-space and access to computers, and then let us pursue whatever turned us on. The result was a collaborative, supportive community so inspiriting that I would later seek to replicate it at Pixar.

This is the way. It’s our route forward for explorations into virtual worlds. Since the desire to explore new lands is so foundational to our desire to explore, the question is not IF we will all be gazing through these windows, but WHEN that technology will be commonplace.

When that happens, let’s take a lesson from Catmull, using that collective inspiration and vision to see past the limitations we have in front of us right now. These tools bring what we see in our imaginations forward to something we can see using our eyes. Our desire to gaze through portals into new worlds has never changed – we can see so much further when we go there together.

Why do these two mediums feel so different? The big difference (to my eye) is the gradation between highlight and shadow values.

Film, being a liquid medium, allows for imperceptible blending. There are no hard edges.

Digital, regardless of pixel density, is still mede up of physical squares, which always requires a hard edged transitions.

It’s subtle but the human eye can feel the difference…somehow.

I love both mediums – every tool has its place – and have many cameras on each side of the conversation. But when attempting to freeze light from a moment in time, the organic nature of film is my personal favorite; it’s the best time capsule for the perfections and imperfections of reality.

Now, this gift of singular clarity is not always appropriate, given the lack of context for replacing spent art materials vs. being on time for an important meeting. (Sorry, did I say that one out loud?) But even that is not the fault of a young mind, merely a lack of maturity to weigh and calculate the value of actions on tasks that have imperceptibly differing values.

Perhaps that is part of the lesson: learning to define and communicate the value of a task within the context of life’s changing seasons. I love how a simple OODA loop – observe, orient, decide, act – can organize thoughts and emotions toward an objective. How often do I find myself working on something that lacks defendable value purely from lack of clarity?

I think we can learn a lot from asking a child to help us remember things. Their perfect reset at the start of each day is inspiring; I’m fairly convinced that I should learn from their always-on level of focus. My momentum can slow even on well-defined tasks simply because I don’t see them to completion in a timely manner. Part of the work has been done but the excitement has worn away…so I move on.

That’s where the larger aspect of these habits snaps into view: what we model and train our children to see as true progress will be their blueprint for life. While it’s important that Dad get to a meeting on time, the life value of being dependable is the higher target we aim toward. Helping them play a role in learning that balance (ex: “ask me about that at lunch”) can do great good for everyone involved. I need that reminder just as much as they do.

One of the greatest challenges of publishing work from home is finding the balance that it requires to stay active and present in both places. My priorities during this phase of life are clearly anchored in the well-being of my family – I can’t imagine it any other way. There’s important work to be done in both places, yes, but work is like a river (ongoing) and humans are like plants (temporal).

We happily upload pictures to Google Photos every single day. The ability to centrally locate moments of our lives has been an important foundation for both me and my wife over the course of our marriage. I cannot overstate the immense gravity felt by this simple act, nor the importance of each image as a history of our lives together.

Most days, it’s an easy choice: save the memory of a loved one in a way that will allow it to be reviewed later. I carry a camera with me all the time (my phone) and missing a moment is more devastating than losing the connection with the creative process. So we capture moments with our phones and into Google Photos they go.

But I cannot ignore the angst that I feel when not uploading a photo to Instagram for weeks or months at a time. That too is not a fleeting emotion. After a while, I start to question the very act of making a picture in the first place.

Capturing moments from daily life onto photographic film requires mastering a very unforgiving medium. Patterned reflections of light find their eternal rest, carefully arranged amid silver halide crystals, and time itself seems frozen in place.

These reflections stand as witnesses to moments that would otherwise be lost. It’s an important work that I personally find immense fulfillment participating in.

Like it or not, sharing that work feels like part of the process. I mean, what happens to words that are unspoken? Who else notices a moment when it otherwise slips away?

Each time I load a camera with film, I wonder: “Will anyone ever see these frames?”

I hear the rebuttal coming from the piles of negatives: “How are you supposed to improve unless you examine the past?”

It’s true. I need to complete the scanning process to learn from my own work.

Sometimes, late at night, I can’t help but answer: “Perhaps I’ll be one of those artists whose work is discovered long after they are dead. You scrawny negatives will end up in a wooden chest, crammed into a dark attic, slowly being eaten away by the march of time. Who knows if your ability to accurately reproduce what I saw through my viewfinder will even be possible.”

…to be clear, most days I just load the camera and walk out of the room. I digress.

Comparison is the thief of joy. Yet, as it’s such a human thing to do, I’m guessing most of us need a reminder to…ya know…not do it.

Perhaps you have a great balance between creating and consuming but I’m still very much a work in progress on that front. Watching others constantly pump out new creative works is inspiring and crushing all at the same time.

However, I need to remember that the important updates were stored within Google Photos, not Instagram. Regardless of how many film negatives sit in the yet-to-be-scanned pile, I made the choice to not prioritize them.

Hindsight may yield additional clarity but I can’t imagine trading any single memory in Google Photos for a random film scan on Instagram. That was a conscious choice of my own free will and it means something.

It means, when I look back at this season of life, I need to be happy with the choices that I’ve made. I need to remember these moments accurately. Because, if I’m being honest, I truly couldn’t be any happier than I am right now.

I’m so excited to finally share this publicly. We’ve been quietly building tools for audio creators at Spooler Media and this is the first time anyone has peeked behind the curtain. It’s easily in the top two or three projects that I’ve ever worked on…and there’s so much more that we have planned!

Read the full article: https://www.spooler.fm/blog/meet-dialog-interactive-audio-made-easy/

It’s Monday, which means that new beginnings and pressures of the work week have arrived. But it’s also a time when I think that maybe, just maybe, this will be the week when I make progress toward long-term goals.

Taking action toward a goal is a funny thing, because it often looks just like doing any other thing that needs to be done that day. I was pondering what it looked like to, “live the dream” in a specific field and realized that it probably looks a lot like doing a day’s work.

Working the dream, 15 minutes a day, feels like the right way forward. Small, measured steps, taken with intention on a long path headed toward a distant goal.

Wow, done already? I’m humbled: this only took 7 minutes. But it’s more than I’ve written in a long, long time.

Now the pressure is on: can I do it again?

While I’m very much a casual gamer, this is one of my favorite ways to spend free time. It’s a privilege to play games with friends. The few folks who have shared their evenings with me over the years are some of my closest. That’s one reason that I always loved Iron Banner, because it is both a great short-term experience and also reminds me of my favorite Destiny expansion so far: The Rise of Iron

Blood for Blood

I was going through a rough season when Rise of Iron shipped. Work was super rough and the stresses were pretty extreme at times. Family is and will always be the first line of defense against invading threats to my sanity, but after they went to bed, every now and then, I scraped together time and energy to venture out into virtual space.

The visuals helped to provide an escape from some awful situations IRL, the gameplay was top notch, and the rich history of Guardians who have gone before us made for a compelling story to unwind. I listened to the soundtrack – no joke – every single day for at least a month, maybe more.

I don’t usually have a lot of time to play video games – that autumn season found me with even less free time than normal, but something about this game kept drawing me back.

The key was seeing that it had nothing to do with the game itself: Destiny is just really great at bringing people together, which was what I needed most at that time.

I have spent a lot of time with some of my closest friends exploring what Bungie has created over the years. Say what you will about Destiny, like it or don’t, I have had a blast since 2014 because I can jump in and enjoy some time hanging out with great people.

Power Overwhelming

In my opinion, Rise of Iron was specifically tailored to value the strength of the pack by first evaluating the strengths of each wolf. One of my favorite medals in the entire game was found in this setting: “Strength of the Wolf” could be yours if you managed to topple enough opponents without losing anyone on your team.

Destiny provides a lot of hero moments – especially back in the Rise of Iron days – but this medal focused on the success of the entire pack, not the qualities or performance of each individual player.

It made you think differently about how your own moments played into a larger picture of victory. You’d think twice about nabbing power ammo from someone on your team because you were genuinely considering whether they would use it more effectively. The grind for rewards was based on the survival of the entire pack, which tended to supersede one’s own desire to feel powerful. The group victory has always felt more important to me than whether I hit every shot perfectly.

It’s probably a little unpopular to talk about video games as a pass/fail based solely on those team opportunities, but that is my favorite thing about playing games, especially Destiny.

Never In Doubt

After a while, I fell into a bad habit of checking Destiny Tracker to review my K/D after each session. I was focusing on a small metric that didn’t really tell the whole story, especially when you consider that there are many different strengths involved in what defines success beyond pure kills/deaths.

More importantly: I realized that I was, “chasing the bullseye” instead of actually measuring valuable progress toward a more important goal. I made a commitment to not check for several weeks, focusing instead on the time spent with friends enjoying the game, not the stats.

It’s a privilege to spend time with friends playing games. I want to take the time that I am spending on these extracurricular pursuits and use them as more than just investments into my own personal escapism. I want that investment to mean more, to reap benefits beyond pure enjoyment, to have a purpose beyond my own sense of having fun.

In short: I want my gaming sessions to bring me closer to my friends, not further from my problems.

Wrecking Crew

In my opinion, true victory is found by focusing on the pack, not the wolf. Everyone should be doing their best to support the team and have a great time because it is something you do together. That mindset allows you to celebrate wins and hero moments without becoming focused on what makes one individual person or play the greatest thing since sliced bread.

It’s a privilege to spend time with friends playing games.

Fast-forward to the fall of 2018. A new Destiny expansion is on the horizon, just one week away. “Forsaken” looks like it will easily eclipse Rise of Iron in terms of quality, story, and required teamwork.

This excites me for many reasons, but mostly because there are rich lands to explore with friends once again. Destiny is a game that brings people together – we should always remember that the strength of the pack is the wolf, and the strength of the wolf is the pack.

Typing all day as a web developer gives me the illusion that I write many things, day-in and day-out, but when I look back over the past twelve months, I find only sparse notes and half-completed thoughts where articles, essays, and book outlines should have been.

In the spirit of making commitments that I’m not sure I will be able to keep for the next twelve months: I want to write more in 2018. Not because I need a New Year’s resolution, not because I need more to fill my time, not because my words have any specific power. I need to write more because it’s how I keep the voices at bay – the past several months of high stress at work have shown me how much I need this outlet.

This year, I hope to contribute my pen several online outlets, ranging from these little musings to a family business that I have been waiting my entire life to work on with my wife. I say this here, now, in plain view of any search engine or archive that wishes to preserve these words, as a reminder to myself about how much I need to revive this habit. The only loss to not keeping this resolution is would be own waning sanity, but the potential benefit for keeping it is health and wholesome living for both me and those around me.

I have much to speak about, much to be grateful for, much to share from the slice of life I’ve lived this far. Perhaps in another twelve months I’ll look back and see these words, glad that I took a moment to publish a trite little update that somehow relieved the pressure from the past year.

Writing comes easily, which is why I don’t do more of it. It’s a sad-but-true detail you may not have wished to learn, but it’s the truth, so I have to tell it. Stephen King once said, “If God gives you something to do, why in God’s name wouldn’t you do it?” He’s right. Time to write.

Most of my days @40Digits are spent in HTML/CSS/JS – we do a fair bit of WordPress development as well – so I definitely lean more toward the front-end skillset. I’m at home in a single flat-file microsite, WP-as-an-API for a small mobile app, etc. It’s great fun and keeps things fresh as we learn and grow in this ever changing field.

The thing that has me really interested so far in 2017 is the concept to build, “one-trick ponies” wherever I can fit them in. Staying on top of tools is one thing, but actually building something with them is a whole different matter. I’m finding that it’s easier to stay loose and ready for bigger projects when you are in a steady rhythm of building things. It makes it a lot easier to pivot if you’re already in motion.

This does one trick – display my latest projects – but it does it pretty well. I have a Google Spreadsheet that is published to the world, which allows me to grab the JSON source, which I then use as a cheap API to render that page. Is it ugly? You bet. But it was a project that took about an hour to build as a concept, so I don’t mind so much.

Building a lot of small things has made a big difference in my overall confidence this year. Strength in numbers! Plus, I’m inclined to believe that 100 duck-sized horses would win any day.

Bibop (Hyperloop)

• “Crowdstorm” your ideas. Ask for everyone’s submissions to solve something, and do so on a regular basis.

Bob (Ethernet)

• Build the simplest solution to solve the problem, then add and/or layer other solutions on top of that first one.
• FOCACA is king! “Freedom Of Choice Among Competing Alternatives” drives the status quo down and breeds innovation.

Kaitlin (Mozilla)

• Being mission-driven and focused on big ideas keeps employees involved at multiple levels.
• “Open” means more information, more security via a wealth of knowledge, and more ideas to draw from at any given time.
• “Security” does not mean locking things down and regulating every aspect of your business, product, workforce, etc.

Adam (Giphy)

• With the rise of computers, we have traded accuracy for speed in our communication.
• Stories are just information disguised as entertainment. (The lasting value is the information itself.)

Jordan (NASA: Mars)

• Sometimes incremental storage (cacheing) is more effective than long-term storage, because at least some of the data survives and can be used to shape future missions if something goes wrong. Take time to store things incrementally.
• NASA looks for: Intellectual curiosity, big picture thinking, the ability to make system-side connections, good communicators, leaders, being comfortable with change, having technical skills, appreciation for process, “proper paranoia” (appropriate to the larger goal), and high self-confidence…just short of arrogance.

Danny (Biobots)

• Building with the, “oldest information system” in working with life itself.

Davyeon (Shottracker)

• You can’t improve what you don’t measure! Teamwork means the best idea wins, no stone should be left unturned, and failing fast while iterating faster.
• Products and services need to have customer data to improve. Make your entire team participate in that information gathering.

Alex (NASA: AR/VR)

• Real-time data is essential to improvement.

To see the series of events that inspired this post, watch #DayWithCK: 009 – Inch by Inch

1) Breathe. Drink. Eat.

Few things are harder on the body than stress. Not only is it toxic to internal organs and all that gooey human stuff, but it also blocks creative thinking (by design). The body was masterfully designed, able to tolerate extreme situations, but there is always a trade-off. Take time to breathe.

2) Charge Your Phone

“One second, my phone is about to die!”

This is so frustrating when you’re in the middle of calling a tow truck, loved one, etc. Charge your connection with the outside world every chance you get, even if you have well over 50% remaining.

3) Establish Routine

Fall back on something you know. For me that’s making sure that I get some tea, talk with my fiancé, and read my Bible. Those three things are my security blanket; if I get those things done, life makes sense and the rest is negotiable.

4) No Heroics!

I wrote this one specifically for myself. I have a tendency to try and solve things on my own, which is a great example of, “unjustified complexity.” There’s no point in trying to take on the horde when flying solo! Ask for advice, listen before taking action, and plan your steps carefully.

Hope that helps. Stay tuned to my various social channels to watch the rest of this crazy journey!

Roger Ebert once said: “Sweet and sad at the same time it is sardonic and funny. We all need to talk about metaphysics, but those who know us well want details and specifics; strangers allow us to operate more vaguely on a cosmic scale. You can only say ‘I feel like I’ve known you for years’ to someone you have not known for years.” (source)

I heartily agree. Perhaps you will benefit from our shared perspective as you view this masterful piece of cinema.

The Location

The entire film takes place in the context of Tokyo, Japan. Surprisingly, the city itself, though showcased as full of expansive vistas and colorful locations, doesn’t really play much of a part in this film. Everything we care about on screen has to do with what the characters are experiencing in the city, not the city itself. Since character-driven stories are a huge favorite of mine (not to mention great storytelling technique) I found myself catching but passing glimpses of their surroundings, just as they did on their journey through the foreign nation.

The Characters

Two primary American characters take center stage throughout the bulk of this film. At a glance, it’s a pretty classic tale of two wandering souls who mutually and silently agree to keep one another company. I think it goes deeper than that, however, which will become evident later through their contrasting behavior.

Charlotte (Scarlett Johansson)

This poor girl can’t catch a break, much less a few moments with her husband of 2 years. She feels cut off from her marriage, the friends she has back home, and anything at all that would make her feel welcome. Her husband is clearly too busy to spend much time with her while on his work trip; within minutes she already feels isolated, unloved, and generally dissatisfied with a lack of ways to spend her time in the city.

Bob (Bill Murray)

This guy is in a tight spot. He just landed in Japan without a clue of how anything works. He has domestic struggles of his own, despite doing well for himself as a model for a high-dollar whiskey label. He sticks out like a sore thumb and does a great job of hoping he can go unnoticed, despite having his face plastered all over billboards. He’s a washed up actor who doesn’t want to make much noise, and his first few nights are fraught with reminders of the issues back home.

The Film

Act I

The first time these two notice one another is in the elevator at their hotel. Bob is taken by her beauty, but the scene quickly passes and we get right in to the grind of Bob’s life in Japan. He doesn’t speak the language, the folks at his photoshoot make his life tough, and he’s really starting to wonder what he is doing here.

Charlotte has no idea how to get around in the city, doesn’t understand the lack of personal space, and searches for understanding through the more traditional elements of Japanese culture. We see that her friends don’t really understand what she’s going through, either: how could you be alone and without things to do in a place like Tokyo?! She looks into the mirror and isn’t sure what she sees, how to adapt, or what to do besides assimilate into the culture around her. It’s as if her husband doesn’t remember much of her before their business trip.

Bob finds some solace at the hotel bar…mostly because he has no idea what is going on when he watches television. He finds an old film of his with crazy dubbing, which is almost as strange to his eyes as the food and Japanese customs around him. Charlotte continues to explore, not content to remain within the confines of her hotel room. She wants to see things, do things, to feel connected with the people around her.

The issue for both of our heroes, however, is that a city like Tokyo or New York isn’t built so that people can stay connected. We build these cities so that high volumes of people can do high volumes of activities within shared social and economic boundaries. The city takes them in, swallows them up, and moves ever onward, unflinching.

Neither of these characters know what to do with the reflection they see in the mirror. They are like ones who look, then immediately forget what kind of person they are.

Act II

True to form, the true introduction of our two heroes happens while “Scarborough Fair” is playing in the background. I consider the second act of this film to begin at this point, because we see the paths of two random people begin to cross as they appreciate one another’s isolation from afar.

Each think they are soul-searching and flying solo, but they really want the basic companionship of someone who understands them. In a way, I think all of us are searching for that answer, which is one of the main reasons that this film gets me every time.

“You’re just a teenager at marriage. You can drive it, but there’s still the occasional accident.” — Bob

The two meet at the bar several times and discuss philosophy, life missions, and wishing they could sleep at night. Bob has been married 25 years and wants a break. Charlotte doesn’t know what to think when she looks at her mere two years! What will the future hold? This is where it gets interesting.

“I’m trying to organize a prison break…are you in?” — Bob

They decide to venture out together and meet some of Charlotte’s friends. These folks wind up being surface-level simpletons who get kicked out of a bar for causing unrest. Bob and Charlotte spend the evening in the company of people who enjoy fun times, but they clearly want more. They play along for a while, but find themselves sitting outside, trying to figure out what exactly they are missing.

Author’s Note

This is where the film becomes of my favorites. We assume that the idea is these two people are trying to enjoy one another’s company, almost like some sort of rebound from the struggles at home. Going by the standard of most movies these days, it’s easy to feel like the director wants us to will them into bed together, because that’s how we understand healing from so much pain.

Thank goodness that Sofia Coppola has class: this is exactly what does not happen! They share a cab back to their hotel, where Bob, ever the gentlemen, kindly deposits an exhausted Charlotte into her room and leaves for his own. I couldn’t be happier with the filmmakers at this point.

This is also where we see how just how deep Bob has fallen. He’s on the phone with his wife, vainly trying to figure out how he can have the best of both worlds. He wants to be home, despite his wife’s passive aggression, but he feels as through his time in Japan is bigger than himself. He points out to his wife that it’s not “fun” there, only “different.” I think this plays into the main struggle for both of our characters.

Now my favorite song from the soundtrack now makes its entrance: “Are you awake?”

Intermission

Our two heroes continue to hang out, but nothing really changes between them. This is why I love this film so much, I think, because it shows how important common experiences are in times of need. The idea that they can spend time together without crossing the line – one that I believe is crucial to a positive view of these two characters – is something that a lot of films choose not to reenforce.

Movies like “When Harry Met Sally” are built upon the premise that opposites attract in the most extreme ways, no matter what. I reject this notion, believing that two people could actually be friends without all of the sexual tension that you might expect to find in this situation. Why do we need to believe that sex draws two people together, that the act of physical intimacy is what really matters in the long game? Charlotte is a very beautiful woman, and Bob is no clown, but I love that this film shows some restraint.

“The more you know who are you and what you want, the less you let things upset you.” — Bob

“I just don’t know what I’m supposed to be.” — Charlotte

“You’ll figure that out, I’m not worried about you. Keep writing. You’re not hopeless.” — Bob

It seems like the fundamental issue each of these characters face is not knowing what to do when nobody seems to need them. Both of them began relationships, jobs, or phases of life because they felt as though someone needed them to be there, to exist, to care. Now that their perceptions of their situations have changed, they feel stuck.

I think one of the main reasons this film resonates with me is the enduring message of hope. Despite the strange circumstances, the strange environment, and the strange mixture of cultures, these characters have a sense of hope that binds them together. Among the cherry blossoms, we see Charlotte view the simple forms of Japanese chivalry that makes every guy want to do the same for his girl. There’s a simple quality to that hope that makes us want to keep going, and it rings true deep within our souls.

When Bob seeks temporary companionship via a one-night stand with another woman, the movie takes us for a loop. Just when you think you have him figured out, you realize that he’s trying to come back from a long stretch of distance between his wife, his kids, and anything that he really cared about. It’s as if this event wakes up him up and shows him just how selfish he really is, which we see all over the face of Charlotte when she finds out.

Frankly, I don’t really care what you think about infidelity, monogamy, or sex; this moment in the film stands alone. Bob has to come to grips with just how far he has fallen, while Charlotte looks on in disgrace. He looks in the mirror and clearly doesn’t like what he sees. While on the phone with his wife the night before, he told her that she could worry about him if she wanted, but that was as far as it went. He’s at a turning point, so this last-ditch effort at finding satisfaction is where everything changes.

Act III

Charlotte is clearly hurt by the impassionate Bob whom, in her mind, has everything that she does not. Let’s be clear: she is not disappointed because he slept with someone besides her, rather she feels betrayed because he made a stupid, weak decision when faced with a tough situation that she wanted to learn from.

He has money, a wife and kids who miss him, and plenty of years of marriage under his belt to ride out this passing storm. What a letdown for someone trying to figure all of this out. She is hurt that he cheated, not on her, but on all of the things that she desperately wishes she could have.

Bob defends himself poorly and we see him learn that it was a stupid mistake, one that will only continue to distance himself from the people he loves. Not only that, but he has set a horrible example for this young girl who really needs to be shown that marriage is worth fighting for.

“Walking back to you is the hardest thing that I can do for you. Just like honey.” — Soundtrack

Fun fact: Suntory whiskey tastes a bit like honey. It’s fitting that something so personal to the film would also relate to much more in real life. I have a special reason for liking this reference, which I’m sure that I’ll share in more detail another time.

Tension continues to build between them as these realizations play out, but soon they are back to speaking terms and Bob half-heartedly apologies for his calloused behavior. Ultimately it will be his family who bears the weight of these actions, not Charlotte, but there is a marked change in the way they interact from this point forward. She is more confident, perhaps by having found a reason to live differently, and he realizes that his wife and kids really do need him more than he needs to figure things out right now.

Right at this moment, we expect them to do something that we have been secretly hoping for since the movie began. We don’t care how it happens, what it means, or how long it will last, but the tension is almost unbearable at this point. This is where the film becomes a masterpiece: Bob wakes up the next morning, alone, with only a note from Charlotte, nothing more.

I believe that the choices we make have great consequence. We aren’t just floating orbs in a murky wash of emotions and pheromones, there are real implications to what we choose to do. Bob and Charlotte take a giant step back and realize that the devotion to their marriages are more important than all of the struggle they went through in Japan, and that those unions must be preserved, no matter the cost.

The End

There are a lot of theories to what Bob says to Charlotte at the very end of the film. Some people have tried to boost the audio and discern exactly what he says at this crucial moment, but I choose to provide my own translation:

“It really does get better. Promise me you’ll hang in there, okay?” — Bob

“Okay.” — Charlotte

Let these two people live apart, choosing to fight for their marriages, learning from their time together to build new bridges toward all that matters most to them. Though signs of physical affection are rare in Japan, they stand in the crowded street and hug one another for the last time, sharing only memories of their time in the foreign land.

I loved the way Bob and Charlotte didn’t solve their problems, but felt a little better anyway. I loved the moment near the end when Bob runs after Charlotte and says something in her ear, and we’re not allowed to hear it. We shouldn’t be allowed to hear it. It’s between them, and by this point in the movie, they’ve become real enough to deserve their privacy. (source)

It’s kind of like when you spend time at a summer camp – you don’t want to part with the people you grew to love, but at the same time you are a more complete person for the life you have elsewhere.

I really appreciate what this commentator had to say about the film as a whole:

“I’m not sure if the point of the movie was to hint they will see each other again, rather that the meaning of their meeting was to help each other grow in different ways. They can live their separate lives with a feeling of fulfillment, and be appreciative of the unpredictability and joy life can bring.” (source)

They share one kiss, but is not the act of lovers. It’s the kind of affection you might expect from someone who pulled you from a burning building; these two have gone to the edge and come back, unscathed, thanks to one another. This film is too intentional to leave us with something so temporal as a night in bed.

Their goodbye is final, bittersweet, and loosens some of the tension we have been carrying throughout this amazing film. They smile, part ways, and walk away with heads held high.

It’s perfect.

I choose to believe that these to people go their separate ways and are better for it. Perhaps there are elements to this story that are significant to you. For me, this is special because most of my life has been an act of musing over appropriate actions.

A film of my life (so far) would show a young man who solves problems by working hard, serving others, and asking lots of questions in prayer. What matters, though, is that it is driven by a desire to place trust and hope in God, submitting to His plan for the direction of my life.

For our heroes in another land, this looks like their standing up for what is right, which lasts longer than a week or so in Japan. It’s the difference between being lost, or in love, with Sofia Coppola’s “Translation” of this timeless tale.

It’s the best non-love story ever written.

Note: I had the opportunity in 2014 to see an original print of this film at The Alamo Drafthouse in Kansas City and it was the kind of late-night viewing that makes you drive home in silence. “For relaxing times, make it Suntory time.“

• First time moving back to Springfield, MO (from KC)
• First two months of 60-70 hour work weeks (plus church, etc.)
• First Medium article
• First year only writing four posts on my blog (ouch!)
• First time programming with Electron, React, Particle, WP API…
• First year re-reading the same book series for the third time (Vince Flynn)
• First in-person meeting with the 5by5.tv crew (Always Be Coding!)
• First family time at the end of the year that had surprise visitors!
• First full year on the Auto Immune Paleo diet
• First time watching The Wire, finishing House, and seeing more Star Wars
• First rebuilt engine installed in my Honda Civic
• First time I skipped a flight to drive through the night to arrive on time
• First live telecast performance of Hamlet (Benedict Cumberbatch)
• First roommate who didn’t move out and get married right away
• First time being nervously excited for a new year (more soon)

I was out and about with my father today,
Spending the time in the very best way,
Looking for fireworks, on the Fourth of July,

He taught me to shop with a critical eye,
To steward my savings comin’ thro’ rye,
With his help, I learned what I should do.

I grew up in a home where no money was due,
My father worked hard and taught his kids to,
Hoping one day, they would take it to heart,

Mother stayed home and schooled us from the start,
Teaching us much and playing her noble part,
Not out of duty, because she felt it was right.

I knew from day one that we had been given light,
That if every home had this they just might,
Learn that love should be shown, for it was ample,

My brothers and sisters gave me a sample,
Of living with others and being an example,
Even through the tough times, we did not forget.

I climbed the hill with barely a sweat,
The rolling fields did not make us fret,
It was here, we celebrated Independence Day,

We ate together and talked of The Way,
How everything in life was going to be okay,
Then the sun went down, and the valley was dark.

I moved from the group holding my spark,
Hearing my father say I had reached my mark,
The firework was ready, so I lit it and ran,

We looked on as the flame reached the can,
Excited to see things go according to plan,
But no red glare came, no rockets burst in the air.

I closed my eyes as tears welled up there,
My mother took me into her arms with care,
And all of us turned, preparing to go home,

Then all of a sudden the hills shone like chrome,
Bombs burst in mid-air and filled up the dome,
As thousands of fireworks erupted, halting my flow.

I stood there amazed at the beautiful glow,
When my father bent down to explain the show,
“We celebrate with them, even when our light fades.”

What rush of emotion I felt before those cascades,
Like the rest of the nation had rushed in as aides,
And there I learned more, about living…free.

I look back on those years and can’t help but express my gratitude. My hand shakes slightly as I write these words, but not from fear of danger in the trenches; I hope one day I can make such a lasting impression on my children.

There are a lot of things I’d like to do in this life, but the first one is to finish today, this month, and this year as a free citizen. As kids, we learned to want the things we needed most: two parents, how to follow God, the value of hard work, and the importance of respecting all people.

We were given the world — soon it will be our turn to make it better.

Laugh, live, and worship as you please, so long as it doesn’t stop someone else from doing the same. Enjoy what we have and remember the cost that has been paid. Relish the journey and teach the next generation to respect the cornerstone of this great nation: freedom.

Then…I just stand there, plagued by indecision, unsure of how to approach the situation for fear of rebuke. I want to be neighborly and extend a helping hand, but to be completely honest, I feel a sense of fear that it would all be taken the wrong way. Our society does not view an offer of help the same way it used to; even holding doors open for women earns me a strange look sometimes.

But…what’s the right thing to do, watch this lady struggle against the elements, or offer to help? What is the right thing no matter who it is?

I walked over to the truck, saying good morning in a clear voice long before I got there. She looked up, still working on the icy windshield. I asked if the scraper she had was sharp enough to do the job; she smiled and warmly thanked me for the offer, saying she appreciated it but hers was getting it done. I returned the smile, offered a “good day” farewell, and headed to work feeling…strange.

With the spotlight on misogyny, feminism, and sexism in our culture today, sometimes it’s hard to remember that there are people who will make or take an honest offer for help as just that: a kind-hearted offer. No agenda, no demeaning, no reading between the lines. I would’ve felt awful if I didn’t at least offer that much, and it was refreshing to find a pleasant reaction to something that many would see as an attack on their self worth.

I was shocked at how fearful I was to even ask, though, which I take as something I need to improve, if only for the sake of contributing toward the solution instead of the problem of misinterpreted chivalries.

tl;dr – Sometimes it helps to draw a line so you can see how far you’ve come.

I never planned to be a web developer. Back in 1999, my reason for trying to output .HTM files from Microsoft Word was simple: I knew that my (brilliant) film projects would remain hidden if I didn’t have a place to put them. It was that desire that fueled me to learn HTML, CSS, and all the things to follow. They were fun at first and became the way I make a living today, but what I really wanted to do was make movies.

By the early 2000s I was enrolled in audio/video courses, making money as a video editor, computer graphics artist, and live audio engineer. Everything was going well; I was hitting my stride, pounding out the steps on another section of track.

Then…I stumbled coming around one of the turns, losing my footing and tumbling into the path of several fellow runners. It took a lot of precious time and effort to right my course, and by then I was falling behind, my lack of experience forcing me to admit that I needed to change pace. I finished the lap with a staggered rhythm and put my head down for a short sprint to catch up with the leaders.

Goals

I have a (not so) secret mission to create a series of interactive fictional stories. It’s part of my end-game, something that plays into the greater pieces of what I feel called to do. I have this dream of something between a video game, film cinematics, and an audiobook; it would pull you in and let you learn about the story at your own pace. You’d like it.

I have no idea whether or not I’ll ever craft this multimedia experience. What I do know is that I will never get there if I do nothing. Were the next years of my life to be spent in fruitless labor or mindless entertainment, I might as well stop running. This will take multiple disciplines and a lot of hard work, because some of those skills are going to take a long time to cultivate.

Markers

Some people like to talk about “resistance” in the creative process. It’s almost as though they think there’s some strange layer of tension between what we do with each day’s efforts and the direct output potential of twenty-four hours. But all of us have the same time to work with, nobody gets an extra second. Since we don’t know when it will be our time to leave this life, it seems to me that every day demands our full attention so we can look back and be pleased with how we spent them.

“Your Tauntaun will freeze before you reach the first marker!” — The Empire Strikes Back

The distance between here and my goals…well, it doesn’t really matter. I know it’s something plausible – I’d be silly to think that I could be a world-class sumo wrestler – so all that matters now is how to get from here to there. What should I be doing with my down-time? How should I spend any extra income I earn? Who can I learn from around me?

This is not a sprint, it’s a marathon. Just like any long-range goal, it takes practice, patience, planning, patience, persistence, and a whole more patience.

I have no idea how I’m going to create these stories, but I do know that having web, video, 3D, audio, and other related skillsets are all part of the larger picture. I still have to pay bills in the meantime, though, so I’m going to hone what I can in small steps, focus on technique instead of tools, and do my best to learn from every single thing my feet touch along the way.

Runners

A good friend of mine once said:

“You know, I have a PHD, but I got that degree with Papers Handed in Daily, not some secret formula.”

I love this. It’s the long, hard road, the one that has an unknown number of rocks and robbers along the way. It’s the one less traveled because there isn’t a short-term reward around every bend. It’s the path of most resistance, because you only get glimpses of the end goal. Those glimpses are like mirages for a tired traveler, something you carry with you in the long stretches of desert landscape. They keep us going, reminding us that we are in a marathon, forcing us to remember all the reasons why we do what we do.

As I round another curve, the tunnel vision kicks in, threatening to halt my progress. Yet with this limited vision I am surprised to see that I am the only one running; the success of others are not distractions, they are inspirations. Right now, I’m a web developer. One day, I’ll move on to the next discipline. Along the way I plan to enjoy the journey, desperately trying to keep my eyes on that elusive finish line. I know it will be worth the wait.

Party On

I imagine that most people go through a phase where they don’t understand – or even appreciate – any kind of celebration on their behalf. For the last many years, I have viewed birthdays as a sort of social paradox, rather than an occasion to celebrate with much pomp and circumstance.

The way I see it, I didn’t have a whole lot to do with coming into this world, so I should probably be celebrating my parents today, not the other way around. I enjoy a little attention just like most people, but I am okay with getting a few text messages in lieu of a big birthday bonanza.

MyFacePlusSpace

My older sister asked if my Facebook was locked down because she couldn’t automatically post something to my wall. I told her that I keep close tabs on what shows up there, but that it probably did make it a little bit tough for people to say hello. I really appreciate the ones who sent me a message in private; it was funny to see the difference from past years, when I had dozens of posts throughout the day from people who saw the little notification on their homepage.

Family Owned

Some good friends just launched their pilot episode of a new TLC show. One of my coworkers asked how late I was going to stay in the office on “my special day,” but it didn’t seem fitting to leave before the curtain was raised. I would later tell my parents that I spent part of my birthday refreshing analytics and enjoying the laughs/adventures of watching my good friends travel the country.

Epilogue

I know this may seem melancholy to some of you, but I don’t look at this day is anything less than what it should be; my job today was to write code, help people, and enjoy some really delicious gluten-free brownies someone made for me. That counts as a solid win for a birthday.

After getting to talk to my parents on the phone tonight, I feel like the day is complete. If you get to do good work, speak with the people you love, and enjoy some food and fruits of your labor, then that sounds like a day worth celebrating. See you next year.

I honestly don’t know if we are better or worse as people due to that change, but I do know that it has been a short transition into the screen age, and it looks like it will only become more commonplace going forward.

Still, there are folks who rarely look at the tiny sun we carry in our hands, and seldom glance at the glowing wall we gaze into at our desk. I came up to the roof of my office building to eat lunch, not look at my screen, but it’s so natural now that I don’t even notice I’m looking down.

Maybe that’s the part that I’m not sure about, the piece of the puzzle that feels upside-down. When we look at a screen we have control, we can easily lose perspective, and detachment becomes second-nature. We look at bits of information and feel a connection to something…somewhere…but you just can’t imitate face-to-face interaction through an artificial lens.

I’m grateful for the tiny factory I have in my hands, but sometimes I catch myself staring through it like a one-way window into another world, where time doesn’t matter and comrades are easy to find. If my lunch break leads me to this tiny device instead of looking out the widow at the beautiful day, maybe I need to set this down for a while.

I fully believe that our digital actions are “real life,” but if the portal snaps shut…I don’t want to be trapped inside.

Those stories suck.

In truth, some of my favorite flicks have several of these elements in them, but I’m thinking about the number of times we see these same events played out on screen. We practically come out of our seats, wondering how foolish the characters could be to fall for something so simple, yet they continue onward.

There’s really no reason you can’t start working toward that thing you want to accomplish right now, is there?

— Dan Benjamin (@danbenjamin) September 29, 2014

This is such a simple question. Perhaps so simple that it snuck under my radar and it hit me between the eyes tonight. Today was a long day; up at 6am, at the office by 8am, running errands at 6pm, freelancing by 8pm, writing at midnight. I’m doing a fair amount of freelancing right now which makes for some long days. I’m not one to come home and fire up Netflix, but to be frank, right now I’m ready for “day one” of any good habit to be, well, tomorrow.

But…isn’t that part of getting anything done? You know, doing the work?

I am forever quoting my younger brother, who said:

“Whenever you want to get something done, remember: Today is day one.”

Again, such a simple concept, kind of like the lessons we wish those fictional characters would learn. We know how works gets done, how habits are formed, and even how success is measured. It’s by doing the work.

Blogging is like working out. Every one talks about wanting to do it more, but it's the people actually doing it we admire.

— Jesse Gardner (@plasticmind) September 29, 2014

Again, this seems like such a simple thing…because there’s no mystery to it. If I want to write more, it takes making the clackity noise every day. If my goal is to spend more time on freelance/personal projects, that takes a daily effort to accomplish. Why do I scoff at the foolishness of a fictional character when I walk down the same dark hallway after them?

Today is day one, again. Now we’ll see what happens tomorrow.

Find something cool or fun to say next Friday when nothing else is going on, and you will break through.

Excellent advice from Gary Vee, as always.

We march to the beat of a steady drum.
What keeps an army on their feet?
What tool use pianists time to keep?
The beat of a steady drum.

The beat of a steady drum.
When across the keys fingers sweep.
Where vision lost would mean defeat.
We march to the beat of a steady drum.

Several of my siblings have mastered skills that both of us share. For example, my level of expertise at piano would fall under “average” at best, even though I tickled the ivories before some of them were old enough to try. I know that this seems simple, but it made me stop to wonder which “beat” is playing as I go marching along.

I have a set of friends who are excellent in their craft, traveling around the country and singing wherever they go. You and I may consider ourselves decent singers because we like the way we sound in the shower, but this family takes it to another level, they are truly excellent. Why? The concept is the same thing that helped countless armies move forward in battle, and the same thing that makes my siblings amazing at piano.

We march to the beat of a steady drum.

When comparing someone who is good at something, and someone else who is great at that same skill, there’s a lot more to consider than a sheer volume of time spent. 10,000 hours may seem like an attractive way to quantify expertise, but prolonged exposure does not guarantee mastery. There needs to be more to our history of work than hours logged; we need consistency.

Putting in the time is crucial, but I realize now, at age 28, that putting in consistent hours leads to far greater things. I love to write, but I’m rusty. I love to create digital scenery, but these days I take candid sunset shots with my phone. People don’t ask me to teach them about writing or matte painting; if someone asks me for advice, it’s generally something that they have seen me do many, many times. Every measure defines (or breaks) the pattern.

I’d like to explore this further, because I think it has a lot of influence on our habits. Routines form when habits mean something to us, which in turn have a great impact on how we use our time. I plan to get something back from time spent, and I hope you do as well. It may take us 10,000 hours to get there, so why not start today? Pick your tune, learn its rhythms, and beat the steady drum.

I have written at length about being a knowledge worker, both for myself and as part of a team. Finding 40Digits was one of the best things I have ever done in my “career.” I say, “one of” because the lessons my father taught me about work have been foundational in just about every business decision I have made. No trumping that one.

Influences and Products

Working in the web field is a funny business. I guess you could say that about a lot of things, but this space evolves fast and slow adopters get left behind. Even with the changing times and technology, there’s a set of business practices that never grow old, things that should be staples for any industry: honesty, respect for others, and a willingness to put in the time.

When you make something, you’re taking a piece of yourself and embedding it into something else. That may be physical, like the sweat from your hands, or it may be intangible, like your life experiences that draw you toward colors, shapes, or moods. All of these things are hard to quantify, but they are very real products of our work. When 40Digits announced that Barkley was acquiring our company, the first concern was what kind of “mark” they would leave on us. What types of influences would they bring, how could we contribute to something so large, and what would we do together in the future?

Balancing Autonomy

Even the most independent workers in the world need to bur shoulders with other people. Humans are relational creatures, we need the interaction and accountability. We need someone to ask, “Are you going out there dressed like that?” and listen to our half-crazed ideas for solving problems. One of our biggest strengths at 40Digits is the way we embrace Open-Book Management, which means that everyone plays a role by being totally aware of every decision the company makes. We are excited for Barkley to learn from that transparency, just as we hope to learn from their time-tested standards for creating strong companies.

So while we exist completely in the shadow of the large white-and-red rocket, we get to keep doing what we’ve been doing. It’s a funny balance between maintaining our DNA and being absorbed into the larger organism. I’m pretty excited for the opportunity to be part of that transition.

I wrote a short “getting to know you” piece for their newsletter, which I really believe reflects the tone we have going forward. We are excited and have already hit the ground running! Stay tuned.

“Every Digit Counts”

Every kid wants to be an astronaut, but climbing into the red and white rocket was daunting for our digital agency. We thrive behind the curtain, supporting your team from the launchpad, so this step was a giant leap for 40Digits.

Our captains, Josh Burch and Chris Langston, partnered together in 2003 to build one simple website. Over ten years and twenty additional digits later, they still model the same values: go above and beyond, communicate clearly, be responsible, honest, and open-minded, always build a positive, family spirit by being approachable. You’ll find their humble leadership drives us to be fiercely loyal and give our work everything we can offer.

The robots? Our drones are not mere cold computing power; each of them have a unique personality, just like the bios on our website. While we love in-jokes and qwerky sci-fi references, the robots remind us that big results happen only when individual workers unite under a common banner. Every single digit is important. We do what it takes to produce great work, we aren’t afraid to admit when we mess up, and we always look for ways to add good to the world around us.

Sometimes we keep to ourselves, but we’d love to meet you and share a few laughs. Just don’t ask us to choose between Star Trek and Star Wars unless you have time to give us your theories. This is serious business.

At the end of the day, it’s all about developing solutions to fix problems. We spend our days making other agencies look good, always at the ready to be your dedicated digital partner. We are 40Digits, and we are confident that our best work is yet ahead of us as a proud member of the Barkley family.

You can approach the act of writing with nervousness, excitement, hopefulness, or even despair–the sense that you can never completely put on the page what’s in your mind and heart. You can come to the act with your fists clenched and your eyes narrowed, ready to kick a** and take down names. You can come to it because you want a girl to marry you or because you want to change the world. Come to it any way but lightly. Let me say it again: you must not come lightly to the blank page. — Stephen King, On Writing

I broke the site so I would have to finish my new layout this week. It sounds silly, but I’ll be back, soon, and will not come lightly to this blank page.

This doesn’t mean “go be an HTML guru.” It does mean cherish the lessons of the recent past, and share them with those who missed them (or missed the point). Wisdom is not a job, but it is always an asset.

— Jeffery Zeldman (source)

This is a really great reminder to stay focused on the core issues of work online. If we forget why we got into this, or why it keeps us involved, we risk sacrificing the victories we have won in exchange for fancy code snippets. Keep the faith.

Note: This is a long post with a lot of personal insights and life lessons. If you’re a tl;dr kinda person, scroll to the bottom and read my vendetta for 2014.

1) Pursuing a New Home

In the fall of 2009, I moved to Springfield, Missouri. The idea was to spend some time learning and working with a small group of my best friends, and in the meantime we would try to learn more about life, together. Until that point I had lived in Omaha, Nebraska for the first 24 years of my life, residing either with my parents or the friends who initiated my Southward migration. I had a good church, a college degree, a great home, and was generally a picture of an average mid-twenty-something who grew up on the rolling hills of the Great Plains – working hard and loving life.

I have never written about the townhome in Omaha, Nebraska where all of this began. For a period of six months, these friends and I rented a two-story townhome, taking some of our first steps out into the wild, away from the protection of our families. We were still in the same town, but it sure felt different to pay our own rent and fix our own leaky pipes. We played a lot of Guitar Hero, burned the midnight oil, and worked our respective jobs as paperboys, gas station managers, retail clerks, and computer geeks.

Perhaps the turning point in this chapter of our lives was reading a book called Family Driven Faith. There were lots of books, movies, and other things that gave us pause, but none challenged our perceptions for the future like that title. It was the right place and time for the exact insight contained in those pages; I can’t speak for any of the others, but my individual visions and “tone” changed right around that time.

Two of the townhome members got engaged, moved out, and were married before our lease ended. One of the members moved to a new state to be with their family. I packed up the remains and moved back in with my family, determined to finish the final months of college and bolster my future with less overhead expenses. I cannot say enough times how wonderful it was to grow up with the knowledge that I could always come home, something that I swear to do for my future children until the day I die.

But…there was more to be done. More to pursue. After I graduated, I moved to Missouri and began looking for the next piece of the puzzle.

2) Pursuing the Dream Job

Now that I was here, it was time to get some work. I hunted around for jobs and searched for anything that would fit my skillset. I didn’t find anything. I was once more living with a few friends while hunting for an apartment, helping with a new church, and hoping to find work fairly soon. I had been exploring freelance WordPress work for several years, but I wanted something more consistent. I had a future to build.

Today, I still make a living working with WordPress and front-end development. I grew up with a camera in my hand and was taught to love figuring things out from a young age. This is just who I am now; it is impossible for me not to look sideways at things, trying to see them from a new perspective. I needed that skill more than I thought when I hit MO, as tech careers were/are not in abundance around this section of the country.

It was a small web shop and vacation sales company who gave me a desk and something to do, but I did not stay there very long. Within six months the boss said it was obvious that I wanted to pursue something more entrepreneurial, so I should start doing that. (In other words: You have two weeks to live.) I knuckled down and started chasing freelance web development as a full-time job, re-defining starving artist as I signed my first lease the day I was told my job was going away.

That was a really tough time, but it was exciting as well. I thought that I wanted to pursue the freelance lifestyle, that it was about the flexibility, that the ebb and flow were lofty tickets to survival. To match this goal, I got my first pre-approved credit card and accepted financial aid that matched my projected annual income. My thinking was that, with a little help from government friends, I might be able to defer the costs of living until my business really took off. Boy was I mistaken.

Note: I have written other posts about work and the journey to 40Digits; suffice to say that the pursuit for a good employer is over for a while. I really enjoy what I do, whom I work with, and the future we are building every day.

3) Pursuing Honorable Relationships

Note: In this next section, I want to make very clear that I was the one in the wrong, that the following events were because of my mixed-up ideas of what mattered most in life. I was given kind permission to expound on those points by someone whom I hurt through that confusion.

Over the course of nearly five years, I had been dating and growing closer to someone whom I met through tech ministry at my parent’s church. The two of us struck it off as we worked on a dinner theater production, talking mostly about movies and Apple computers, which I was delighted to learn could mean as much to someone else as they did me. (This pre-dated podcast networks like 5by5, thank you very much. It was a lonely time for Mac nerds.)

Our time together was exactly what both of us needed. We began dreaming about the future, finding more common ground than opposition and enjoying what we knew about our shared pursuits. I was a pre-twenty-something who moderated a Star Wars filmmaking forum and wanted to work for either ILM or Bungie, perhaps both. She was a gifted project manager who actually enjoyed talking about greenscreens and the philosophy behind The Lord of the Rings. An opportunity came up for me to take a lead concert tech position out in California, which we both thought would be a nice transition into film careers or whatever related fields we could find. I had been flown out to sign the paperwork when everything changed.

Some good friends and mentors of mine showed me things about the new job that completely changed my perspective. It was one of those light bulb moments, when you throw the brakes on everything because you just know something isn’t right. Long story short? I never moved to CA, and instead spent the next few months facing the reasons why I should never have gone through with it. Within that time I had moved into the townhome, started working for myself, and began to learn that I had been pursuing a future without a firm foundation to build upon.

This takes me back to Family Driven Faith. After reading that book, I realized that I was in no position to lead a wife and household, that I was the weak link in that portrait of the future. I knew I had to cease that pursuit for the time being, lest I damage the very thing I was trying to protect. I had seen a glimmer of the future, but it was clouded by my own shortcomings and lack of direction.

That was five years ago this month, yet breaking that off stands among the hardest decisions I have ever had to make.

4) Pursuing a New Land

Flash back to present day here in Springfield, and you might find this late-twenty-something working late at the office or helping someone set up their Christmas tree. These past few years have been filled with prospective projects, creative endeavors, lots of babies being born to close friends, and some really hard times. There is still something missing, like one piece of the puzzle is being shipped separately, someday.

I mentioned before that I’m a film guy at heart, so here are a few observations from the silver screen:

It’s a Wonderful Life

George Bailey really wanted to leave town before it was time to take over his father’s trade at the building and loan. He wasn’t trying to escape that future, but he did want to take the opportunity to get out, see a few things, and build up some of the experiences that would teach him valuable lessons for his future. I imagine a scrawl in his journal including something about his love and respect for his father, whom he knows will be his responsibility to care for one day, yet every page is filled with mild frustration built up from years of longing for more.

Inception

Dominick Cobb is a man in desperate straits. His children are in America, but he is not; significant evidence links his wife’s death to a murder charge against him. Dodging the law and trying to buy back his freedom, he spends his days traversing the fine line between subconsciousness and theft. Eventually he lands job that purchases his freedom, but along the way he is haunted by a sense of responsibility for the choice his wife made to take her own life, believing that he drove her to that point when they lost perspective.

Dan in Real Life

Dan Burns is a single father and columnist who needs to read his own advice. He spends most of the movie trying to understand why his family is getting the short end of the stick in life, eventually realizing that his pursuit of professional goals is damaging their relationship. The real goal he needs to work toward is being the best dad he can be, to fill his role in that situation for the betterment of everyone in his charge.

All of these films have something in common: Men wanting to work hard, enjoy their time on this rock, and help the people they love. I think these insights are valuable because they have to make decisions on behalf of someone who means very much to them, defining part (most) of their primary motivations through simple necessity. Sure, they could keep their jobs as managers, extractors, or writers, but what’s the point if they have to live the rest of their lives alone?

5) Pursuing Happilyness

When you chase after a bunch of things that you think might be the real goal, you may learn that you are even further away from the bigger pursuit. When you run from those primary purposes, you lie to yourself and others about your real motivations. That may sound horridly trite for something all of us deal with, but I believe that every person alive wonders about the bigger meaning behind things.

I’ve pursued a lot of things since the townhome:

• I struggled with the balance between online and offline friendships, wondering if the people posting in the forums would be there if I had a flat tire, or if I would do the same for them.

• ILM, Bungie, California, etc. were all goals that I pursued out of a desire to make things, but I never asked bigger questions about what I should be making.

• Resources like 5by5 are places where I have learned a lot of great life lessons, but the lasting effects of what my friends and I have gone through, or what my parent taught me? Those truly stuck.

Intermediate goals are not final destinations, but if treated like “someday, maybe” lists in our to-do system, they will never be reached! If you’re trying to figure out what to do after college, when to pursue a spouse, or how to get through the next week without any new gray hair, maybe it’s time to stop hunting for puzzle pieces that don’t seem to have a place. Who cares if you get new column readers, freelance gigs, or an insanely good job, if that becomes your only purpose?

I moved to Missouri because it was an opportunity to grow. I wanted to spend time working alongside people whom I care about, fighting for things that were more important than where we ate, drank, or wore. Obviously those are questions everyone has to answer at some point, but I see now that the bigger purpose was much more than the sum of its parts. I moved to Missouri to work with my best friends, yes, but not because we had projects to work on or businesses to build. It was to be here with them during a key phase of life as new families were born. Believe me, it has been quite the ride.

Prologue: Fight for the Users

All great journeys take time. You face danger and have to take new risks sometimes. You have to chase things that don’t make a lot of sense to anyone else in order to keep your companions safe. The people who will be there with you during those pursuits ought to be the closest and most precious to you.

Despite my many failings, I still have hopes of getting married and having a family of my own. The things that I pursue every day until then will pay dividends, good or bad. When that day comes it will be important to have a good foundation in place, and will undoubtedly be very apparent how I spent the time up to that point. That means doing things with a long-range goal even if it makes things extra hard in the short-term. It means working late, forging new territories, doing less for myself, and trying to invest in a future that will scale beyond my selfish needs.

If you spend your time cranking on something, I hope you do it in the service of making things happen for people. Pursuing happiness is a lonely business if you’re the only one left standing. Try to find a way to make the journey better for the people around you along the way. You may not always have them there with you.

Why the the long face? Because what all of us long to have is something we cannot take for ourselves. We long for fulfillment, value, and purpose, but those currencies are only good in the economies of people we love. They are the ones who give us that reward; no work on our part can purchase lasting value for ourselves, and even if it could, we only have a handful of decades to enjoy it anyway.

Don’t settle for empty praise or materialistic ends. Have fun pursuing things will make sense years from now. Take time this year to help other people, and I believe you’ll find…happiness.

Let’s get something straight right at the beginning: I love free stuff. There are a lot of items on this list that are not free, however, and like the rest of you I am not made of money. That said, my father once taught me that if a tool helps you get the job done faster, thus saving you time, your time is saved is likely worth the price paid for that solution. If I’m going to use my computer(s) 12+ hours a day, every minute counts. I love free stuff, but I’ll gladly support a developer for their work if I have a way to do so.

I am a front-end developer by trade, a writer by moonlight, and an obsessive-compulsive time manager by aspiration. If one tool gets the job done, I don’t like to have three in my toolbox; if we need three tools to save time, let’s use all of them. This is a list of things that keep me moving and have stood the test of time.

Mac-Specific

Working on a Mac is the first step to greatness. (I think Churchill said that.) @40Digits we use retina laptops with small drives and a ton of memory. We do local development (Apache, MySQL, etc.) and push everything through Bitbucket for our Git repos. We are primarily a WordPress dev shop (love that GitHub repo!), though myself and a few others are starting a rogue Rails sect. More on that another day.

When you work on your local machine all day, tools like SizeUp are absolutely invaluable for wrangling your windows. This is one of the apps I have used hundreds of times each day when things get crazy.

I write, code, and debug through a combination of Sublime Text and Espresso. Since we do lots of pre-processing for front-end work, I also use LiveReload…a lot. Yet another app that sees hundreds of requests pass through it each day.

Dev in Motion

I’m going to make this one its own line: YOU. SHOULD. USE. 1PASSWORD. There simply is no smoother way to manage secure data (including notes and product keys) over multiple devices and platforms, desktop or mobile.

Droplr is my current sharing tool of choice, combined with a handy Pinboard-to-Tumblr workflow (thanks, IFTTT) where I catalog solutions to common problems I encounter throughout the day. Everything in my life is kept in sync with Dropbox and BitTorrent Sync.

Another one-liner: Anything you write more than twice each day should go into TextExpander. This is one of the most essential apps I use, so much in fact that I don’t even notice the difference between typing and expanding “snippets” that I have stored over time. I have everything from WordPress code blocks to common spelling corrections in there.

I have mobile apps for all of these as well – super stuff.

Projects & Prose

I’m a big Evernote fan for curing I-should-have-this-written-down-somewhere syndrome. For task management, I love (and am always learning) OmniFocus. I cannot say enough about what I have learned from Merlin Mann and David Sparks on that front.

nvALT by Brett Terpstra is one of the few text editors I’m not sure how I ever lived without. Between that and PlainText and Drafts on iOS, just about everything that doesn’t fit into a proper Evernote notebook is synced between all of my devices.

By the way, if you’re not writing everything in some flavor of Markdown, then I officially give you permission to admit you have been wrong all this time. Go and do likewise.

Multi-Everything

Data is tough, especially when you have a lot of it. I like to use Transmit for anything that goes beyond basic command-line commands, and it has served me well over the years. When I’m at home I use Synergy to share a common keyboard/mouse between all of my devices. This project has come a long way and is such a breeze to use once you set it up.

When I’m not at home (but really need to be) I rely heavily on LogMeIn to gain access to my home office. Clipboards are another tough one to wrangle when you work/live/play online, but I’m going to shamelessly plug ClipMenu for all of your Mac-based clipboard needs. Keeping that data in sync via Dropbox is also a really handy perk of using that app.

Testing…1, 2, 3

I rely on Hues quite a bit for sampling colors and making small changes throughout the day. (Go grab the beta version – it rocks.)

Testing uptime and other web matters is a breeze with MX Toolbox, Down For Everyone Or Just Me, Pingdom Tools, What Browser Am I Using, etc.

General Insanity

Keeping your life (roughly) in order is a challenge for all of us – why do we spend so much time in ambiguity? I really like tools like Fantastical on iOS to keep my calendars up to spec, along with simple email clients like Mac Mail or Airmail so things don’t get too crazy. I also plan to start using MailTags, because “MailTags can now use OmniFocus projects.” Wow wow wow.

Remember: Every missed appointment is a deal you have broken with yourself. Don’t give your brain that kind of mess to deal with.

We have changed chat programs a couple times at work, so I use Adium as a sure-fire way to make sure there are no networks left behind. I’m a big fan of Twitter which means Wren, Tweetbot, and Twitterrific all get honorable mentions.

Onward

I saved Instacast for last because podcasts (internet broadcasts) are so very near and dear to me. I absolutely love this space and can’t get enough of places like 5by5…whom I reference all the time on this site. Way of the Future

That’s all for today – I hope this is helpful! Drop me a line if you have notes, thoughts, or general feedback on other first-world geekery.

1.

When I was eight, or maybe ten, my father and I went out to shoot pictures in the local wildlife preserve. It was one of those perfect summer days where the sun is warm and the breeze is cool, with just enough cloud cover to make the lighting a challenge. Prime weather for a photography lesson. Dad and I walked through woods, valleys, you name it. Everything was set to be our subject and nature had new life through my viewfinder. Those were, “the old days” that everyone talks about; getting a life lesson from your photo hero and eating a sandwich at a picnic table.

2.

I am told that part of the writer’s job is that they must always tell the truth. Some, for sure, take this too far, wanting to spill the beans or talk trash about their neighbors, former lovers, estranged family members…perhaps all of the above. One thing that Stephen King said about writing – I always love listening to that man discuss the craft; you don’t have to like him, just respect the amount of work he’s done and hear him out – was that you must take time to understand your approach to the blank page. How you approach the empty canvas will tell a lot about who you are, and perhaps spare your would-be readers a lot of their time, if you are too eager or too scared to tell the truth.

“Come to the page any way you like, except lightly.” — Stephen King

I think that’s sound advice, some that I don’t always want to think about when I know there are tough things to talk about. There will always be tough stuff to talk about, so it’s time to shape up or put the typewriter away.

3.

Sometimes I think all unspoken words are contained in a glass box. That box isn’t hard to see through, but it does a good job of containing the monsters words. Until that box is opened, most of us know what is in there, but it feels “Lost in Translation” until we take time to scare it into the open.

It’s easy to think that your box needs to be smashed open, unleashed onto the world, but most of us aren’t sure that would be a good thing for any of us. (Don’t you dare sing, “Say” by John Mayer; oh man, don’t get me started.) The “here and now” is what we tend to deal with when the future seems like fantasy; part of my goal is to write what I know, and on a good day perhaps a lot that I don’t, with endings that makes sense and support the bigger story in play. I’m no John the Baptist but I can’t stand to keep my hands away from these keys.

4.

There’s no way to write an article like this without talking about the job, the mission, the dream. Those three things tend to make a lot of sense to me and I like to look at the long-term; sort of like watching a colony of ants through a pair of binoculars. You could remove the glasses and see the whole picture at any time, but to see what the ants really care about you need to get in there and be with them.

In my world, those details are always making up a bigger story that spans time and space, which is why I tend to be obsessed with both the telephoto and the wide-angle view of things. My dad taught me perspective, which is one of the greatest things I can say about anyone.

5.

It’s been fun to watch the way things are constructed over time. I think everyone who feels like they have to put words on a page understands the rush of getting it all out before it goes away. For me, the words are stored away somewhere until they aren’t anymore, then they go away again. Part of writing is working to find those windows of time and be around to transcribe whatever happens to pass by.

One thing I don’t really appreciate is the idea that all prose is random. The thought of never engaging your mind, that somehow you should free yourself from any grasp on reality to really discover the truth about the world doesn’t make a lot of sense. There needs to be some bigger thing in play if we’re ever going to end up anywhere. I love looking into the small part of His-story I was thust into.

I used to say, “It’s not what you’re handed, but how you handle it.” This is pretty good, but takes away from the importance of what we are handed altogether. If there isn’t a reason for what happens in the world I’ll be the first to jettison reality and get lost in the nothingness. There is something bigger going on, however. There always is and always will be.

6.

This is where I reference that part of the glass box that makes it all to hard to tell the truth. Why I moved to a new town about four years ago, why the Reclaimer‘s pull is so strong, why I get so mad when I see people wasting their lives, why I love to write at all.

I almost moved to California back in 2008. At the time, I was starting a story about a man lost in space, focusing on his arc away from those he loved. That story told me a lot about what I felt was most important and that California would be a big mistake. There were a lot of red flags when he had to take a mission that pulled him away from everything he knew; I chose to move in with some friends and ultimately reverse-thrust on every impulse to go anywhere but an over-churched college town in the middle of Missouri.

There are times when I wonder if Missouri is better than California, but those times don’t last long so joke’s on you, world. Sometimes you have to spend time to make it up later, that’s all. I’d take a day here over anything, well, anywhere. More on the four-hour sleep nights and pursuits of happiness later.

7.

Every moment I spend writing feels like money ahead, a way into the future. Perhaps 1,000 words were never spoken because they were always bound up in that glass box, which is why I find it so helpful to break it open. All I know is that whomever took the time to read this deserves a medal in my book, as yet one more writer reunites with his pen. So long as each “block” is less frequent as the years roll on, I think things are moving forward. The words in that box, or the words passing by that window, deserve to be frozen in time on the page. That, my friends, is the truth.

When we see an app that has no sync capabilities we scoff; anything that can’t be backed up is a risk, not to mention the potential unavailability in the case of a power outage or other life-altering catastrophe. We have so much invested in these systems that we begin to think that the rest of life should fall under the same rules.

Sync-ing Ships

• — Why can’t we have instant access to everything?
• — How is it that memories can be lost in fire or flood?
• — Why shouldn’t we be able to pick and choose our way into serenity?

These questions and more tend to haunt me, because there is a purveying sense of dissatisfaction that surrounds life away from the grid. I fully endorse the online world as “real” life, though I feel as though much is lost in the translation.

We’re so bound up in sync this, send that, save everything and search for what’s missing…sometimes I wonder if are okay with the reality away from things we can’t control.

The physical world is hairy, things get sticky, we might have to deal with things we can’t understand. We can always pull the plug and fix any issue online, but we can’t do that with the real world. Shutting ourselves up or shutting our bodies down doesn’t solve anything in the other part of “real” life.

“I got a Nikon camera…”

Kodachrome is a type of 35mm film that can no longer be processed. The method it required was so specialized, that if the chemicals were a just few degrees too warm or too cold, the entire roll could be ruined. I was given two rolls of Kodachrome by my father and decided to shoot one of them on our first family trip to the Grand Canyon. Taking pictures with the knowledge that they will never be developed may seem like madness to you; for me it was almost a kind of simple security. As long as I take care of that roll, the images will be preserved on the film until I figure out how to develop them. (If anyone has any tips, please contact me!)

In our day, it seems pointless to do something that can never be appreciated somewhere else. What does that say about how we decide if something is important?

In our day, it seems pointless to do something that can never be appreciated somewhere else. What does that say about how we decide if something is important? Can you appreciate a simple walk though the park without taking pictures of your journey? Will you post the funny thing you said to someone, even if it was just between the two of you? Can you find a way to deal with all of your fellow humans, even when they have a bad day, and not run to something powered by batteries when you get a spare moment?

You can’t save everything, even with the very best technical aids. Are we so unfocused that we define lasting value based on the number of people who “like” what we do?

What’s the enduring goal? Where is your “real” life?

I think you can tell a lot about someone with how they use their “down time.” While I caught myself staring at the screen wondering what just happened – I don’t really know what it’s like to have free time – there were a few salient points that I found helpful with redeeming that availability.

Working…Constantly

I’m much more apt to perform a “Four-Hour Sleep Night” than a “Four-Hour Work Week.” My personal M.O. is largely inspired by what one of my favorite pastors once said:

“Work as hard and fast as you can, then leave it there and get back to your family.” — Paul Washer

This idea of constant motion intrigues me. I come from a family of workaholics, so this can be a snare whenever I am tempted to put my head down and plow forward. I don’t like to sit idle and feel that every moment – especially when we’re on the clock – should be able to be defended when we have to account for the way we used them. Why anyone would believe that they should only put forth the minimum effort is truly beyond me.

Sometimes, however, you just run out of things to work on. Now what?

Reclaiming the time doesn’t have to mean that you’re on the go 24/7 with all cylinders firing at maximum efficiency. Arguably, that kind of pacing would kill us very quickly. What we need is a plan for what happens when things go really well instead of just planning for failure.

What? Plan for success? How does that work?

The idea is really simple: Make a plan for what happens when things go exactly as they should, when things run smoothly, when you work at peak speed. Asking yourself to imagine what this would be like is more than just a pipe dream, you’re forcing your brain to visualize what success will look like. This helps you evaluate your goals and, ultimately, understand what the finish line looks like before you catch yourself running extra laps.

The day that I “ran out of things to do” was a time when I really lost perspective on the larger picture. It was easy to look around and think that everything was done, but still somehow feel buried later that day. Why? I lost sight of the goal, even with a great task list of projects and objectives.

I think this is where the definition of your real work and priorities come in. Any time you try to work (or live) for something that doesn’t really matter, you will burn yourself out a lot faster than you expected. This is why I believe that Christians need to have a firm grasp on their identity in Christ – don’t settle for definition within a trade!

Try thinking about what to do when things are going better than expected. You may find that you have extra time in your day to do other tasks that truly matter. In a day of staring into pixelated wastelands, I urge you to plan ahead, and be better. Go make something!

Yesterday I received a phone call from someone here in Springfield, Missouri. They had been put in touch with me via a mutual contact and called to ask about building a website. I gladly took the call, got out my pen and paper, and prepared for the toughest part of every freelancer’s day; talking with a potential client.

The voice on the other side of the line was easy going, experienced, and eager to learn. I had sent them my standard, “Here’s my business, here’s what I do, here’s my phone number” email just a day earlier, having a few examples in a simple one-page page presentation of things I am proud to have worked on.

Imagine my surprise when they opened with the following statement:

“You’re way too slick for my little website. You have a business, I’m taking up way too much of your time on this call.”

I have to admit, that comment was a little fun to hear, because I have worked really hard to build something worth viewing online. That said, I knew there had to be more to the story.

This is Business

Your job as a business person, whether freelance or otherwise, is doing great work regardless of who is watching. I love the phrase, “Truth is Undefeated” because it always manages to ring true despite any efforts to thwart it.

I am nearing a scary point in my life; soon I will have been online longer than I ever was offline. Part of my “mission” when working with the tools of our day is to uphold the values I was given as a child, even in the wild west of our always-on age. If this ever lapses as a primary part of what I do, who I am, or what people know about me, I will consider it a terrible loss.

Think about it: Any time you do business, whether online or at the supermarket, someone can see something about your values. I am not a designer, but there are a lot of hours invested in the content I put on my site(s), which hopefully conveys my desire to do great work. Every interaction with every person everywhere should also reflect those commitments.

“Just Lunch”

That caller and I just had lunch together, where I was able to take a few moments to share some of the tricks I’ve learned in 8+ years of working with WordPress. This is what I use for my work every day; by some strange twist of providence, now he will be able to use it for work as well.

He still isn’t quite sure that his newborn site warrants our meeting, but I’m convinced. Having a mirrored set of values offline and online go a long way to meaningful interactions with people in either space.

Mobility

I consider it a huge privilege to own a laptop of any kind, much less one that was less than $300 and runs Show Leopard. The journey to “hackintosh” this thing has been long and frustrating, yet very rewarding. I have a great little platform for getting things done that works just exactly as I like. (Also, did I mention it was cheap?)

My father was the one who heard about the Dell 10v first, encouraging my brother and I to try and figure out how to make them work with the Mac OS. This presented a big opportunity, but also a series of limitations:

• Relatively light-weight processor
• Less than 2GB of RAM
• Small (9″) screen size

Despite these obstacles, the netbook has been my only mobile platform over the past several years. Ask me about using my bluetooth keyboard with my iPhone during a long flight, however, and I’ll say that both tools have their place. Right now my laptop is bound to 10.6.8 for all time, thanks to hardware limitations, so my lack of upgrading is certainly not a product of my own masochism.

Dichotomy

One consideration with mobile platforms is what you can get done without sacrificing mobility. This may seem like an old discussion to some; technology has certainly advanced to the point where we can perform most tasks while on the go. I think an important part of that is determining what you can do, and where, before you venture back and forth between contexts. Everything needs to get done; why would you sacrifice precious time being frustrated when you could think about that ahead of time?

One helpful constraint on my little netbook has been the need to run apps fullscreen instead of in smaller sections as I’m used to doing on my home setup. The concept of training my brain to look at one thing at a time has been…freeing.

Tips, Tricks, PortaTrust

Here are a few nitty-gritty considerations for your mobile setup:

• Define your mobile “context” as what you can do on your hardware of choice.
• Use something like Dropbox to sync your data, but only files for mobile use.
• Take notes on something that is accessible both on the go and back at HQ.

Someone who was just getting into freelancing asked me about keeping things secure while you take a bathroom break. I can’t speak for your environment, but here in my town we don’t have professional computer thieves hanging out at coffee houses. There are several ways you can deal with answering the call of the wild; minimize your setup and move quickly, ask someone to keep an eye on things for you, or pack stuff up and take it with you…every time.

I prefer the former, especially if the area isn’t that crowded. Be responsible, but place some faith in your fellow man! One thing you can do is start training yourself not to freak out by simply getting a refill. If you can make it to the drink area, replenish your beverage, and get back again, all without having everything you own run off into the shadows, chances are that you could make a run to the restroom juuuuuust fine.

Leaf On The Wind

There will always be newer, flashier, smaller, lighter, faster, and sexier mobile setups. I’m working with what I have to try and make great stuff; a little bit of foresight goes a long way, and I’m finding that being a digital nomad is very doable in this day and age. Try turning those constraints into opportunities! Set up some work that you can do only from that mobile context, then go grab a tea and don’t get a refill until you’re finished.

Perhaps your mobile rig is a pad of paper (my favorite) or the back of napkins (Orson Scott Card) in a restaurant. Whatever you use, wherever you are, just get something done. (Don’t get me started on Facebook…)

Part of the “game” here is trusting that things are going to work after you put in the time. I feel as though I could go anywhere with a trusty mobile platform at my side; that freedom is addicting! Even the simple things feel new every day, which makes me want to use that context properly and do really great work, no matter where I am.

…but that will not stop me from using those personalities in this pseudo-psychological comparison.

How do each of these personality types deal with changing circumstances around them? World events? Job struggles? Raising children? Debt? Similar to Goldilocks, we see three perspectives with three very different approaches, yet a shared destination that forces each of them to ask many of the same questions.

Meet the Cast

Three young men, living under one roof, sharing similar walks of life, finding themselves bound together by conscience, life purpose, their outlook on the world.

Hobbit

This one is consumed by a desire to create and enjoy the fruits of intentional labors. He finds incredible joy in riding horses bareback, working with his hands, and using every ounce of energy in everything he does. Unflinching devotion to moral standards are met with equal frustrations when others do not feel the same way; he is committed to right action. This character can be impulsive and impatient, but does not lack for total devotion when physical labor and service is required. He is a burning torch, muting darkness around him, waiting for his chance to shine.

Holmes

This one is a deep thinker who finds purpose in helping others and figuring things out. He is consumed by a need to assist those around him, seemingly stunting self-satisfaction in trade for the delight of watching others succeed. Devotion to proper application often limits his willingness to speak his mind; fearing condemnation by others, he often delays too long as he considers every (known) factor of a situation. His demons seem vanquished only by the causes of others, but deep perceptions await their escape at the sign of selfless action.

Hybrid

The most well-balanced of the group, this one is focused on the overall movement and directives of those around him. He leads the charge and inspires a following through his natural persuasiveness; bound by truth, hungry for knowledge, he lives to the fullest so that he can attain more understanding. This passion can wear on those who do not share his fortitude for new things, but has a history of taking action when no one else will. This character contains a philosopher ready to burst forth at any moment, an intense drive for purpose, and unfailing hope.

Outline the Plot

Set these three characters in motion and you have a very interesting range of responses to conflict, joy, loss. When you think about people you know who fit into (or near) one of these personalities, do you wonder about the way they look at the world? How do each of them determine when to act, what would they ask of others, to whom will they turn in times of need?

Our setting is a humble home in a small town, where the three characters reside with a family of seven, belonging to the Hybrid. Every day is a mixture of laughter and grief as children are raised under the loving care of parents and friends. Our cast has decided to take these journeys together, risking the approval of the world around them in exchange for a deeper purpose of holding fast to intangible standards based on Scripture.

Introduce the Problem

Now think about giving our characters something to work on.

I was watching Star Trek: Into Darkness and really enjoyed the differing approaches to conflicts surrounding the Starship USS Enterprise. It wasn’t long before my mind wandered, however, spawning the concept of Holmes/Hobbits out of the paring of Spock/Kirk on screen. Each personality was presented with the same problem and had to work out a solution that fit their character as a part of the crew.

Lone rangers fail. Individual gratification had to take a back-seat to preservation of the unit, if so required.

Back here in the real world, our cast has been wrestling with the issue set before them, working to find a safe route through the firestorm. World events are likely to drive the Hybrid to social action, while Holmes will want to understand the stakes before getting involved. The Hobbit will deal with job struggles in a head-on fashion, but likely desire something hands-on more than the Hybrid would. Holmes will see raising children as part of the big picture and enjoy it, but also make fewer short-term gratification decisions than either of the other two. None of our characters will want to take on debt, though each will deal with it differently, weighing struggles against possible opportunities.

Resolve the Tension

I have always been fascinated by the way people think and how they process information. As a young boy, I can recall times when neighborhood kids would act a specific way, making me wonder what drove them to respond like they did. The standard chiding, wrestling, or peer-driven activities never really made sense to me; I wanted to spend time with a few people where I knew what to expect and how to act.

Each character has benefits: Hobbits are fiercely loyal, Hybrids inspire great devotion, and Holmes-folks are tough to rattle when in their element. As is the case with any personality evaluation, I believe that each type has a role to play in the grand scheme of things. It would be wonderful if we had a planet full of Vulcans, a Shire full of Hobbits, or a place where Sherlocks could perform strange tests on eyeballs and tobacco variants.

We don’t have that luxury, however, which means that our cast has to learn how their skillsets can compliment one another in the heat of battle. This sort of comparison is of great interest to me…though I’m not sure why. It’s something to figure out, to unravel, to understand. For some reason, writing and helping people are just what make me tick.

I don’t get stressed out easily. For some strange reason, God has given me a strange shield against freaking out. While I feel stress just like you, dear reader, it never manifests through sports teams, political issues, or world events. The times when I feel pressure are when I could do something and simply cannot. If said limitation is self-inflicted, stress happens much sooner than later.

When you are a freelancer, there are a number of constraints that shape what you do. Your daily process is impacted by a host of inputs beyond your control. I’ve been pondering some examples of external variables that can constrain internal processing.

Hunting

As a “Gun For Hire” you are probably responsible for finding the work that you will be doing. This process of hunt/gather is daunting when you realize how many of your peers are trying to do the same thing, yet there is an excitement to it as well. Somehow, you have to figure out where your next gig is coming from. There’s a challenge involved before you even start the work itself.

Contrast this to the traditional “job” where you show up and check tasks off a to-do list. There’s a big difference there; one requires a cognitive bench-press, but both require showing up and being faithful to the overall mission at hand.

Learning

How about learning new things, picking up skills, or finding new ways of doing things? While most freelancers are likely to be self-starters, there’s something to be said for the old master/apprentice balance of learning new things. I know there have been days when I’d have killed for the chance to talk with someone older, wiser, and more practiced out here in webspace. My father has been a huge help in these moments, helping me make logical leaps even when the issues land outside his understanding (which isn’t that often).

One benefit to working directly with others – and why I believe that every freelancer must regularly network and socialize – is that you can learn how they think, not just how they work. My major confession here is that I have never had any formal web training at all; everything I know has been self-taught.

Notice that I didn’t say I have never had “structured” training, as the host of resources online and (gasp!) in physical books can provide plenty of structure for those who wish to apply themselves.

Reaping

Ah, yes, the money. You’d probably like to be paid for your work, eh? Any freelancer will have felt the pain of collecting on completed work, which (hopefully) would not be an issue in a traditional company environment. This is where stress can pile up, but you can’t let get to you, as it affects everything that you do. Keep your chin up, bill confidently, and have a contract. Always.

I never want to discourage folks like you from being self-employed. This is one of the most fascinating journeys I have ever been on, and I would not trade the lessons and scars. Having to stand on your own is part of life, part of growing up, part of figuring out how to work with other people.

Practicing

Freelancers ultimately have to rely upon their sense of when and how high to jump. Some would say, “CK you should get a real job!” It would seem that something full-time would solve a lot of these problems, that having some known factors would be helpful, right?

Even in a “real job,” however, you can’t rely on any company to solve all of your problems. We see things come and go all the time; the mindset of no-stressing-out-allowed still applies.

My parents taught me from an early age that you shouldn’t be crushed by a weight that you cannot control: “All you can do is your very best.” They would tell me that before I took a test, played in a big game, or fired a model rocket into the sky. That mindset has stuck with me and helps avoid the freak-outs that plague a lot of workers in my generation. Reliance upon the work that you do is key to surviving in the wild west of open space. Strap in and get to work!

Re: B2W

My recent “Gun For Hire” posts are heavily inspired by Back to Work, a podcast on the mighty 5by5 network. Since they have a lot more figured out than I do, this post is a response to B2W #120, where Merlin Mann once again challenged everything I know about what I’m doing right now. (All of the following quotes are from him.)

In a grossly-truncated nutshell: I am working through the challenges of being a self-employed web developer, frustrated writer, and aspiring podcaster; classic starving artist material. I have a loving family, good friends, and a heavy grounding in the Bible to keep things in line. I wrote a long, soul-bearing post last year about work, life, and otherwise. That and “Infidel” should catch you up to speed if you would like to do some additional reading.

This week, Merlin posed an interesting question:

“How much of a safety net would it take before you felt like you could do what you really wanted?”

Last year, I worked on a big web project that brought more income than several previous years combined. This was my first foray into projects of that scale, and it gave me a glimpse of what was possible with my 12+ years of web experience. It was hard work, but very worth it.

“What did you do when, for more than a month, you felt like you were situated for life?”

While I was only working a three-month project, my hourly wage was definitely how I wanted to continue in the future. The issue is that I definitely did not plan sustainably. I can honestly say that I did not squander my money, but being aware of “the Elvis problem” and paying down vs investing anew are things I now understand very well.

It wasn’t a loss, though; I got a chance to “rehearse” how that level of pay could work. In retrospect it is probably good that I only had a three-month contract. Having a “safety net” that went above basic financial needs showed what I could have if working at a competitive rate. Lessons learned.

Tangled

“Maybe you are making things that you like, but you don’t have the safety to do more of it yet…”

Establishing patterns is a hard thing to do while under fire. My previous articles speak to various struggles and considerations, but right now, today, I’m working to take the tiny steps that will inch me toward the bigger goals. Every day, I try to focus on the basics; working on a client project, writing or podcasting something, and doing some research for the future of my craft and family life.

“…after you have that, will you be doing more of what you have done well before?”

I would love to take some of the smaller things I do (writing articles, podcasting, etc.) to the next level. The “prime directive” for me right now is acquiring something more sustainable than my current pace of self-employed web development. I will be an entrepreneur until the day that I die, but when you work in a town (“professional community”) where there are zero creative meetups, the constant rush to hunt/gather client work is paralyzing other efforts, and your friends have no idea what you do…there aren’t a lot of sunny days when it comes to work.

Why work online, you might ask? Why not get a job elsewhere, something that brings you closer to more people, something that you can leave “at the office” each night?

Building Better Nets

Earlier this year, I started applying for offline jobs, collaborating with a local web company, and working to whip my home office into shape. My goal is building a future that is sustainable. While I don’t claim to know everything at 27, there are some pretty basic goals I would like to achieve:

• — Get married, raise a family.
• — Develop online publishing platforms for a living.
• — Write a lot, perhaps read audiobooks professionally.
• — Speak or teach on Christian worldviews and apologetics.
• — Podcast on work mentalities, tea drinking, d20 systems, movies…

All of those have orthogonal angles. Each of them require multi-disciplinary skillsets, which I already have or am currently developing. For me, it is less about having the cushion to do whatever I want, and more about the expectations that drive me to that point.

“What do you really want to do that would not require changing who you are?”

How do you accomplish intangible goals without the means to meet tangible standards? Dan Benjamin counsels people to QUIT! their “corporate stooge” gigs if they have the ability to do so, but what if you are in the reverse situation? I know, just go get any ol’ job, right? Tempting. I don’t have some pie-in-the-sky view of a full-time position, where all my bills are paid and I can do artsy stuff all day, but I do recognize the potential that a “safety net” can bring. That’s hard to do when you feel that your “trade” is the Way of the Future for your and your family.

Walking The Highwire

What about goals that go beyond the tangible needs, the ones that provide passion for the pursuits, patience for the pestilence? In my case, I recognize that these clouded days are part of the goal; the journey is part of the destination, especially for a storyteller.

But…

“What if you did what you wanted and made a little money from it? If you had a small safety net, could you make something cool?”

That was the straw that ruined the whole bushel of mixed metaphors. In the midst of “gut churn” there must be patterns for right behavior/action. These should cast shadows of what the future will be like. I’m a 10,000-hour kind of guy; no lotteries, rainbows, or shortcuts. I know it takes time, and I get that these harder days are part of the story, but I’m not sure how to crank out more examples of future work until I have some firm ground under my feet.

Life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness, baby.

The Plunge

I hope to keep talking to cool people, working my tail off, and looking for the next piece that might slip into place as I move forward. Actually, I not-so-secretly would like to develop more than just casual non-professional connections to some of the folks mentioned here. More on that later.

Despite all of this whining, there are a few traces of daylight; my best friend is likely going to take back his paper route, I may have additional work opportunities soon (waiting on news, again), and my father has given me a lot to think about for making things happen through his own example. God is good, in spite of the storms. Now to get creative…

Last week, I finished an article called “Infidel” that covered the last 3+ years of my freelance business. It was a raw look at the ups and downs of what I call my job, the “moderate success” of the business as a whole, and the struggle to define exactly what, if anything, I could count on for the future. That was the most forthright I have been as regards business and its effects on everyday life as a “Gun For Hire.”

Unsustainable is a word that describes the nature of my work on all fronts. Potential employers can be certain that I will not have the same load on my shoulders while working for them; I’m cutting things back like crazy right now. I have found Dan Benjamin‘s position on working a full-time job and building a side business definitely causes one (or both) to suffer, and I’m tired of that struggle. I wrote to him a while back and asked if I should “quit” my freelance business, which I’m not going to do, but it will be taking a different shape in the months ahead.

The issue here is not a lack of income, but a surplus of commitments. There are too many things pulling at this one-man-army’s attention, which means I’m letting a lot of people down. I’m really tired of letting people down.

One of the hardest things for a knowledge worker is letting go of the product or service itself and focusing on the intangibles. Yes, you are hired to create (your thing here), but what does it take to produce that result?

• — Listening to the pain-points, assessing possible solutions.
• — Understanding attempts made to solve this problem before.
• — Proposing a carefully-crafted answer for the desired outcome.
• — Following through with that work unto project completion.

Sounds simple, right? Yet I believe that the toughest part of creative work is learning to come to the table “fresh” each time. Knowing how to do something isn’t the entire answer; being able to propose a reliable solution to their issues, ensuring them of their future sustainability…that’s the ticket.

Again: I will always be involved in some form of entrepreneurial endeavors. It’s in my blood. Sometimes I wonder what it would have been like to grow up in a family where that mindset were not present, to not have decades of example successes and failures. I’m grateful for each and every moment.

Merlin Mann likes to talk about the inability to do great things if you spend your time on the stuff that doesn’t matter. Being mindful of that balance is really tough, especially when your back is against the wall, but it can be life or death in the creative trade. Not being able to work on things that matter to you isn’t just a setback, it’s running in the opposite direction from where you want to be.

And that, dear reader, is unsustainable.

This may be one of the hardest articles I have ever had to write. I’m not announcing anything profound or revealing some trade secret, nor am I exposing some dark section of my inner psyche. (You get enough of those posts already.) This is an honest look at an honest business, plus the decisions that have brought about the rise and fall of my trade over the last three years.

2010: Venture

Freelancing in Springfield, Missouri was a rough beginning to a lot of rough continuums. Earlier that year, I had been employed by a local web company that didn’t know what to do with a self-starting always-learning entrepreneurial-minded web guy like myself. That job ended when I finished all of the simple HTML/CSS projects they had and they asked me if I wanted to become a full-time ColdFusion developer.

The man who ran that company (wisely) asked me if I really wanted to be a full-time programmer at a desk, or if my self-employment bug was going to win out. I turned down the position, they phased me out, and I became unemployable…the day before I signed my first apartment lease.

That was a terrifying time. There were plenty of things that I had in my bag of tricks, but I had rent due the next day and it was time to make things happen. I took my “Gun For Hire” image as a stoic self-portrait while living in that apartment. My days consisted of listening to books, discovering podcasts, writing code, and trying to understand why nobody wanted to pay me for what I knew how to do.

Perhaps one of the biggest lessons I learned during that first year had to do with educating clients. It’s one thing to provide a solution, but when you have to spend 5-6 hours on Skype with someone as you write their code, it forces you to learn how to explain what you do in a new way. This is one of the most important skills for any knowledge worker, a skillset that is often overlooked; learn how to explain what you do.

Once you can confidently explain what you are doing, or at least communicate what VERB you will be using to reach the desired NOUN, things get a lot easier. You spend less time defending your work and more time showing it off.

2011: Withdrawl

The following year went a little better, but I made a lot of small mistakes that I’m (literally) paying for today. I tried to suspend financial burdens so I could focus on building up a client base, which basically meant that I was throwing expenses on a credit card. I got set up with family services, tried to work the system and arrange payment agreements, and generally wanted to establish myself as a good worker without making money.

Listen: It is never a good idea to lean on someone else for your daily bread while you work on something else. Your work may not bring you into the presence of kings, but deferring things for too long can dig you a deeper hole than you realize. I was (and am) blessed to have parents who helped provide perspective during that season, which ultimately ended with me realizing that I needed to charge something consistent and reasonable for my work.

It sounds silly, but I’m built to be a helper and don’t have a greedy bone in my body. I had to really work to charge a decent rate every time; in some ways I still struggle with this today. 2011 was definitely the year when I poured everything back into the business, hoping enough sparks would start a fire somewhere.

That year ended with my humble recognition that I didn’t know how to run a business on my own. I moved back to Omaha for two months so that I could work with my father. He was going to show me some business tips and help me learn to take things more seriously. I learned a lot while I was up there, and though leaving what I had started in Springfield was tough, I look back and see the wisdom in getting some perspective to breathe and grow.

2012: Investment

In the spring of 2012, I moved back to Missouri to try my hand at the freelance business once more. I had more of a defined business plan, a few small projects under my belt, and lots of ideas for how to pitch website packages to businesses. I knew the business would require a time of “buy in” which would make things tight yet again. Fortunately, I had a new apartment, some new equipment, and a new-found excitement for making stuff happen.

My father had helped me land a big project before leaving Omaha; by far the largest I have ever touched. That helped establish me here in Springfield and provide the stability I needed to re-shape some of my business practices. I wish I could say that the large paychecks gave me the boost I needed to fix the problems from the years prior, but it didn’t work out that way. I certainly did not squander any of the money, but I did mis-appropriate it for current work instead of paying off old debts. Lesson learned.

I think one of the most important things to keep in mind when freelancing is that you don’t truly know what will happen next. Though there is debate among the folks I love to listen to about what “job security” actually means, we can all agree that there is something to be said for a steady paycheck.

I really do believe that having your bookkeeping worked out before you take on a big project is just as important as the project itself. That sounds odd, but you would be amazed at the headaches that can be avoided with a dedication to that principle. Work your fields before you build your house.

2013: Infidel

I know what you’re thinking: “This is the part where he tells us that his business had been acquired by GoogTwitAppleSoft!”

No such luck. The first four months of 2013 saw the worst slump in business since I started back in 2010. Actually, since I never officially went 100% on my own before 2010, I guess I can say that this has been my worst year of business…ever!

This may be too much information, but I want to be honest; I’m running on empty over here. For the past three years, I have fought and struggled to make this small company turn a profit, with varying levels of success. The kicker is that I have been working almost completely on my own. Until late last year, when I began to email other web professionals here in town, Twitter had been the only real place I could go for business chatter. My clients were the only lasting colleagues, and to this day no one in my close spheres of friends/family have any real understanding of what I do.

Want to know a secret? I have not taken a single web class…ever. While a business class or two might have been good for me, I’ve learned much of my craft from good ol’ fashioned “view source” and I’m good at it. You won’t find many people who have the blended skillsets I possess.

But reality must come knocking at some point, and generally you have to pay for the door unless you want it in your living room. Freelancing has been a long, lonely road to this strange place where I find myself today. Not exactly a confidence-instilling track record.

Over the last two months, I began searching for other work outside of freelancing. My thought was to find something consistent to work on, earn enough to pay rent, and use the rest of my time to slowly build my business back up for another leap. So far, this has looked like me filling out job applications on public wi-fi, helping with a paper route to relieve some of the pressure, and working on every web development project I can get my hands on. Not really the best way to build a business.

Hustle

Recently, I have been spending some time with 40Digits (whom I am very thankful for) and they let me get out of the house to work around other developers for a little while each week. They’re the best. It has been critical for me to gain these interactions and meet other web folk in my little town.

Home office, remote office, paper route, part-time gig, personal/church projects…things have been crazy as of late. I’m running at full speed right now to redeem every moment of every day. I can honestly say that I have never had the clarity of purpose nor the confusion of pursuits that I do right now. Everything is all-in all the time, which is not a good way to live, but things are starting to shift. I see little glimpses of the future here and there, even if that means spending 8 hours in a remote office, 5 hours at McDonald’s, and 2-3 hours at home some days.

So why go to all this trouble? What purpose could be there be for all of this toil – why not just pack up and move to a town where I could work for someone else? There must be more to this story, right?

As I seek an answer to that question, I see two basic lines of thought: I move, live alone, and lose the connections I have made here in Springfield. Sounds dangerous, until I ponder staying put. It may mean more time spent working alone, building toward the future in the wee hours, the dry seasons, the fitful nights. Either way I see my former timetables being stretched out over multiple years…again.

Vision

“To be a successful entrepreneur, one needs a vision of one’s work. If we dream, we will be inspired beyond the straight jacket of the everyday world. There is a profound connection between art and enterprise, which allows businesses to overcome its limitations and break the rules…Connect, connect, connect with artist-friends. The sorcery and charm of sharing our view of the world make it one of the most treasured of all creative arts.”
— Bernardo Medina

It took awhile to get here, but eventually I realized the complete futility of the work of my hands. It is obvious to me that God alone could actually take my labor and produce a profitable return. I mean, He cursed the ground, so doesn’t make sense that He would could bless our efforts?

Any amount of toil produces a profit, but it doesn’t really mean anything unless we’re doing it as unto Him. All I know to do is wake up, dedicate everything I do to His leadings, and try to apply myself in the ways laid out in His word. I’m certainly thankful that I am not wholly responsible for the results, and can only pray that He will multiply the return if I keep Him at the center of everything I do.

My efforts are inadequate of their own accord, but done through Him, I see them do things that go far beyond my abilities. I really do not wish to wrestle with Him in a battle for power or preeminence in whose labor is being applied to these tasks.

I don’t know exactly what the future holds, but I do know that this road stretches on for a while. Whatever it takes to build, “A family who will stand the test of time…” is what I’m after. Along the way I hope to meet great people, build great stuff, and take tiny steps each day that point to a great future in, well, whatever I call my freelance business in the future.

Normally, I really dislike McDonald’s and the food(?) they sell. To be honest, I dislike them even more when I have a large system update to download over their network. The free wifi is really handy, however, which made me think about the expectation of freely available services in public places.

When you consider the common expectations we have in this always-on culture, I hope the question of ethical trade also enters your mind. This is the age of hand-held computing, wireless everything, and city-wide wireless internet connections. As we continue down this road, large network providers like Verizon and AT&T have had to take aggressive positions on their data plans due to the heavy usage.

Our constant connection requires a heavy fee at times; how do we feel about free services? Now that we have had to pay for things (yes, sometimes through the nose) do we actually feel more inclined to do honest business? Do we still try to steal wifi wherever we can get it, or does the concept of paying for small things make more sense than ever?

I think this whole discussion has been solidified through a simple understanding: Pay for what you use. If you use wifi in a restaurant, buy something to eat/drink. If it’s a library, donate books/time/money to their efforts. I used to see people sitting in parking lots with their laptop, clinging to the few bars of signal strength they could get without buying a coffee.

I’m a capitalist at heart, but I think that’s a bad move.

If we keep getting intangible things for free, eventually the ecosystem around that entity will show some strain. This is why digital app sales are such a brilliant idea, and why I expect that small transactions will continue to be the future of any volume-based service. (Note: Exchange doesn’t have to be directly associated with the provided service; see also the trade of attention for effort in this famous SXSW talk.)

So what does this have to do with self-employment, freelancing, or being a “Gun For Hire?” Personally, I find it fascinating because I have had to consider these things while my home office network is being repaired. There are plenty of places you can go to get wifi these days, but the signal itself seems almost secondary in importance to the environment.

I would sit just about anywhere (including McDonald’s) for a dependable connection, but the number of options will only increase with time. Making a choice to connect honorably, to trade something for the service they provide, ought to be a cultural norm in our digital age. Thanks to app stores and micropayments on social sites, we are warming to swapping small payments for valuable returns.

Perhaps today’s digital nomad has an interesting future as the expectations of trade decrease and the available services increase. I know there have been entire books written about this; these limited top-down observations are just one freelancer’s view into the digital ecosystem. I love the blending of tangible and intangible values, because it means we are finally starting to understand that “real life” includes more than your AFK experiences, but also allows the non-digital values to flow into the way we play, work, and live online. That’s worth a coffee or two.

• Appraise. I love getting a break from the daily routine because it provides a great opportunity to prune your to-do list. If you’re like Merlin Mann, this means killing 100+ “projects” in OmniFocus; we mere mortals might use this time to make a few phone calls. Every bit counts.

• Backup. Internet outages are a perfect time to back things up on one of your local drives. (Side note: If you work at a computer and DON’T have non-cloud drives dedicated to this task, shame on you.) I back up to at least two drives; daddy taught me good.

• Clean. There are still a few things left over from your latest brainstorm (or lunch) that should finally find their way to the trash. I’m OCD, but my work area is where I work, not where I use a handy-wipe on a daily basis.

When you work from home, even if only part-time, losing your internet connection really sticks. It doesn’t have to mean a loss of time, however. You can still be productive from afar, even if that looks like writing a Lifehacker-esque post over McDonald’s wifi. Have fun!

“Yes, I fully appreciate your issue. Yes, I’m working on a fix. No, I can’t do it right this second, because I have ten of you.”

That’s how many of my conversations go these days. It’s a bit like triage; you have to assess the critical nature of the need before replying to the email. Sometimes I’ll get emails, text messages, and phone calls, all in the span of a few minutes, because someone is convinced that the world is ending when a small piece of text isn’t formatting correctly.

Please understand, I’m not saying this is wholly inappropriate behavior. I understand that these sites/tools are part of the lifeline to many of my client’s businesses, and they need to be functioning properly! We workers must also understand that our clients hired us to deal with these problems so they wouldn’t have to, which is something I fail to remember at times.

There’s no substitution for care when it comes to something like this; we just need to figure out how to properly communicate that care. (Note: This may indicate that I need to work with fewer clients…more on that later.)

Working the Magic

When dealing with issues in any relationship, business or personal, the essential thing to display to the other party is a desire to see them succeed. I personally believe that this is central to the ways we tell stories, sell products, and provide services. Sometimes all at the same time. Both sides must understand at least enough about the other party to sympathize with their situation. We do business with people, not robots.

So how do we tell people that they are important, that we care about their work, and that we’re doing our very best to get them “bumped up in the queue” when things go wrong?

Here are a few things I try to communicate:

• • I am actively working on a fix to that issue (be honest – don’t tell them something unless you plan to do it).
• • I have a proposed solution for the interim, or how they can help gather more data (get them involved).
• • We signed a contract that said we would get specific functionality in place, and I keep my word.

If all else fails in our always-on culture of instant gratification and moment-by-moment over-reaction, sometimes you simply have to explain: “We will get this fixed, but please remember, I have ten of you.”

I’ve heard a lot of different theories about communication and teamwork from my fellow freelancers. Some say it’s important to work alone as much as possible, others tell you to join forces with someone else and use that connection to keep you going.

One of my favorite podcasts right now is “QUIT!” over at the mighty 5by5 network. I hear a lot of callers asking about when they should do something, how much money to have saved up, etc. Dan Benjamin has (rightly) advised all of them to have more than money and professional connections – they need a support staff.

The people you have in your life will stick with you a lot more than your money or amazing projects. I would argue that all of that rockstar/ninja/wizard/guru status you claim as a freelancer is pretty much null if you don’t have a real human there with you.

Cliché? Perhaps, but I believe it, and I don’t hear it said that often, sadly.

Here are a few people who have been influential in my life as a Gun For Hire:

• Dad, my business teacher, computer teacher, photography teacher, and he-who-holds-my-feet-to-the-fire as I try to figure this stuff out.

• Mom, my ever-present listening ear and who encourages me from several states away. I can’t place enough value on her influence, aid, or care over the last 27 years.

• Brandon, my best friend, constant sounding board, and business partner through crazy startup adventures.

• 40Digits and Departika, business acquaintances and folks whom I hope to work with in the future.

• Kyle Steed, someone whom I look up to as an example in the freelance space. Also an amazing guy to do lunch with.

• 5by5, 70Decibels, Mule Radio. These are people I haven’t met, but they help me keep putting one foot in front of the other. I’m not sure the last three years would have happened without their insight.

One of my favorite speakers once said: “This is merely one beggar’s effort to tell other beggars where he found bread.” I think that simple description is key to how we see our interactions in any space or industry, especially something like online publishing. There’s STILL this crazy idea that we need to horde our knowledge, that every bit we know is somehow putting us in a position of great advantage over the other people in our field.

This doesn’t make sense.

Over the last several months, I have really been trying to branch out and make more connections. Since I live in the middle of nowhere (related to technology, anyway) that makes getting to the hip-city conferences a bit tough. Only recently did I really start to take the space around me seriously, looking for people who “get” what I do in this local area. The journey has been a ton of fun, and I’ve been able to meet some neat folks along the way.

I’m an introvert. I don’t like big crowds, congested meeting rooms, or stadiums packed with people. Why should I want to meet, confer, and be vulnerable with a group of people that I don’t even know? Well, I’ve had to learn the hard way that unless we can learn from the people around us, we probably don’t have much business wanting to publish things for other people…at all.

Part of this mini-series I’m writing about has to do with breaking apart the lone gunman approach – the rest is me being open about why doing that for three years running has been a hard decision to live with. Next, I’ll provide a few more thoughts on how this mindset can both cripple professional growth and limit your connections between doing great work and meeting great people.

This has been a crazy week…and it’s only Wednesday.

Glorification aside, this really is a cool process. I’m moving into a new house with some friends of mine, which means no more smoking jackets and lots more space. My bills will remain about the same as they are now, the distance to everywhere increases only slightly, and having more opportunities to work on projects with my best friend/business partner will be a breath of fresh air. Getting there is the hard part; I won’t bore you with the gory details.

When considering the transition of a home office, there are a few things you have to keep in mind. Some of this I’m learning the hard way, but overall things have been clicking along rather nicely.

• Make sure you transition your internet services, home insurance, and project drives on day one. You don’t want to be stuck in a new place without connectivity, coverage, or chief capabilities.
• Keep a text file or Hipster PDA full of details related to your move. My current file has details like I listed above, but also contains questions to ask my new roommates and/or landlord.
• Don’t stop working. It’s natural to want to halt all work in the midst of the chaos. Having now moved 6 times in the last 3 years, I can honestly say that work is a good way to unwind from the chaos of moving boxes. Having a constant to fall back on is really helpful for short bursts of productivity.

Moving can be a horrid process, but I’m convinced that it doesn’t have to be. I’m only working a single day at the local agency I’m partnered with, which helps a lot, even though that means the pressure is on to migrate my home office. I’m considering a switch to a new billing system that doesn’t require sitting in front of my iMac at home (yes, I’ve been using old-fashiond spreadsheets) to ease the burden and keep things rolling. This may or may not be a good time to make the leap…I’ll let you know how that one goes later.

Today, working with a local agency, I found myself tasked with an unexpected short-run project. I was happy to help, since I have been working on small projects for myself while we spin up some larger tasks “at the office.” This brought up the question of how much time I spent on the new project for the rest of the day; here are a few things I found helpful:

• Use a system to keep track of current projects. Regardless of who you work for or what you do, it’s good to know the next step in the process.

• Balance the immediate and the enduring. Since I have a tendency to jump in and help people right away, I wanted to make sure that my priorities weren’t out of whack. This was important, but so was my other work that paid bills.

• Keep everyone in the loop. One area I have really struggled with over the years is notifying people about how things are going. Keeping an accountable communication habit is crucial for group success.

I’m really enjoying the time with the agency (40Digits) thus far. I feel like this is allowing me to ease my way into the desk environment, which is good because I have spent very little time in that setting over the last decade and change. This blog is a fun way for me to keep things moving and evaluate how I can do better; thanks for reading!

Lots of changes are coming down the tubes; what does that mean for the network as a whole?

We need to reflect on the significant impact that “losing” three shows will have on the network in 2013. This year saw the end of The Talk Show, along with the recently announced ends of Build & Analyze and Hypercritical. These are big players in the 5by5 lineup, shows that had large cult followings and very attentive listeners. Dan said it best: The end of several eras.

There’s also a lot of work going into the site redesign, plus some new shiny toys Dan and others are always working on. Have you noticed downtime or lagging downloads? Me either, as least not in a long time. That alone is a huge testament to the brains behind the buttons; the fact that you and I rarely notice how smoothly the content reaches our ears is astounding.

So what does 2013 hold for the other hosts and shows on 5by5?

• They will experience a breath of fresh air in content creation and curated insights from their industry peers.
• They will benefit from the new tools and toys in the works, making content creation simpler, faster, better.
• They will be more unified and relevant through shows like The Crossover and real-life meetups with folks like us.

Speaking of us: What do all of these changes that mean for us listeners?

I believe the future of 5by5 is really bright. It’s an exciting time! There’s promise of expansion into new areas, new features are being put into place, and we all know that new shows will be added (just so they have Merlin as a guest at some point).

Remember: The important stuff, the people behind the microphones, will need to pull together and become more unified than they are even now. 5by5 is constantly growing, spreading out into smaller niche audiences and covering larger groups of people all at the same time. Dynamic personalities come together for insightful discussion, providing a unique mixture of content that you can’t get anywhere else on the internet.

Dan once said that his ultimate vision for this broadcast network was to create a platform for great people producing great content. I see 2013 as a time for advancement toward that goal; a time for collaboration with other networks and individual broadcasters. I’m excited to watch and listen as 5by5 continues its measured pace as the leading online broadcast network for geeks/designers/developers/entrepreneurs like me.

I visualized a series of articles – carefully timed and expertly written – that tactfully built tension and drove readers to edge of their chairs. The wave of content would crash against the soft minds of my readers, numerous as the sand on the shores, and the fading crescendo would trigger a wave of applause louder than the one receding back into my vast ocean of intellect. (Right!)

tl;dr Makers, this game is all about perceptions and choices. Read this, take a couple notes, but mostly just get back to work.

Over the last few months, I made the hard decision to change the way I use this site. If you don’t work on the web, this may seem like a trifle, because you see websites as ways to consume information. You probably don’t think of them as living organisms, wondering what they might do if you push too hard or ask too much. You probably think that’s crazy talk.

I think you’re right.

From a mechanics point of view, making things on the web is no different than writing a long letter. You spread out your notes, select a few things that you like, assemble them properly, and re-assemble them into a more “polished” form. It seems so simple…because it is. There’s an extremely heady aspect to our jobs (see: “knowledge work”) that is hard to explain, but the core concepts are plain.

Seriously: We aren’t remaking the wheel or curing cancer, we’re making websites.

I think it’s important to know where you stumble in the process of making things online. My struggles generally center around layout and responsive design, even though those are things that I notice right away when I visit a site for the first time. In refreshing this site, I wanted to use adaptive mindsets, fitting the content into whichever context was required by the user. What I found, was a bigger issue with wanting to please people and make great stuff that anyone could use; I didn’t think about my target audience as any less than 7+ billion beings.

In some ways, I believe writers/coders have to be haughty enough to think that everything makes sense to them – that’s how they can tell you what they see. Those are good character qualities for someone in my field, but it makes my life a living torture chamber and labels me a masochist by most of my closest friends. Seventeen redesigns later, I’m still finding things wrong with this place.

“In order to post something, I felt it couldn’t be short or just a quip on a topic, it had to be substantial. I fell into a design trap I unknowingly set for myself. I decided to revise my thinking. I’d keep the theme of custom designs in my articles going, but set things up so that posts on any length or scope could live together in the same stream of content. What’s more, I decided to not let the design of my site become a barrier to writing here. The most important thing this site does for me is give me a creative outlet to play and write. Anything that gets in the way of that needs to get the boot.” —Jason Santa Maria

There’s something to be said for slogging through the mess, seeking clarity among the chaos. I fully believe that every great idea has been iterated several times – only Divine inspiration penned something completely brilliant on the first try – so we do need to spend time “cranking.” Unless you spend that time clarifying your mission and your audience, however, you may find yourself back where you started, your notes having been transcribed onto new less-messy pieces of paper, your thoughts now on a new set of tasks unrelated to your original goal.

See? I’m not perfect – this stuff kills me.

It’s a real shame that web trends focus on arranging content, not consuming it. Things are finally reaching a point where the content itself can shine, but the mindsets surrounding the curation and creation don’t always remain dedicated to that goal. Everyone will tell you that they have a website so they can showcase their work, but that’s exactly the problem:

“We don’t make movies to make money; we make money to make more movies.” —Walt Disney

Whether you’re writing, coding, thinking out-loud, podcasting, video blogging, singing, or otherwise, you need to think about this quote. We’re all in the same boat: We do things to get our brains in order, which is where we need to be where you spending our time, not organizing them into better rows and columns. I implore you to consider this before you spend any additional time crafting things for the web. Don’t get lost in the slosh of creative juices – pick a simple heuristic and run with it; start simple so you can add detail later.

I’m reminded of a dog my family used to have – she was extremely excited about everything. That’s how I feel about each iteration here, like I finally know what I would like to do with this site…every time. Things that are attached to our names should mean a lot to us, but they also shouldn’t take up the time we spend actually doing things.

For me, this all comes back to storytelling.

Developing sites is something that I do because I love to solve problems. Yes, it’s what pays the bills right now, but there are lots of ways to pay bills. I recently wrote an article that really expressed my frustration with living alone and working alone; to be honest, I’m really tired of both. After I wrote that, however, I felt like the only thing to do was get back to work.

When you make things for a living (hint: everyone does) you don’t always get to pick and choose your flavor of Kool-Aid to sip on a daily basis. Instead of focusing on my frustrations, I’d really like to focus on making the clackity noise. One of those leads to enlightenment, the other leads to enlightenment AND something to show for the time spent staring at the same spot on the wall.

IMHO: The key here is to stop fiddling with the fine details; live with the first draft and push it out the door.

Even though I’m trying to scale back my approach to content curation, making websites is my full-time gig right now. Every time I finish a project, I find that I actually want to make websites because I get to tell a little story. I have a lot of stories I want to tell through prose, but I don’t feel like I can publish them just yet. for now, every website I build is like a small breath of fresh air; something I can hold on to while I wrestle with the stories I want to tell. Until then, I’ll make stuff, line by line, wherever I can put the next character.

Websites should be simple tools that illustrate what we do. If we need them to tell a story because that’s part of our message, so be it. If you need a place to put a few things, I encourage you not to over-complicate the process. Make great stuff, then put it somewhere; don’t spend too much time in that middle-ground unless that’s your job, and even then know enough about what you make to check yourself for why you are here in the first place.

Part two of this post will ask some key questions about making those choices – stay tuned!

My name is Charles Kimball Hicks, IV, but you do not know me by that name. You probably know me as “CK” from somewheres or otherwise. You don’t know that my name means: “strong, manly, enduring” or how much I desperately want you to read this letter. You will soon know, however, that I am an “unemployable expert.” What’s in a name, anyway?

Note: This is not one of your standard guy-with-a-vanilla-blogging-system-emoting-online deals. It’s a serious request for help.

Frankly, if you can see this post, it’s because I chose to send you the link. This means one of three things:

• You mean a great deal to me, and I would like your input.
• I mean a great deal to you, and you would want to read this.
• We have never met, and I would respect any feedback you have.

Welcome to Fight Club.

Exposition

My name is CK, and I stick around on this crazy rock for three reasons:

• Help people.
• Tell stories.
• Glorify God (primarily through the first two actions).

Helper

For me, there is no greater feeling than helping someone solve a problem. I love to do the little things that make something easier for someone else.

How can I communicate that all I really want in the whole world is to help people?

“Help” is a generic word, but that’s because it works everywhere; perhaps it’s something simple like doing dishes, perhaps something complex like building a website. Either way, if I can apply one of my many skillsets to an area where they are having trouble, I count it as a win. If my Tauntaun freezes before the next marker, at least I was out there looking for survivors.

It’s not easy to put that on a resume, nor can I create a portfolio of the ways I work to make things easier for people on a daily basis. I’m enough of an introvert that it I don’t even want to discuss it, most of the time.

Storyteller

Hopefully, this attribute/obsession is already very clear to you: I like to talk. (Thanks for listening, Mom.) I can’t go more than a few hours without penning some kind of story idea. Sometimes those end up in blogs, other times they end up in personally-published public places so I can make room for more notes.

Really, this picture of me tell the whole story. I’ve been taking pictures and loving radio ever since. (Thanks for everything, Dad.)

Reclaimer

^ Working title for my book project. It focuses on how Christians can “reclaim” specific areas of creative arts through peaceful, calculated expressions of what God has done. Visualize old Baptist reformers meeting Stephen King and Ira Glass. (Hey, I can dream, right?)

Rising Action

I fully believe that “the 10,000 hour rule” applies to all areas of life. to be clear: I’m not sitting around, waiting for something to happen, hoping that inspiration will strike and I’ll get a check in the mail.

Every day, I wake up and spend time cranking, trying to make something stick.

Every day. Every. Day.

I don’t watch TV at all and I rarely watch movies; I like to consume pop culture with other people…about once a month. I can’t stand Facebook unless I’m actively talking with people, and I really abhor the online gaming scene. Most of my day is spent learning, building, and tweaking. That “knowledge work” is generally hidden from view, but suffice to say: we can safely rule out the wasting of time in stereotypical settings.

My skills and expertise are fairly diverse – web developer, photographer, film vfx designer, video editor, sound technician, etc. – yet I spend most of my time in the background.

I once had a boss tell me:

“You can take this programmer position if you like, but I think we both know that you’d rather manage your own hours.”

He was right. At the time, that advice really stung, because I really needed the money. I wanted to work in an area where I could clock in, work hard, and clock out. In some ways, I still long for that simplicity.

He was right to send me away – I would have been miserable. My focus wasn’t on programming, it was on building my own company where I could use WordPress to build websites. After I left that company, I started my one-man shop Creative Kinesis, which, despite the volume of work, or lack thereof, is still my primary gig two years later. I also co-founded a small company with my best friend, though that business comes and goes as we re-brand ourselves every year or so. It’s (almost) a living.

Problems in Denmark

• Web development is where I earn my dough (such as it is) and I never went to school for any of it. I published my first site to the web in Microsoft Word because I wanted to learn how to put things online. To this day, I grow in my web know-how so I can continue to publish for myself or others. Web development earns the bulk of my daily time/attention.
• Writing is…well, more important than I like to consider. It doesn’t earn dough, but I could be flat broke and feel like I was on cloud nine if I have some pen and paper. (Actually, that has happened several times…) Everything I do comes back to writing, which means that I start to twitch if I go more than a day – heck, even a few hours – without hammering out prose.
• Podcasting is the Way of the Future and very dear to me. I love to talk, my voice has a nice cadence to it, and I have photo proof of having been around radio equipment since I was born. This is one area that I’d like to mine for income very soon; my long-term goal is to have at least half of my income come from podcasting. The kicker, please don’t laugh, is that I only have a handful of episodes from pilots and false-starts over the past year and change. Dough? I’d love to make some, but I haven’t made enough stuff yet; right now podcasting stays tucked away for days when the bills are paid. (Which means I may never do it, unless I make a change; I hope you read this, Dan – I’ve been listening.)

Climax

My name means “enduring,” but that doesn’t mean I always qualify for that trait. I’m running out of steam. The web jobs aren’t enough to keep things going in the long run, and I can’t write or podcast unless I actively remove hours from my primary job, which means bills will go unpaid. Sometimes I take that hit, but I want to have a family at some point; am I supposed to hop off of the vocational wheel and take a job that pays more? Something has to give.

Still, lots of people would kill to be in my shoes.

People talk about how important it is to fail, which means I should be right on course. Grit? I’ve got lots of grit…unless I completely misunderstand what “grit” means. This is my main fear: Having a good idea of what it takes to “endure” a set of trials, but that my definition would be skewed, defective.

They say you should visualize what “success” is for you, that your goals should be definable before they become tangible:

*Success, for me, is being able to help people and tell stories. If I do those two things at my very best, I will consider any situation successful.”

I suppose that the real reason that I keep going is because there once was a time when I hoped for what I have today. I know some form of independent work is just part of my DNA – I’m just not sure what it looks like.

Living the dream, baby: I am an unemployable expert.

There are days when I’m ready to pack up shop and work for Walmart, if only because I would have some known factors in my life. Everything inside me screams: “That’s a horrible idea!” because I feel so. close. to. the. answer.

Some people only dream about these freedoms. I mean, come on, I get to wake up every day and shuffle pixels/prose until people like them enough to pay for them! Since I live alone, I have all kinds of time to think and take notes on human behavior, which is something that fascinates me to no end. I spend lots of hours listening to people I admire, I read/listen to books, I listen to sermons…all of those are instrumental in rounding out my perspective on life, the universe, and everything.

But where do I go from here? Is there sense in more of the same, hoping that something will eventually click into place? Have I blinded myself to possible options? If you know any of these answers, or even want to take a wild guess, please send me an email.

Resolution…?

My name may not have the final answer, but I feel bound to it’s core message: endure.

Right now, I’m at my wit’s end, ready to do whatever it takes to make a lasting change. I want to earn money so I can pay off some bills, I want to tell stories like this one so people can think about their own lives, I want to help people solve problems, and I want to be the best I can be to honor God.

The only things I know to be true are these:

• God is in control.
• My family loves me.
• I have no idea what I’m doing.
• I’m really, REALLY grateful that you read this. Thank you for your time.

Oh, and that every day that I wake up…I will endure. Maybe it really is all in a name.

First, let’s consider Ezekiel. Here was a man who had to face opposition when speaking colorful illustrations against the people of Judah, but also had a few comforts; he wasn’t under direct threat of death, he had a wife, etc. Some of that changed when we hit chapter 24, however. God told him that He would remove his desire for his wife (v16), that she would die (v18), and that he was not to mourn for her publicly. This was a sign to the people for when they learned of the fallen Jerusalem in latter days. Ezekiel had his desire for his wife removed, had to watch her die, then could not mourn for her in public – God was being glorified, and he kept serving.

Next, consider the case of Hosea. Chapter 1 (v2) tells us that God instructed him to take a wife of harlotry. The poor guy had to endure all kinds of struggles with her, which also included buying her back and committing to loving her after her many harlotries. He had her to fight for in the long run, but I cannot imagine the difficulties therein. But, as with Ezekiel, God was being glorified, so he kept serving.

Finally, consider the prophet Jeremiah, who was not allowed to marry at all (16:2). This man was in physical danger many times, unlike Hosea or Ezekiel. He faced constant ridicule, punishment, and derision from everyone in the land; he was an outcast whenever he spoke, making his life hard and lonely as it was. Not being able to have a wife at all is a detail that most people probably overlook in their study of this man – God was glorified, so he kept serving.

Now, let’s talk about me.

All I want in the physical sense is to have a wife to care for; someone that I can defend, give gifts to, reach out to in times of need. This reminds me of Jeremiah – but perhaps that is not in God’s plan. If I were to be given that gift, what kind of woman would God require of me to redeem? I want to have an attitude like Boaz, the redeemer, but also the patience of Jacob – minus his attitude about physical gain. What if God does bless me with a wife, but then required that I endure he death for His greater glory? There is always a chance that He would require all of these things, so there must be more in my heart than the planning of a family or specific life goals and details.

Daniel spent the greatest portion of his life serving in the captivity of an ungodly ruler. He worked as unto the Lord, doing his best work and praying daily for rescue. Job suffered the loss of everything he had, save his final strength that God gave him to endure the punishment. Habakkuk had to wait patiently while God worked in ways beyond his sight, though he had asked for an explanation in direct conversation with Him. These are only a few examples from our reading plan so far this year; what other patterns will I find in the NT?

My main question – primarily directed to myself – is what my focus is currently, and what it should be long-term, here on this earth. I want to glorify God in whatever ways I can; does that equate to the endurance these men had before God? I love to ponder what my name means (strong, manly, enduring) but clearly the only way anyone can make it through the suffering detailed in Scripture is by relying on strength that is not his own. I do not have the fortitude to go through another 60 – 80 years of working alone, living alone, praying alone; God must be my refuge and strength. I barely have enough to get through a day or two, at times.

Quick note regarding marriage: God removed the burden of my long-lasting dating relationship a year or so ago. I no longer feel the weight of that, though reading Jeremiah brought back to feelings of loss from that experience; to have been pursuing marriage, and then having to call it off, doesn’t feel great for a single guy. While that was because of my own lack and laziness as a man of God, I understand a little bit of what Jeremiah went through, I think.

But what should I say? The Bible is full of people who endure great struggles on behalf of what God has told them to do. My issue, I believe, is that I’m not certain what God has told me to do. I feel a call to help people, however possible, and I have more desire to openly publish anything I can tie back to God every day. So far, that means writing, podcasting, matte painting, photography, speaking, and who knows what else. I would not consider any new task – caring for a family, for example – to invalidate any of those burdens, but that’s all I can see right now.

I’d like to have a few simple goals every day:

• Read, pray, and study His word.
• Create something pointing to Him.
• Help people, however I am able.

Regardless of what God has in store for my life, those need to be constants. At the beginning of the year, I spoke with my blood parents (followed by my “adopted” parents) about finally wanting to push for something that I could see off in the distance. My desires to publish in various ways and mediums was born from that desire; it’s what keeps me going every day. I had to ask, though, what would happen if God took that away? What would I live for, if I could not serve Him in the ways I detailed above? Do I have the faith to keep loving Him and living for Him, even with no way to publicly express it? Would something extreme like a bed-ridden existence be enough to point people back to Him? Do I know enough about Him and His Word to honor and glorify Him without material methods?

If all was lost, what would be found as a treasure? Do I love God enough to exist with nothing to do but sit quietly before Him?

All of that is colorful and interesting, but I’m certainly not hoping or praying that I have to endure any of it! This isn’t a suicide note, I am not deeply depressed, there are no sharp objects nearby. I write this for the same reason I write anything: I draw a line in the sand so I know where I was standing, then take a few steps and look back to prayerfully consider where I should go from there. My enduring hope is that God will grant me the opportunity to redeem one of His daughters; that I would be able to glorify Him through that relationship and the exposition of His truths through the methods I listed above. I can only hope and pray for His aid in whichever context He choses to place me here on this earth. God will be glorified – I will keep serving.

Not only was he a glowing intellectual, he was a very bright marketer. Some say he was a better project manager than inventor. He helped shape his reputation through clever placement of his workshop, the way he talked to people around him, and how he announced upcoming projects.

Thomas Edison knew how to publish. For the time being, I’m going to call this mentality: “The Edison Principle.”

This really intrigues me, because I have some cool stuff that I want to announce; also because I think we have imitated this really smart guy to an unhealthy extreme. I think we’ve taken his mentality for inviting public pressure a bit far. We’ve blurred the line between professional presentation and possessive perfectionism.

“Edison not only wrote his own press releases, but frequently held press conferences. He would announce a dramatic and innovative breakthrough long before the invention was ready for prime time.” —37 Signals

In our over-interwoven society, we place a lot of importance on how other people perceive what we do. We’re not comfortable without some kind of input from outside sources. For most of us, perhaps this looks like wading through the Wireless Void as we publish our every moment onto the internet. I’ve certainly been guilty of an addiction to feedback, trying to glean the satisfaction from minor musings that only finished products should bring. A little editing goes a long way, which I’m still learning to put into practice.

I know comparing our times to those of Edison wouldn’t be fair. There have been too many cultural changes since then, we don’t communicate like we used to, there are more distractions, etc. While all of these are true, I’d like to make the case that we haven’t changed all that much as people, just consumers of people. We look at one another like walking billboards, inferring social status and judging states of mind based on the outward shell. We’ve always done this, but now we can tell people who we really are by exposing every moment of our lives online. Does that really bring you satisfaction?

Publishing…Maybe

I struggle with what to publish all the time. Do I post every idea, hoping that someone will put the pieces together? Do I only announce finished works, trusting that people will know I’m still alive and making stuff? Do I announce big project breakthroughs, like Edison did?

Can you hear that? It’s crazy talking.

Every question I just asked had to do with what other people would think about my work. It didn’t evaluate where I was going or what I was making, it just assumed there was meaning involved at some point. I don’t always do the most meaningful things.

Just because I’m working on something, doesn’t mean that it’s where I should be spending my time. It also doesn’t mean that anyone has to hear about it.

“That’s the Internet’s reverse placebo effect: you feel as though you were missing something important before you signed up for the latest service. It’s a drug for an ailment you never had.” —David Pell

Compare this mentality to the following:

“I find out what the world needs. Then I go ahead and try to invent it.” –Thomas Edison

That has nothing to do with feedback, at least not initially. The reason Edison told people what he was already doing was to get them excited about it. He didn’t invent things because they told him that they were waiting for more. He invented because it was what he did; then he went and told people so they would pay attention. It was his way to get through the long part of inventing, to reach the crescendo where he unveiled his creation. It had to be polished and complete – everyone was expecting greatness.

We live in an age where technology is thinning our skins. We’re terrified to show anyone what we really care about, while we post every passing thought and expect people to care. We’ve attached personal connections to the small things that should have remained impersonal. (Merlin Mann addressed this on a Back to Work episode.) It’s why we feel terrible about pruning our Facebook friends, not about giving weight to how they emote online.

Does that mean we should just charge forward and not listen to anyone? Should we sit back and never talk about what we do? I guess the answer to that depends on your industry, but I’m going to say “no” as a general rule.

In a society where we share every detail of our lives, we often hide the real reason behind what we do; we trade the meaningful purpose of our work for flimsy substitutes.

Why do you do what you do?

Do you work because you want to improve the area around you, to help people, or are you trying to grow up and reach a mark that someone else drew on the wall? What drives you from concept to completion?

I sure hope it’s not telling a bunch of people, acting like you need approval for each step in your process; I’m trying very hard to get away from that mentality. It’s rough. But if we were honest with ourselves, we really don’t have time to consume one another’s every waking moment. I don’t know about you, but I’d rather not have spent a life learning about what everyone else ate for breakfast. That doesn’t scale well. Narrowing your inputs can be a really healthy process.

In former days, people’s word meant more than it does now. When someone like Edison spoke, people listened, even if only because he had made great stuff in the past. I’m ashamed to admit that there are tons of things I haven’t done for people, even after telling them I was working on it. I was working, but not with the mindset Edison was. I focused on staying busy with moderate tasks instead of portioning time for great ones. Why didn’t the pressure of talking to people make me want to do a great job? Was it because I didn’t care what they thought? No, of course not, but apparently I cared more about other things, or I would have finished strong. Or at least a little more honestly.

…which tells me that I have no business announcing things unless I’m sure I can deliver.

ANNOUNCEMENT

There will be no dramatic innovative breakthrough announcement today. (Unless you want to hear a few audio ramblings, which are fun.)

This is where I usually lose focus: I can’t make great things by publishing everything. There has to be junk, first drafts, off-the-wall prose; some stuff just isn’t going to work out. That’s not what you publish, however. You publish the stuff you really care about. The stuff you want feedback on from someone other than your parents or spouse. The stuff you don’t mind seeing destroyed by public opinion. The stuff that has matured into a strong piece that stands alone, without your help.

I petition you, dear reader, to not feel like you need to publish everything that you make. Some of the greatest minds are better known for their unpublished work; we find out how great they were based on how they handled themselves when nobody was watching. If they had published every single thing they made, we would have written them off as unpolished or unprofessional. That first quote says Edison announced, “dramatic and innovative breakthroughs” not every thought or idea. There may be something there.

Six Emails

I recently sent some emails to some people who are really important to me. I’m finally getting to share details on projects that I’ve been working on for a long time. That’s exciting – even worthy of a really long article about work.

Regardless of what they think or say, however, I need to keep working.

I love compliments, encouragements, helpful proddings. They really make a big difference in my stamina. But I can’t run on these fumes, because there’s a lot of unknown work to be done. That means the work has to be a big part of the reward; the pressure to make something meaningful has to be a big part of that process. Each next step must be taken from the previous one…which requires walking, not talking.

How about this website? I need improve it, but it’s moving forward. I’ve re-designed this thing (literally) over a dozen times. Most of those never passed by the public eye, thankfully. If I had shown everyone each step in the process, it wouldn’t have made sense to anyone. Since I can’t live off of the praise I get from this site (return: null), I need to take responsibility for what I publish.

That said, I’m happy to move forward, even slowly. If someone decides to never re-read something I wrote just because they don’t like my theme, that’s okay with me. I’m working on it. I’d rather finish one thing than never show anyone what I do; I just can’t hold a press conference every time I change one line of code, no matter how much I’d like to. I’m still “Building Baker Street.”

If you’ve proclaimed more than you’ve published, I urge you to stop tweeting and get back to typing before you ruin your reputation with empty promises.

Maybe you’re great at this, maybe you never struggle with telling anyone anything and you have a handle on what cognitive currency you pay for each iteration. I’m going to guess that you don’t always have this one down, though. Even our hero Edison waited for news-worthy updates before going public.

Just a Suggestion

Demo your work exactly until you feel confident that you could live with it, as-is. Then, get back to work.

If you improve it, great! If they reject it, that’s okay too. If that moment never arrives, perhaps you’re too cautious about what you tell people, which probably means you’re telling them other stuff that doesn’t matter.

When that moment comes, try composing an email to your best friends, telling them what you’re working on. They’ll be happy to hear it, and you’ll have to live with what you told them. Just understand that if you don’t finish what you started, they may not listen next time. That goes for tweets and status updates too.

Make lots of stuff, edit it often, then make more and don’t tell anyone if you want. The universe will still move forward and you’ll keep improving. Don’t deify Edison’s principle of telling people what’s going on; just create more than you chatter, and be great at it.

“I have more respect for the fellow with a single idea who gets there, than for the fellow with a thousand ideas who does nothing.” –Thomas Edison

Make whatever it is that you make with everything that you have – make it count.

By most people’s standards, I probably don’t have a lot of crazy adventures. That said, this last week I was up in Omaha, NE to launch a big project I’ve been working on for the last four months. It was nerve-wracking time, even though (by God’s grace) most of it went incredibly well.

As I was driving home yesterday, I thought really hard about what I’d be doing in a week or two. I have a few small projects here and there, but overall I don’t know exactly what the bulk of my working hours will be spent on.

“Hi, I’m CK, and this is my life.”

These unknown details, among several other key issues, have really been weighing me down for the last few days…weeks…months…years. I feel as though I need to answer these questions soon, but I also know that it doesn’t take a grand adventure to make things amazing along the journey. Even the little things can be meaningful and instructive:

This was my drive back from Omaha. Basically a wall of water for miles and miles. I was reminded of the many storms in the Bible, when God commanded the wind and waves just like He is now…even in my work life.

It’s hard to see what’s out there when you’re pushing through the mess, and I’m not sure what’s right in front of me, but I do know that I’m not going at it alone. And that is an encouraging thought.

Every breath is a gift; much less a big work project. God is good and His providence is beyond what I deserve! I’m grateful for every project – even the stressful ones – but I’m also very thankful for the day He set aside for us to rest from our regular labors. To me, that means also resting from thinking about those labors, which I greatly appreciate this week.

Whatever storm is looming over the next hill, I know that at least tomorrow will be safe. I don’t ever want to take that day for granted; He made it so I could pause and focus on Him, spending extra time to make sure my sight isn’t clouded by the storms around me. That slight break, the breath of fresh air, will no doubt re-kindle my energy and focus, just like it always does. Just like He promised it would.

Then, when my vision clears, not having focused on the work to come, but on Him? Then I’ll be ready for that work…whatever it looks like.

It was a dark and stormy night. The clock struck twelve, pulling the man from his narcoleptic trance in front of his keyboard. He was one tired dude.

Already worn out from a long day, he glanced around his desk, knowing it was time to get the last-

…he spotted an important bill that was due in less than an hour.

He didn’t want the bill to be late, so the money would need to be delivered that night. Since he hadn’t been a role model for adequate physical exertion that week, he decided that he would ride his bike. It was only a few miles, and he wasn’t that tired, yet. (Hustle ≠ Masochism.)

It began to rain. By the time he reached the half-way mark, the storm was strong enough to make seeing the road difficult. He kept wondering if he should turn back, but couldn’t do it. There was something more important going on than delivering a bill or staying home, warm and dry.

This bike ride was every hard thing he hadn’t done that week, it was every person he desperately wanted to talk with, it was every article he hadn’t written for fear of rejection. He looked at the pouring rain and began to laugh like a fool; the ride was tough, but it couldn’t eat him. None of those things could. Even a simple victory would do on this dark and stormy night.

Push.

Pedal hard. Put one foot in front of another, because each one takes you further than you were before. You’re going to make mistakes either way; don’t let them stop you from doing something. Send the email, ask someone something hard, write the article.

Frankly, it doesn’t matter why you want to do something; the clock doesn’t care about our abounding selfless motives, and every minute costs the same. I heard a really smart fellow say:

“You want to do more photography? Pick up the camera and take a picture of your desk. Just make something. Why aren’t you doing that right now?”

Start by spending some focused time there. Do it every day, starting today. Try disregarding all “entertainment” for a few weeks, unless it somehow bring you closer to your family. Sounds radical, but are you wanting a shoddy half-effort to be the result of your dreams? Just keep slacking off and doing the hard stuff later, because that will get you there in a hurry.

How many ways can I phrase this? When you’re really tired, do one more hard thing. When you have extra energy, take two extra steps. Eat a big ol’ frog before you do the easy stuff. Work hard and don’t settle for pushing out anything less than 100% of your effort. Leave it all on the floor. Hustle.

Don’t blame it on the rain, it doesn’t know any better. The rain can’t eat you or make you stop moving forward.

Push.

tl;dr Goldilocks, Ecclesiastes, and Zappos. Being stuck in the middle isn’t a great place to be, even though we really love that place in our culture. Do we know how to progress steadily, or will the constant din of shoe-swapping, bed-hopping, and taste-testing wear us out?

I can’t recall getting into this story when I was younger. Perhaps I was unsure of the overall premise and message; not to mention being generally confused by the strange psychological undertones therein. It just doesn’t line up unless you trust Goldilocks to become a housekeeper of her own later in life.

…which is exactly what I have in mind.

Frankly, I find this story to be a bit baffling. Why do we care that she’s found her way in moderation? Why do we see her intruding into someone’s home? Why use bears, anyhow? I’m not convinced that we need all of these answers to find purpose in the story, but someone has some explaining to do.

The mystifying part of the fairy tale (a view I share with several others) has to do with the emphasis on “trying out” different things until you find something that you like. Without dipping into the very gloomy well of hyper-consumerism, there isn’t much in the way of application in the actions of our golden-haired girl.

…except the very essence of how we make decisions.

Being stuck in the middle can make it rough on the people around you. Beyond that, your heavy diet of moderation makes it tough to live with the extremes you WILL encounter. The ones you’ll have to live with, in your home, with your porridge.

I don’t think any of us would argue whether or not we need to try things out. It’s essential that we attempt new things, that the cost of making mistakes would rarely be understood as dire or ultimate. We need to get out and explore, practice bending our minds around various problems, working toward solutions. (Note: As a Christian, I believe a lot of that work has been done for us through the many illustrations of Scripture. I’ll address that another time.)

Our culture is currently faced with a two-headed epidemic: we’re trying to grow up either too fast or too slow. We want adults to be free and act like kids until they’re at least 30, while steadily pushing the expected age of social and physical maturity toward the younger generations. We load up our youngsters with stressful pressures of adulthood, then revert to being more care-free later in life. This ultimately results in “illustrated irresponsibility.” I’m not saying kids should play all day, because I believe they ought to learn how to work at a young age; I just don’t like seeing the cover of Seventeen boast reviews of 320 swimsuits for “Looking sexy in a bikini!”

Seventeen. Did I miss something?

Moderation won’t solve this problem, as it generally locks us into a cycle of repeated problem-solving methods ending in frustration. We need to find solace and purpose in the stage of life we’re in right now, without turning to try-until-you-like-then-return-it-if-you-change-your-mind. We need to learn how to make educated mistakes, and how to live with them.

Zappos

I love Zappos. Brilliant execution of core company values that sustain over time. Their shipping policy worries me, however. (I know, I know, just bear with me.)

With the service that Zappos provides us, we learn that it’s okay, even preferable, to keep trying things until we find a perfect fit for our needs. Why does this matter? One example is that in an age where everyone wants to believe they can have a dream job, there still is a lot of gritty manual labor that needs to be done. That manual labor may look like you working at McDonalds until you can start your own business, or, like me, it may mean struggling through failed attempts and running out of money several times.

You simply can’t substitute hard work and experience over time. That doesn’t mean trying new things on over and over, nor does it point to trying different porridge until something tastes right. Sometimes you have to search for a long time before you find something that works, but you have to be willing to work in order to get there. Maybe we need less choices.

What we don’t learn from Zappos or Goldilocks?

• How to make mistakes and live with them.
• How to work hard, or deal with no food on the table.
• How to focus on the problem instead of “asking better questions.”

Extremes will be there each step of the way; everything happens in due season. Everyone, myself included, spends time looking to exchange their problems for those of someone else. That doesn’t make ends meet, it doesn’t teach good problem solving, and it certainly won’t make the problems you have NOW any easier to deal with. Working hard and picking a direction is a life-long skill. It’s something we have to re-learn every day.

Making it Personal

Right now, I’m spending a lot of time “Cranking.” This means that I’m spending a lot of time working on small projects, trying to establish a route to the future through lots of hard, repetitive work. Before the beginning of the year, I thought I had been well on my way to accomplishing this task for a long time. Upon closer inspection…I found that I was just turning a wheel. There had to be preparation and time to figure out what was coming next, but it also needed purpose. That meant doing stuff for a reason, not just feeling as though I should keep a dozen balls in the air because it made me feel grown up. I had a lot going on; that made me big and tall, right?

…right?

As we grow older, our priorities change. I would certainly hope that our responsibilities changed with those new priorities. There’s something neat about forward motion, about having a course set; that desire for change might kick in, but simple hard work for a known goal goes a long way. That endures longer than getting the best porridge, and it’s way more comfortable than your perfect pair of shoes. The best stories are things that have already happened – you just have to figure out how to tell them to everyone.

Story Time

Let me tell you a different version of Goldilocks. This is a bit more believable than our bumbling-blonde-bear-burglarizing-beauty.

Once, there was a girl. She was making her way through the channels of life, attempting to grow and learn wherever possible. She was dedicated, driven, and often discouraged by Ecclesiastes (until the last two verses).

She had to start foraging at a young age, growing up juuuuuust enough to help take care of younger ones around her. This looked like going out and doing work that should have been years in the making. This meant being relied upon in ways that weren’t meant for young girls. There were some days when it helped fulfill that God-given desire to have a family of her own, but it mostly just made her feel empty inside.

But hey, this is a heroine, right? If this were a movie, our protagonist would be seen climbing hills, scraping her hands, trying to be diligent and confident, even when she feels like breaking down. She didn’t go off in search of the perfect porridge; she kept learning, earning, and caring for her family. She kept side projects “in the works” that delivered temporary satisfaction for her desire to be…more. It wasn’t time to be more, though. It was time to do some cranking.

This is the part where our heroine learns to pick between two things and stick with one of them. She knows what is at stake, so she tries to get a few steps further each day. She’s pushing on toward a goal, hoping that it means she’s on her way to be the best she was created to be. We don’t know if she finds love or saves the day, because it’s not time for that yet. It’s time to work.

Not knowing an ending usually gets cut from the movie.

That girl didn’t get to try a bunch of bowls before she began to eat. She didn’t get to sit in different chairs or sleep in different beds, testing for softness. She didn’t get to see which shoes she liked best. “Moderation” looked like the work/life balance of doing lots of work, and thus experiencing much of life. There couldn’t be a smaller portion, because it wouldn’t put food on the table. There couldn’t be a larger portion, because it wouldn’t have been within reach.

Our heroine learned how to take care of people, but it could never do the full job, because it came too soon, without training. She grew up too fast. This is the other end of moderation: hard work and experience can come at a higher price than we understand at the time.

The Back Cover

When you find yourself stuck in one way of thinking, trying to pick which route to take, working on making a decision that might hopefully get you pointed in the possible right direction of something that may plausibly help…

…it’s time to stop trying on new shoes.

Don’t wait for the perfect setting, because it won’t come. The shoe never fits perfectly; that’s why we spend time learning and growing at a steady pace. You need those extremes to help you find out what really matters, but you also need people around you to help you learn. You need to make some hard choices and live with them, but also know that there are probably much worse things to be scared of in life.

I’m guessing that the peril of those bears coming home meant a lot more to Goldilocks than the temperature of the porridge. Perspective comes with experience.

Maybe it’s time to do more with the shoes you have, then look around and see what you can trade. There may be leftovers to spare, and even others to share them with, if you’re okay with not getting juuuuuust the right amount. Are you learning lessons through your mistakes, or does your constant din of shoe-swapping, bed-hopping, and taste-testing make it all worth it? What are you left with when the bears come home?

Christians: We’re told to progress steadily in our Sanctification (2 Thess. 1:3-4), mature in the way we handle the building blocks of our faith (Heb. 6:1-2), not have our youth despised – be an example (1 Tim. 4:12), reach for new understandings (Phil. 3:12), have faith like children (Mark 10:15), and learn from our elders (Prov. 4:1). Please, stop looking for the perfect mixture of ingredients for your “food” and consume the Word.

I hope you will know success if you taste it; I also hope you’re willing to wear those old shoes juuuuuust a bit longer. You’ll get a new pair when you’ve had time to grow out of those old ones.

“My mind rebels at stagnation. No, I am not tired; I have a curious constitution. I never remember feeling tired by work, though idleness exhausts me completely.” –Sherlock Holmes

There’s definitely some inherit haughtiness in associating with a figure like that, but I’m wildly fascinated with the way he is portrayed between solving cases. I don’t pretend to compare my mind to his, but like Sherlock Holmes, I love to solve problems. It will work for now.

tl;dr – What pieces of what you’d like to do can you be doing today? If there aren’t any, you might need to re-configure your expectations of the future. Can you cut out something silly to get 10x more of something important?

Over the past several weeks, I’ve been really frustrated with the lack of obvious areas to apply my skills in web-related tasks.

Like Sherlock Holmes, there are days when I sit around and try not to go crazy. I think of all the possible cases where I might apply what I know, wondering when they will walk through my door. There have been days where I lay on the floor, wondering why I don’t have an inbox full of requests to make great stuff for people. I have all of this know-how, right? Why don’t people see that and come calling?

Unlike Sherlock Holmes, I love to solve problems because I genuinely love to help people. It makes my day to do something simple for people; you can imagine what it’s like for me to build a website or multimedia presentation that helps people get stuff done.

I hope the incredible haughtiness of all this has sunk in by now.

Building Baker Street

One of the first dichotomies I found when comparing out-of-work-detective-dilemmas was the issue of Baker Street. Sherlock had a front door, a place of residence, somewhere people knew to find him if needed. I sat down to draft this article and realized that my own friends really don’t know what I do or where to find it! This seems to be issue #1 with my comparison; before you can become recognized, you need to have a front door for people to walk through. You need to build Baker Street.

This also means that you can’t wait around for cases, because you have to do the work of building that door first. If you sit around in an empty lot, wondering why people don’t ask you to find their heavily-radiated bunny rabbit, you’ve got problems. On the internet, building a place of residence looks a lot like publishing content on a website. If you want people to know you, show them what you do.

I tend to build things on paper when I’m not actively working on something for a client. That may mean drafting out a business plan, or just doodling more revisions for my website. (Ugh.) Either way, the time you spend in waiting makes you prepared (or not so prepared) for the times of trial. What you do all the time defines who you are; there’s no magic button where you get from novice to master detective. Just do the work.

Daily Routine

Right now, I’m sitting at my desk, typing away on the keyboard that I use for every single thing I make. Regardless of the problem I need to solve, the words I want to expel, or the people I need to talk with, most of it happens right here; why do I have such a hard time working toward “big” goals when I’m here all day long?

I don’t want to diminish the importance of daily routines and responsibilities. Sometimes a “big” goal needs to be re-framed in language that fits the true needs of a situation.

I recently spoke with a close friend who has been having some difficulties in early stages of pregnancy. Being an active person, it was tough for her to be spending most of her days in bed.

She was depressed:

“I wish I could get up and do things!”

I replied:

“Well, someone has to keep that baby safe!”

We need to look at the most important thing we can do, even if it is very small, and make that our “big” goal.

I don’t have the responsibilities of keeping any children safe, but I do have a mandate to provide for a household…even if that just means me right now. That needs to count as a “big” goal.

Ship It

I always want to do great work; my parents taught me to do my best every time, no matter who was watching or measuring the results. That charge has stuck with me over the years, driving me to hope for better opportunities in my work environments as I put forth more effort. There are times when I don’t do anything because I’m hoping for the best possible situation – such as the times when I lie on the floor – but I don’t want to see that pattern continue.

My goal for the next month is to enter “fail fast mode” with everything I create. I make stuff all the time, so why not put some of it online and see what sticks? I have unpublished podcasts, journals, narrations, businesses, photography…and that’s just the stuff I can see from sitting at my desk.

I make things all the time. Publishing lots of stuff sounds like a great plan right now.

Fast Forward

Sadly, we say goodbye to Sherlock at this point; I’m finding that we really only have a few things in common. Our brains won’t stop working on problems, we spend lots of time alone, we abhor intellectual stultification. I have to solve problems as a way of life, but when I go from making stuff go to sorting stacks of notes, something needs to give. There are lots of things I’d like to solve, but perhaps the every day issue of “what great thing can I make today?” should be the first? I don’t have a well-known doorway for people to pass through (yet) and I’m pretty sure that won’t happen until I ship a ton of things, like them or not.

Finding your way versus moving when you find momentum are two very different things. When you make mistakes (note: “when”) you can learn from those and iterate in new directions; it’s hard to iterate when standing still.

Let’s jump forward 6 months – what would I like to see this site become?

• — My “Baker Street” doorway; home for a constant drip of articles, both short comments on culture and longer deep-thought pieces like this one.
• — A showcase for stuff I’ve built, people I’ve worked with, or projects I/we have completed. (Podcasts, websites, photography, etc.)
• — The professional launchpad for what I currently call “hobbies” and side projects. I want to add value, not noise, which will take time to build properly.

How do I get there? That’s a question I have no idea how to answer. But hey, I love to solve problems. Just like Sherlock Holmes.

Qualifications

If you’re curious, here are a few of my “skills” that I mentioned earlier. Always room for improvement, but I have had some great opportunities that leave no excuse for not working hard and making great stuff every day.

20+ years of writing (seriously, my mom saved the school papers)

20+ years of photography (I was so cute)

10+ years of media production experience (college degree – primarily film editing/effects)

10+ years of web development (my first WYSIWYG site was in MS Word – ha!)

8+ years of WordPress experience (my pride and joy when “solving problems” online)

But hey, I got a little cleaning done – I haven’t done a lot since this deadline was looming – so that was a good thing, right? It was a nice diversion; I almost went outside or read one of the many books piling up on my table. I have a lot of reading to do. I’m also posting this from my tethered iPhone, which I hope doesn’t push me over my data limit for the month. I know, I know: #firstworldproblems

There’s a struggle-saturated stigma that surrounds creative work, and I’m not sure why; perhaps we spend too much time talking about how creative work is hard. Every job is hard.

So there I was, sitting on the floor, reaching for one of those books, my keys, or my vacuum (I hadn’t decided) when I remembered my keyboard.

You remember my keyboard. I use it every day to code websites, check email, write notes down for writing projects I haven’t started, etc. That one. It’s a good little keyboard (Apple, wired, full-size) and serves me well, all things considered. (@NPR) As per my routine, I haven’t used that keyboard for writing in a while, just working and talking to people. Yes, it’s all writing, but I’m talking about the kind of stuff that you’re reading now. The kind of stuff that I’m not sure I should be posting on my website, because I only like to publish Really Super Amazing Great Stuff. (Also, did I mention I was tethered?)

I haven’t published much RSAGS as of late, because I’ve neglected the time of day when I should be making the clackity noise.

I write all day long, in a variety of contexts. I have notebooks of various sizes spread throughout my apartment, one tucked away in my car, at least two in my backpack, and a small one that I carry around for emergencies. (Read: Every time I’m out of the house.) These notebooks have a variety of information in them, from Bible commentaries to would-be future RSAGS if I would ever sit down and make the clackity noise. I’ve written about my notebook(s) in the past, because they really do play a big part in my daily life. Apparently I used to love sub-categories as well, which didn’t help with the writing one bit.

I’m glad I didn’t, though, because I wouldn’t have had this opportunity to write. I’ve been trying to make the clackity noise every night for the last week, which hasn’t ended well. I keep pushing it off to read a book or do this sleep thing that some of my fellow humans like to do.

Translated: I’ve been pushing it off for reasons that will always be there.

I’ve learned that my job is to just sit down and start making the clackity noise. If I make the clackity noise long enough every day, the “writing” seems to take care of itself. On the other hand, if there’s no clackity noise, no writing. No little stories. The stories may be in there, alongside who knows what else, but there’s no way to know. You must make the noise.

…

Maybe just try it. You don’t even have to show anyone. Make the clackity noise until a little story falls out. Just a little bit and just for a little while. Just until you notice one tiny, dumb, pointless story that the keyboard wanted you to remember.
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There are days when I wonder why I feel like there needs to be a big reason to do something. It would seem that I’m always searching for a deep, meaningful, etherial purpose to just sit down and make stuff. The reason you make things is because you have to, not because you have some great reason. That’s not always enough, though. Sometimes you have to decide that the need to purge your brain onto paper supersedes stuff like snoozing or snacking. There will always be great reasons not to do something, but if the desire to do something persists, you might want to pay some attention before it consumes you.

None of this feels useful, but I’m going to go ahead and post it anyway. At this point I’m monologuing internally about why I need to write more, which serves my need to do both when I can’t work on a stressful client deadline. Writing helps; it takes away the itch, the ache. I’m not sure why it does, nor do I care. I still need to get the client work done and I’d like to have some cell data left for the rest of the billing cycle. What kills me about all of this is knowing that I may switch this post to “Draft” after a week. There may not be an archive of this one, because I’ll feel like it’s too horrible to leave exposed.

The internet affords us a great opportunity: we can remove the pieces of ourselves that we don’t like. When the service goes down, however, I stop to wonder which of those pieces should remain. Which ones should I leave exposed, assuming I could never come back and look at them again? Would I ever release anything if I knew there was no editing allowed? What if everything you said could never be taken back, what if every post was embedded in someone’s mind because they listened when you spoke?

Would that really be so horrible? Kinda sounds like life offline, actually. I hope that the fear of people seeing my work (before I have a chance to take it down) doesn’t stop me from making the clackity noise anytime soon. I don’t intend to write like this very often, but I’d like to keep this one just the same. It’s proof that my fingers still know their way around the keyboard (you remember, my Apple unit) even if those keys somehow magically change places every time I sit down to write instead of code, email, etc. Even though I believe polish is one of the most important things in creative work, it’s also really tough to keep moving your hands if you have to stay in the lines every time.

Dropbox is telling me that my internet is still off, so I’m going to grab my vacuum and go outside. (Just checking to see if you’re awake.) Thanks for reading – I’d like to work on this whole polish thing. For now, today, I made the clackity noise.

Over the last several years, I have re-designed this site about a dozen times. (You laugh – I have screenshots to prove it.) There are several pages I have yet to add, but this marks the beginning of a fresh start for the site. If you see anything out of place, please let me know so I can get it fixed.

This is a slight departure from the design I was working with before…well, okay, it’s a huge change. I wanted to build something that reduced the clutter and showy properties (such as they were) so you could engage with the content directly. There are lots of reasons for this, which I’ll be explaining throughout the next few articles. I’d like to explore the idea behind this change, what drove me to this point, plus a bit about content strategy and the way our brains work. I love that stuff.

Thanks for reading; stay tuned!

My comparison to Twilight really was just from the romance standpoint; I get tired of the rat poison. While I do agree that Collins was much more altruistic with her use of that element, I still feel as though it was inserted to hook the mid-teen crowd to whom it was written. A quick plot analysis from the Wiki page tells me all I need to know about the ensuing struggle for yet another girl to pick between two amazing guys. It just gets old. I’ll chalk that up to personal taste and let it lie.

Some say this story “…is still accessible to readers who haven’t learned how to read Clark, Dick, Asimov, Card, or Sagan.” This is actually part of my biggest frustration with this book and many others in its genre; I feel as though it was written down to match an exploding reading demographic. (I love that they’re reading…but at what cost?)

I have to say that I wasn’t surprised to see the lack of world building depth, but only because the first few pages told me what to expect. I completely agree on everything you said here (I’ll also take your word for the “dropped narrative ball” in the last book), and I was very underwhelmed by this world as a whole. I didn’t feel as though Collins gave us enough tangible elements to chew on while we heard Katniss think out loud. Again, praise for the perspective, but penalties for the purposelessness. (Also, touché on the best seller list assessment. Totally agree.)

This is where my real disagreements kick in: the style and direct use of “brute force narrative.” If you want to create a second Battle Royale, that’s one thing, but I’m going to make a case that our culture no longer responds to this kind of storytelling. This didn’t even seem like it was supposed to be that kind of book, though the sociological contrasts were pretty sharp. Now, as a whole, we readers these days are very desensitized – this goes double for our younger generation, and I literally shudder and pray for the ones to follow them – but when a story like this continues to be the best-selling work for months, what does that say about current effective methodology?

(Stick with me, I’m going somewhere.)

Think about it: when we backpedal through entertainment history, there is an exponential rise in the effective use of harsher mediums. Even the old ‘1984’ Apple commercial made a whole bunch of people think differently about this company that was separating itself from IBM; that was just a commercial, just a computer company, but it made an entire generation of computer-using citizens shudder. Would that even raise an eyebrow in 2012? Think about complete films like Utopia, Blade Runner, Artificial Intelligence…stuff that really made people sit up and wonder what just happened. They had to use those elements to drive home their story because people didn’t pay attention any other way, yes. It was a hard message that required a hard slap to the face, yes. Would those even phase us now? No.

I realize that this reductive thinking earns the “cultures change over time, get over it” response, and rightly so. That said, I’m humbly asking for an introspective evaluation of how thick everyone’s shells are these days. (As you said: CoD, Jackass, etc.) The kids I know (even my own generation) are so bombarded by external inputs that it takes something like The Hunger Games just to leave a mark. Granted, I did read this 4 years after its release, but I can definitely say that things are worse now than they were in 2008 on this front. I’m not sure we need more cheese-grater stories to help our kids learn why they shouldn’t be killing one another. Or being oppressed by a completely Greco-Roman government. Or being forced to do the dirty work because the adults want a show.

Why do I say all this? Because I’m a Christian; also because I’m a storyteller at heart.

If our society – and by nature, the way we tell stories – continues to escalate in this fashion, when are we going to start needing to LIVE these plots to really “get” the author’s intentions? What will we have to do for OUR kids to absorb a new story? We already spend our time destroying one another in games (no, I’m not speaking out against games) so where do we go from here? What level can we rise to next? What is the next evolutionary step in our culture? This is something that people asked back when Lord of the Flies came out…are we there yet?

Please forgive the doom-and-gloom. I don’t mean to despair about the desensitization of our culture, though I do feel it impacts our storytelling and marketing decisions. I’m not here to ask a bunch of theoretical questions; I want analyze what doesn’t work and to do better.

I tend to agree that there’s a big pendulum swinging back and forth, slowly shifting from one extreme to another in all matters of culture and human behavior. Societies have been documented throughout history pursuing every imaginable horror, but I really don’t think that we need to keep pushing toward that in our entertainment. (Again: what is the cost we’re willing to pay?)

As a storyteller, I’m worried for the potential void that our meaningful works will jettison into. As a fellow human, I’m concerned for the kids. It’s a fine line, and this book gave me a reason to write about both. Sure, I didn’t really care for the craft, but I think we readers REALLY lose on the trade for take-away values.

This is where my argument ceases to be about craft, and appeals directly to the heart of anyone listening.

As a culture, extremism and sensationalism are what we live on. We’re so used to this that we don’t even blink as each industry attempts to out-shout one another for our attention. Rather than “break through” to this generation, I’d like to see a wave of creative resources that can withstand the storm, unshaken. Every time I think of “classic” tales, even in fiction, I look at the intangible permanence and say “THAT’S what I want to read to my kids.” We can all agree that these stories stand the test of time because of their own merit, not the way they appealed to a specific audience.

Perhaps my thesis for this post should read: “What will you pay for entertainment?”

Lots of words (thanks for reading), but still much to be said to future readers. As a Christian, I feel that artisans need to focus on timeless truths, spoken calmly, firmly, resolutely. No extremism or sensationalism needed; just write really good prose. I don’t care to indulge in any other form of “entertainment” any longer – and God knows I’ve spent many years doing so – because I don’t really see the use. If something needs to bash its way into my skull to make a point, there are a lot of things that are terribly wrong with ME. There are so many things that we can do with our time; I don’t see the need to forge more hard-edged media. I think our duty is to create culturally-compelling caricatures without crucifying Christ-clarifying certainties. (You’re welcome, Kevin.) There MUST be a way to tell a story that goes to your core without slicing you open. We MUST pursue a level of craft that is well-studied AND sticks to the Truth we know that drives everything we do/are.

I can’t hold Collins to the same standard I would myself, but that’s the type of story that I’m looking for, which is definitely not what I found in The Hunger Games.

After finishing the first work in this particular series, I have a lot to say.

First, I want to praise the author for penning a book that is written entirely in first-person. This is a daunting task and should not be ignored – Stephen King was correct in that respect. Her craft style wins her points; unfortunately, that’s about where I have to stop handing out accolades. Upon completing the work, I really didn’t think this one had been worth my time. There wasn’t enough to keep me going, aside from my desire to see it to completion so I could say that I read it.

It’s a nicely woven (though highly predictable) tale, placed in a setting that we can identify as similar to the history of our own nation. The inspiration for her work is founded in our own Great Depression, for starters. There are “districts” that function much like our early colonies, each with their specializations and flaws based on their location or trade. This is not a nation of people seeking new life in a new land, however; the common thread here is much more…personal.

Each section is full of hungry people. Each year these hungry people must send two of their children to fight in an arena to earn food for the people of that district. This is not a voluntary or particularly noble mission, but one of forced-submission by a ruling class that holds all the cards. “Reaping Day” is sort of their version of the Super Bowl, except sponsor dollars go toward medical supplies for wounded “tributes” instead of Doritos and David Beckham.

I couldn’t really get into the pacing of this work from the start. I found the narrative easy to follow, even engaging at times, but the action felt like I was already watching the highly-anticipated film. Kudos to Collins for her show and tell, but I mentioned on Twitter that I felt like I should have kept a log of memorable “shots” that would certainly be shown on screen. I decided not to waste time or money on the movie, however, so I guess I’ll never know how much I got right on that front.

Part of me wants to like this book, especially with the recent exposure and sustained popularity spotlight. There are many books that I read to understand their readership (see also: Twilight) and some I find to be quite interesting because of their style or craft expertise. However, in The Hunger Games, I find only a kids-that-would-be-kings competition that becomes a simple fight for love and honor as the book continues. There’s nothing wrong with these elements; actually I admire the basic motivations of the characters.

Now, I know what you’re thinking: “What about novels like Ender’s Game? Did you dislike that book as well?”

No, not at all; Ender’s Game is one of the few titles that I re-read at least once per year. I find a fundamental difference between these two works; there were adults to do the dirty work in Orson Scott Card’s masterpiece, children were battle-trained only for their fresh ideas. The Hunger Games shows adults working only to preen or provide; children compete in the most popular event of the year, making them more akin to a prized cock fight than genius minds. (Or, I don’t know, children?)

I can’t completely endorse either scenario, but even Ender’s erroneous exploits are easier to stomach than this teenage gladiatorial bloodbath. When we have to watch children rip each other apart at the whim of a government and high society of adults that are too haughty to help starving people all around them…I have to turn my head. On top of that, I detect the arrival of flimsy Twilight-like romance triangles unfolding between Katniss/Bella, Peeta/Jacob, and Gale/Edward. No thanks.

As a Christian, I have to read any work of fiction with both eyes wide open, taking every thought into captivity. This doesn’t mean we can’t consume anything but the Bible, but it does mean that we have to temper our intake with at least an equal balance between the two. I look at books like this though the lens of Scripture and cringe; I just burned a bunch of my balanced-intake-quota on a sub-par title.

There are many books from my past that I never should have read. No, this isn’t one of the worst, nor do I completely regret the careful inspection. That said, every time I pick up a new written work, I have to look harder for messages written between the lines. I feel that there is an intrinsic connection between our acceptance of entertainment countering the Law of God, and drifting further away from a firm standard of what we choose to consume in media. I will have (much) more on this later. For now, I urge my fellow readers to walk/read/watch worthy of your calling (Ephesians 4). There are so many better titles out there than The Hunger Games if you want a good read. Drop me a line and I’ll gladly recommend them.

So I ask you: why is this series still topping the charts? Perhaps this book hits close to home here in America, which is why everyone likes it. Perhaps there is truth to the seemingly distant struggle for survival within the lower class. Perhaps we’d like to ignore our fat-fisted feasting on food and frivolous entertainment, but not in trade for something like The Hunger Games in our own society. We certainly wouldn’t admit that openly, but I fear that our mass-consumption of books like these may say more than we ever could in words.

Needless to say, my home does not smell like smoke. At least, it shouldn’t.

Every night, after the cares of the world have been abated once more by yours truly (note: author’s actions may or may not actually be helpful) I arrive at home and begin working on things. It doesn’t matter what kind of things that I work on, only that I must be present in my home for this part of our story. As my college writing teacher used to say: “Our hero begins by doing something.” This was one of my favorite classes in college, and not just because of the great writing advice I learned; it was a time when I could sit down and make sense of the world. Things just worked when I was in those classes, because we had to hammer out words even when we didn’t want to, when we didn’t know what to say. We had to write, because we were paying for the class. We had to write, because our teacher would ask us to.

I felt like I had to write because I had no other option. Everything works better when I’m writing.

I’ve started, but not finished, a lot of articles about writing. There have been times when I mused over quirky approaches, marveled at humble sayings, or just plan wanted to scream because someone was cranking out words faster than I was. These were all good reasons to start something, but not good reasons to finish anything. It wasn’t the same as being back in my college writing classes, when you had to crank out words. It was more like being stuck in a room with way too many people all yelling for your attention. My hands would – and still do – fly to my ears to try and block out the noise. This meant that they were not on the keyboard, however, so very little writing ever got done. Which also meant that crowd in my room got louder and louder every day.

I live alone. I don’t smoke. Just the same: I can’t hear, smell, or see anything in this part of the film. The negatives have been seared, snipped, spoiled.

Every night, when I get home, I put on my jacket. This may seem strange to you, but I have a very chilly apartment right now, so I need to wear it. Try not to be distracted by the odd costume change for our main character in this scene.

My apartment has been chilly as of late thanks to two factors:
1) My neighbors smoke.
2) It has been chilly at night.

The apartment building that I moved into this month has central heating and air. I have a nice little closet with a nice little unit, which promises to heat and cool my atmosphere for a small fee. I pay this small fee every month, but only if I use the nice little unit. So far this month, I have not used it much at all. Therefore, it has been chilly in my apartment.

Why haven’t I used this little unit? Because my neighbors smoke. I don’t smoke.

Every night, as I don my jacket, I pick up a slight scent of smoke in the sleeves. I can’t stand that smell, which usually means that I grab my trusty Febreze bottle and try to keep smiling even though I smell terrible. I generally have a brief spout of depression, ranging somewhere between Hamlet and Eeyore, which passes in moments. This happens almost every night, whenever I wear the jacket.

Because, you see, I don’t smoke. My jacket just smells that way. Really.

I recently told one of my friends that I have a near-irrational intolerance of smoke smells. Not the fun cook-out-on-the-grill-with-family kind of smoke smells, but the kind that is reserved for cigarette fumes passed through central air ventilation systems in recently populated apartment buildings. You can smoke if you like, but I don’t want to own a smoking jacket.

One of the completely irrational things that I think about, every night, as I don my smoking jacket, is what would happen if my family or friends were to be around when I wore those clothes. I work really hard to make sure that smell isn’t an issue when anyone else is around; the very idea that I have a smoking jacket really bothers me.

I don’t smoke.

Perhaps this seems odd to you, dear reader, who is neither forced to smell my smoking jacket nor deal with the emotions that crash down on me every time I wear it. That’s fine, really. But for the last week and change (since I moved in to the nice new apartment building) I have only dared use the nice shiny unit in my nice little closet two times – one of those times was the night I woke up to 56 degrees and very few blankets. Not good. Still smoke-ridden.

I’m working on the problem, but I still have to wear that smoking jacket every night, right after coming home from saving the world (note: author is definitely not telling the truth this time).

Every night, I think about that smell. I sit and work, stand and clean, pace and think, wondering the whole time if this bothers anyone as much as it bothers me. Then I stop moving my hands for a few moments, just long enough to hear the chaos of the crowd in my room, and get back to work. As long as my hands are moving, I don’t have to listen to them tell me how awful it smells, how disappointed everyone must be that I haven’t figured out how to fix this problem yet. That’s what our hero does: fix problems for people. Yet, every night, he goes home and puts on his smoking jacket, which is pretty much driving him crazy. He’s a patient guy, even if a bit irrational at times.

When I was in college, my writing teacher taught me about making the people in the room calm down so we could do some work. These voices could be the opinions of others, or perhaps fear of success or failure, but it’s more likely that those voices are just little wisps of smoke in my jacket. I sit there, pondering how to save the world tomorrow (note: this is getting out of hand) and all I hear, see, and smell are those tiny bits of someone else’s ashes that drifted into my apartment. These voices managed to work their way up the pipes, float right past my shiny little heating and cooling unit, then fix themselves firmly onto my smoking jacket.

It didn’t used to be a smoking jacket. I don’t smoke.

One of the best things I ever learned about writing was not to quiet the voices, but to learn how to truly hear what was being said. The idea that we have to ignore the sources of noise or confusion is completely unhelpful. Sometimes there is a room full of people because they all have things to say, because there are real issues that need to be addressed, because the main character in this flick hasn’t been listening. If all he does is cover his ears and try not to breathe, how long is that going to last?

I don’t smoke, but right now I do have a smoking jacket. With a little time and effort, I think that can be fixed. It’ll take a lot of cleaning; working to fight the infection at the source, instead of refusing to acknowledge the nice little closet this new apartment has. It’ll take some growing and learning to take my hands away from my ears (when I can really smell my smoke-ridden sleeves) and putting them back where they belong; in front of me, doing the work. I don’t guess that it’ll be easy – like admitting a room full of voices – but I’d really like to not wear this smoking jacket any longer.

NOTE: Right now the popular way to add these features is using FBML. This method is being depreciated March 11, 2011 as stated yesterday on the Facebook developer blog.

To preserve your content and future-proof your fan page, please watch the video I just made for how this is going to work from this day forward!

Watch here: https://www.youtube.com/?v=H7WqvOxGaHw

To boil it down: I think you have to be an inventor before you can take inventory.

Plenty of opportunities come along when I’d like to step back, take stock and congratulate myself on current accomplishments. This is fairly impossible unless you’ve actually DONE something. Yes, this seems like a “no duh” sort of thing, but please don’t tell me I’m the only one that does this now and then.

I think we need to travel before we can talk about where we’ve been. There’s a certain air to the collective unconscious that avails exposition without exploration. Where this damages us, however, is in the area of inherited expertise vs actual expertise. One is head knowledge, the other is actual know-how…the stuff dreams are made of.

This post certainly doesn’t break any barriers of logic, though I hope it does insist you ponder how things work in your own processes. The realm of the human mind – combines with the interconnecting fibers of our existence in this universe – are very fascinating to me. I don’t claim to have answers, just a series of questions that I’d like to explore further.

As for taking inventory, I’d like to do a fair share of that in 2011, so I’m going to stop dreaming and get back to work. I have some fun things planned – hope you stay tuned.

I have to wonder though: what would Freud do if he had Facebook? I mean, the guy had an obsession with figuring people out, so this level of human nature exposition would have made him a complete insomniac. I was looking back through 2010 with these glasses on, becoming increasingly convinced that every interaction we have completes us a little more. It’s obvious that we are social creatures…but what does the massive shift in communication really mean?

Never in human history has the human race been so connected. The fact that we can open a discussion with anyone on the planet – regardless of distance/language barriers – at any hour of the day is incredible. I think we’re reaching a point where we are limited only by how long we can remain conscious every day. I’ve seen more information on organizing information this year than in my entire life.

How does that affect our ability to communicate?

One can assume that more connections = less concentration. We have a fix for that too: tiny blurbs of information for the twitchy people, long-form compilation services for the musing types, simplification aggregators for those who like headlines, the list goes on. We can literally connect with people any way we like, however often we like, on any device we like. It’s amazing.

This seems like the perfect situation for a seeker like Freud, but is it really? Would he like the constant flow of communication and connections? Does his analytical passion sift through the sheer volume or become overrun?

I think this is worth consideration: when we focus on connecting, compiling and consorting between every person possible, we avail ourselves to more petrification than ever before. Forget distractions and organizational issues, I’m talking about the effect of that many brains tuned in to one another.

I’m going a bit counter-culture here for a moment, so stay with me. Everyone desires their unique voice, but they also want to touch base with everyone else. We all enjoy the convenience of mass-communication, but we find a need for personal time all the more important. When we sort through incredible resources like Wikipedia, we sometimes find ourselves accepting the wisdom of masses without hesitation. Does this compute? Do WE compute without consideration, even before we cogitate?

Freud was a strange guy, but some of his observations into the human condition were incredible. I have to wonder what he would do with so much source material to consider, how it might have affected his work, if his theories would have differed and so on. What I’m really fascinated with, however, is if OUR ability to form conclusions is unleashed or hindered by this day we live in. What do YOU think?

Steeping Indefinitely if Necessary

Diligence is one of my favorite topics…ever. I’m also shamelessly addicted to how tea takes time to steep, which matches this drive to be diligent perfectly. Never before have I realized how well these two pieces of my life fit together, which naturally means I’m going to pause and explore it through writing.

Tea is an old interest of mine. I have memories of watching previous generations make steaming mugs of their favorite concoctions – each one had something they really liked to drink. I came from a primarily non-alcoholic background, so when things got going it was various teas and coffees that were consumed, not alcoholic beverages. This made me learn to appreciate the subtle mixtures in tea from a young age, something that still fascinates me to this day: if you like yours served a certain way, you work to get it right.

On the other hand, the topic of endurance has also been a big deal to me for as long as I can remember. Part of my full name means “enduring” and really describes my life as a whole. (More on that one another time.) Though my interest in working hard has nothing to do with tea, the principles that encourage growth in both areas are very much the same.

If you want to have something great to enjoy, you have to work hard and be willing to wait.

This isn’t ground-breaking by any means…but it can be easy to misplace. This past year brought some neat adventures, but the times when I worked hard and remained patient really paid off. There’s a lot of wisdom in zooming out to see the big picture (which drives you to remain patient) and zooming in to view the details (which drives you to work hard on the details.) I think this is a good balance for every major pursuit or direction in life – something worth considering.

Bottom line: being steeped in whatever you’re doing is going to benefit everything in then end. If you’re going after something, surround yourself with the best tools possible, work hard, then wait for dividends. Hard work and patience pays off! We tend to appreciate things more when we have to work for them, and that takes time.

#14 – Yes Man vs Picking Battles

Sometimes…you just have to say no. I have a very hard time with this.

For as long as I can remember, my role in friendships/relationships/acquaintences has been one of helping out. I love to add what I do best to what people are working on – generally speaking this results in their project or task expanding into new territories, gaining world accliam*, etc. (Note: World acclaim is currently pending.)

Seriously though: I just like to help people. There’s a lot of stuff I can do well, but when I add the things I do (plus loads of hard work) to what someone else is doing, stuff just works. I don’t know why this happens but I do capitalize on it whenever I can. I love seeing people reach goals and break through whatever holds them back.

The downside to having this mindset, however, is that I tend to say “yes” to most things that come my way. When I see something tipping over, I tend to get up and help make it sturdy again. All well and good…but then I have to rush back to what I was doing. Rinse, repeat, 25 years later and I’m still learning.

This week I had a fun conversation with some of my clients: “As a general rule, I no longer schedule anything day-of unless it’s mission critical. This goes for real-life, not just work, which means I’m never “on call” by default. I plan my day when I go to bed the night before, so unless something is burning, dying or shutting down I rarely work on things that aren’t in my previous night’s schedule. Why? Simple: I have a heart for helping people and say yes too easily!”

Bottom line? 2010 has taught me that I need to focus less on the entire stream and specialize more on specific things. I expect this will manifest in various ways throughout next year, but something very simple like saying “no” here and there has been a really interesting adventure…

#15 – Don’t Run Holiday Inn

Every year, right around Christmas, my family somehow manages to converge upon the same location. I joke with my mom that I “schedule this meeting 12 months in advance” but it really is true – Christmas is the one holiday I try my very hardest not to miss. This year was no exception, with my sister and her husband coming in from Arizona, me traveling from Missouri, and the rest of my family preparing a place to meet in Nebraska.

Beyond the good times, however, I realized something very important about how we relate to one another throughout the year. We all do a pretty good job of staying in contact, but it doesn’t look like Christmas with all of us being in one physical location very often. Part of this is the fact that we all have lives and families in different places – I suddenly realized the correlation between all of us and the film Holiday Inn.

In the film, Bing Crosby plays a character who wants to break away from traditional showbiz. His vision is an inn, one that only opens on holidays. He wants to create a special atmosphere for people observing special events thought the year. I’ve always enjoyed this film for several reasons, but this was the first year I really took it to heart. We sort of run our own “Holiday Inn” around here.

Don’t get me wrong – the way my family comes together for big events doesn’t bother me. I deeply appreciate the opportunities we get to spend time with one another every year. While I do wish those opportunities came along more often, I’m still very thankful for the time we get.

I have some good friends that are on the other side of the spectrum: they see their family once or twice a year, but it’s an atmosphere of tension and disagreement. Resentment and jealously permeate their gatherings. It almost makes me feel like I’ve taken advantage of having such a great group of people to call my family. Surely there have been times of lax commitment to this unit – I haven’t always appreciated the time we get together. I can’t change the past, but I can build for the future.

As I looked around the table this afternoon, I saw the faces of people I love very much. Each of them means a separate part of the world to me, something that time and distance can’t ever take away. My goal for this year and every year to follow is this: make absolutely sure holidays are not the only time we are “open” for fellowship together. This might mean being extra intentional about staying in touch, working visits into vacation plans, whatever it takes. I never want to take my family for granted – you won’t see me trying to run a Holiday Inn.

#16 – All We Lack is Finishing…and Starting

This year has been full of things I wish had been started sooner.

Really, there’s not much you can do if you don’t start.

…I’m going to go start something, back in a bit.

#17 – Twitter Story

I’ve had a twitter account for over 3 1/2 years. How long have I been active? Roughly 3 1/2 weeks.

I’m not exactly sure what happened: did I chicken out from social interaction, was I scared of constant updates, could I have misunderstood the potential? Whatever the cause, I have learned that a tool like this should never have been left sitting dormant. I absolutely love the platform as a whole, plus I’m excited to see how it grows and evolves over time. I don’t know what’s coming next for communication, but I like what I see here.

See, I’m a sucker for conversation. I’m a pretty natural introvert, but I really do enjoy talking to people. I have a strange obsession with understanding how people work and what makes them tick, so peering through endless windows into human interaction is one of the best things I can spend time doing. I’m fascinated by the idea of “human engineering” in a way.

There are times when I look at my don’t-try-the-new-thing impulse and have to shake my head – I was slow to embrace texting just as I couldn’t bring myself to use Twitter. Why I’ve resisted new things is a mystery to me, because I love to learn and grow however possible.

Here’s what I’ve learned: any time you have the opportunity to expand your sphere of comfort, you should do so.

So much can happen when you just get up and do something you’re not 100% sure about. You end up learning things about yourself, people around you, the combined space you’re in and so on. In order to really tell you what I mean, I have to show you something new: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4jBJON7kUzw

This is the first of many video blogs for me. I went and bought a pocket-sized camera to force myself into action, so here’s the first one. Sometimes you have to leap without a parachute to really get a view of what’s coming next. I hope you stick around to watch how these grow and change over time. Maybe I’ll tweet about it sometime…

#18 – Omit Needless Words

Exactly.

#19 – Don’t Take Long Showers

(Please forgive the many naked-guy-in-the-hot-water references to follow.)

I’m not sure I have ever met someone who dislikes a long, hot shower. Things are finally cooling off here in Missouri, so the idea of climbing into bed after bathing in steam (or rushing to it in the morning) is a very inviting one. Everything feels better after a hot shower…but also I think it can be a terrible idea.

Why do we take long showers, anyway? Perhaps to soothe aching muscles, snag relaxing time away from distractions, or have some sense of ownership over one part of our crazy lives. Regardless of your reasons, there’s a lot to be said for slowing down to enjoy it. This year has taught me not to focus on that momentary bliss, however, and instead consider what it does to my awareness of events around me.

For example: earlier this year I had a “long shower” mentality with my income. Things were going pretty well and I had a decent stream, so I paused to enjoy the steam. When it cleared, I was shocked by the cold air and left somewhat…exposed. Things dried up at my full-time job and I had to kick freelancing into high gear just to get by. Who knew the temperature around me would change so fast?

I’m finding that staying comfortable can bring about a loss of focus. I get that everyone works well when they’re in their “zone” but it doesn’t mean that is always best. Sometimes being forced to jump in and get cleaned up within a certain amount of time is a good thing – it certainly lit a fire under my work mentality this year. I knew I had a certain number of days before reaching zero, so I dried off and got to work.

Environment changes are a great tool for productivity. Things that force you to grow and adapt can make a huge difference in the long run. You might catch a chill here and there, but overall you’ll have more stamina when it happens the next time. Please don’t overrate this skill, and for Pete’s sake don’t get so focused on the warm fuzzies that you miss what lies outside your door. Soak up the spray in front of you, then towel off and get back at it. Being a bit wet behind the ears is fine – you learn to get those hard-to-reach places clean that way.

#21 – Backseat Consulting

Something really hit me this year: everyone is in the consulting business. This fascinates me a lot more than it did last year, because I’ve been in environments all through 2010 where it made worlds of difference. How? I think the view from the back seat is a lot more different than we think.

One example is business. I was full-time for a local web company at the start of the year, which eventually devolved into a 5-hour weekly retainer position. I learned a lot about how I was viewed through the change: they kept me around because I knew stuff. This is a great position to be in, don’t get me wrong, but I found that once your actual services are no longer needed, your lifespan can be tossed around on a whim. Unless the know-how and “chops” you have are always in the 1% margin, they might not find reason to keep you employed. Does giving your input make you invaluable? Nope, not unless they clearly communicate what they want to do down the road so you can prepare, train and learn. Great advice does no good to those unwilling to hear it.

A second example is the number of one-on-one relationships I’ve built through my church. Getting away from the pews avails you to hearing a lot more about what’s going on in lives around you, which I’ve been able to do a lot this year. (Side note: Christianity as a whole desperately needs to be more about this.) Conversations with people living on the street didn’t happen because I was telling them how to live – who am I to do that? Instead, we talked about whatever was current in their situation and went from there. Did they need $5 that day? Cool, it’s all theirs if I have it and I’m not going to tell them where to spend it. If they asked for advice or I felt like we had a good relationship, then MAYBE I’d suggest something I’ve tried. Big difference to an “The answer is 42” mentality.

Yes, I’m rambling, but I find it interesting how much “consulting” we do without even thinking about it. I think there are times and places for it, but I have found MANY more times when I need to stay silent. In other words: relevant information does not equal respectful input.

It’s like everyone is in the back seat giving advice to the driver. We find it in social circles, business relationships, financial decisions, etc. There’s nothing wrong with this – we make most of our decisions based on the input of those around us – but an inerrant flaw permeates the “culture” of consulting: the view is different from the back seat. Since there’s only one “driver” in every person’s life, we need to respect that and be careful not to flood them with advice. Too many voices saying “go left” or “turn right” just adds stress and distractions to a choice someone is making. Plus it gives you a reputation for being a controlling jerk. As Bob Newhart would say: “Stop it!”

By all means, be willing to give your opinions and share experiences. Trying to consult from the back seat can be rough though, because you can’t see everything coming at the driver further down the road. I think personal relationships are what bridge that gap…but more on that later. For now, I’ll be working on whatever it takes to build that trust first.

#22 -Timing is Everything

You may notice that this post is a few days behind schedule…I can’t think of a better way to make this point. Timing is something you get a “feel” for throughout life, but I’m convinced that it’s nothing you can fully grasp.

One of the biggest things I’ve been learning this year has been about proper timing. (I don’t have it figured out yet.)

I know this: patience goes a long way. As a Christian I believe God has a handle on the whole time thing, even to a point of my daily adventures around this rock. This year I’ve physically paused just in time to avoid very real dangers, pushed through uncertain times towards long-term figurative goals, waited to speak until I had something to say, etc. It may seem small or simplistic, but all of this has been valuable as I continue to learn more about timing on various levels.

Finally, there are many times when NOW is the time to act. Have an idea? Now is a good time to write it down, or better yet, try it out. Want to chase a dream? Today is day 1.

“How” we decide “when” is of great interest to me. I’d like to explore that further at some point, because I really believe you look at events in your life differently when you take a “big picture” approach. Plus it can be a lot of fun to step back and stop sweating the small stuff while you watch things in motion around you.

#23 – It Doesn’t Have To Make Cents

At the start of the year, I was working full-time for a local web company. I had been doing freelance work on the side for a while, but wasn’t seeing much growth in either position. Eventually the full-time gig scaled back into a paid retainer position, and I wound up with a fair amount of time on my hands. Not good. I had just signed a lease on an apartment (like, day before) and had some other bills to take care of as well. Now what?

After my job changed, I immediately went to the freelance market and tried to drum up some business. Through lots of hard work and prayer…I made ends meet for a couple weeks. I should have had more in savings, but I didn’t, so I kept at it. I was looking at working for tech places, gas stations, video stores, you name it. I was willing to do what must be done, but nothing felt right.

See, here’s what I know: I was made to work hard and help people. Even though I can do that no matter where I work – you can’t beat the schedule freedom of freelancing. I spend a good portion of my week doing whatever I can for those around me, and working freelance avails some neat opportunities for that to happen. It’s also a pain in the neck to manage, but I wouldn’t trade it for anything. I’m at a point now where I can split my freelance time with a new business startup (more on that later) and I’m grateful for how this direction has been providing for me.

Bottom line, and the theme of many things to come, is this: when you simply can’t ignore something you are dieing to try, you need to give it a shot. Time, planning and prayer are all part of that, though you also have to get up and DO something. Even when the math doesn’t work and your passion doesn’t make cents…yet. Sometimes that “last straw” is one of the best things that can happen to you.

#24 – Time For Building Stronger Networks

It’s pretty safe to say I have been “active” on various forms of social media for many years. From working on admin teams to building forum relationships, I’ve spent a fair amount of time building virtual equity with many people around the world. While I would not trade the networking lessons, there are a few key things I’ve learned from all this:

• Using social media should be part of your everyday life. I know that’s bold, but you really ought to be finding like-minded people and networking with them. Want to talk tea? Passionate about biking? Love movies? Go talk to people, make a few friends, then get to know them better. Amazing.
• There are “good” and “bad” uses of social networking time. Hear me on this: I’m not talking about Farmville vs. your long-lost relatives, rather the balance between the social “high” and actually building something you can come back to. (I heard the term “scaling every relationship” as a great way to put it. Grow your connections in quality before quantity!)
• Time spent online should COMPLIMENT time spent investing in those directly around you. General principle of life, I know, but easy to forget once you start into all the “good things” you do for people online. I learned this the hard way.

I try not to say things without having reason behind my words, so please understand I’m only making observations here. Even though I’ve been involved in social mediums for years, stepping back and taking stock has helped me a lot. There are connections I’m not using like I should, others I ought to get rid of, along with new ones I’ve been running from for years (looking at you, Twitter). It’s been cool to see the response from OTHER HUMAN BEINGS that enjoy lots of the same things I do – trying to see every screen name differently has been a cool part of this year so far.

#25 – This Year Has Been Awesome

I can’t find a reason to say this year has been less amazing than last year. In fact, I’d say it has been significantly better than last year overall, even though there have been a lot of new challenges.

Here are a few:
– Dropped Full-Time Employment
– Moved to New Area of Town
– Went Full-Time into Freelance Web Development & Design
– Started Teaching/Co-Teaching 3 New Classes at Church
– Co-Founded Small Marketing Company (more on that later)
– Posted First Tweet

As you can see, there have been a few possible avenues for growth and change so far! I’ve got a crazy month ahead of me, and who knows what December might hold, but so far I wouldn’t trade this “hustle” for anything. I feel like every day lets me learn and grow in new areas, meet new people, gain additional perspective on life, etc. Wouldn’t trade it!

I’m going to continue to make observations about this year every few days until 2011. Stay tuned and be sure to follow me at Twitter/Facebook or snag the RSS feed for updates!

Dear Mr. King,

I just finished listening to your book “On Writing” this evening. Thank you for taking time to regale your thoughts on the craft, and offer insight for old and new writers alike. Even my shoes thank you for heaving aside much of the discernible bovine feces we face on this path.

There is one thing I’d like to ask: how do you silence the muse long enough to write? I find that he is far too comfortable at my side, never pausing to consider where I am or what I may be doing. His whispers reach my ears in the check-out line, at my day job, throughout my dreams, and God knows he loves to watch me shower; I can’t seem to get much time away from him. Even if I sit down in front of the television, all I hear are complaints about how awful it is when compared to recent books I read. He gave me this letter while I made tea; I had no intention of sending you a note until he wouldn’t shut up about it.

Perhaps this is a trivial question, and if so I am remiss to have wasted the chance to speak with you. I cannot find anyone who will answer this, however, so if it finds you with a similar struggle I would be honored to hear your thoughts.

Thank you for your time – please keep writing.

Sincerely,

CK Hicks

This month holds the 6-month mark for my time in Springfield, MO. I moved because I felt like I should; the list of reasons and opportunities were encouraging, challenging, inviting. So far, things have been working out very well!

Since a few weeks before I moved, I have been keeping careful record of various areas in my life. I won’t bore you with details; I wanted to track growth in areas like creative writing, how and when I’ve had ideas, Bible studies, meanings to dreams, books I’m reading, artwork and photography, etc. This has resulted in a volume of information, but there’s still something missing: I have not progressed in making that data more than statistics. I’ve done a good job compiling things, but I think it’s time to put it to better use.

I believe it would be interesting to put a newsletter together. If you pay attention to my Facebook feed you’ll see bits and pieces of what I’m up to; if you visit my website you’ll find samples of projects I’ve worked on; if you follow my updates on deviantART/Flickr you’ll see some creative/recent ventures. These are all good ways to stay in touch, but why not try to mux all of them into a single update?

Here’s my goal: during the month of March, I’ll put two newsletters together. These will have snippets of content – possibly including several areas I mentioned above – serving as an abbreviated breakdown of what I’m up to. I’ll release these on my usual channels (Facebook, personal site, dA, etc.) on the 15th and 30th of the month, as well as offer an e-mail version to anyone who’d like to receive it. This will be a trial-run for the format; if things go well I’ll look at continuing the trend, if not I’ll learn from it and proceed in another direction!

Personally, I find it interesting to learn more about people and see what they find important in their life. Assuming there are several of you who do the same, perhaps this will be a fun way to re-connect or spark a conversation. (Part of me wants to try the format simply because I’ve never done it!) Stay tuned and I’ll see what I can do…

https://ckhicks.com/newsletter-signup

This passage states that Job’s three friends ceased to answer him. It wasn’t that they didn’t love him, and we know this is true because of previous chapters. They had been going back and forth for a long time; what they came to realize, was that he no longer had the ability to learn from sources besides himself.

When we defend our position to the end (Job 35:16) it leaves no room for outside involvement. They can’t even argue with us, because we have things so worked out. That’s the point, right? Make sure there can be no case against us. Eliminate all chances of wrong on our part. Claim to have done our best.

Even if we are completely right in what we say, we are never justified in saying it. Only God can acquit one of wrong (Mark 2:7) and it is better for others to praise us, rather than ourselves. (Proverbs 27:2) By taking a position of defense, there are times when even our closest friends are warded from our side. In effort to prove our innocence, we actually cast support away.

The danger here is two-fold:

• Our friends will pull away, unable to be close to us as they desire. I have been on both sides of this, and neither is conducive to a working relationship . Relationships have to be built on trust; spending time second-guessing doesn’t help strengthen the bond between two individuals.

• We are left to fight battles on our own, which reduces our ability to win. (Leviticus 26:8) By casting off the support of others, we isolate ourselves. This can be a frightening thing for a caring person to watch, but imagine how it would feel to be the one left standing there!

I believe it is very important to examine areas of our lives for this trap. It starts small, but can quickly take hold of your communication and influence others around you. I must admit: there was a time when I was not sure my closest friends would stand and fight for me. This belief, having nothing to do with their own actions, almost cost me one of the most influential situations of my life. Please take time to see if you are doing this; don’t fight the battles alone!

———-

Sunlight spilled through the stained-glass window set high into the stone wall. Hundreds of tiny facets bent rays of light into a rainbow of color that cascaded to the stone floor below. The cathedral was a beautiful sight, and the rows of silk that swirled around the open space seemed to contain the splendor. A small gathering of people near the front of the room sat in total silence, none wishing to disturb the events proceeding before them. This was truly a wonderful day that none would forget.

Dozens of flowers were held by all three brides at the altar; their grip was firm and anxious, full of excitement as they absorbed every detail. Folds of beautiful cloth caressed their slender frames; the three men standing near them were as statues, through close observation would many glances cast at their respective females. Their own attire was crisp and tight on their broad shoulders, forming strong pillars for their brides to lean upon. No one would have noticed if the building were to collapse around them; each was staring intently at the leader of their group as he spoke words of encouragement to them.

“Three couples, three unions, three new adventures about to begin.”

As the ceremony drew to a close, each pair stood apart and spoke to one another in private. The vows they took were sacred and unyielding against anything life would bring; these were life-long commitments, and none took it lightly. A small cheer erupted from the onlookers as each couple turned to face them. Having sealed their bonds with the public profession of love, the celebration festivities would begin!

The camp was a center of joyful commotion that night. Fires danced in their circles as the family turned circles around the fire. Smiles and warm embraces were shared as the group told stories, exchanged gifts, and enjoyed a bountiful feast. Togetherness was a tangible presence that evening; nothing outside the ring of tents could disturb this group.

As the moon rose high into the sky, each of the newlyweds packed their gear and wished the others a fond farewell. They rode over the hills in different directions; each intent on spending time with one another in camps of their own.

Those at the main camp watched the riders depart, staring into the night until only shadows remained. They moved back to the fire and sat there for several hours; stories of times past twisted to form a tight net that bound them close together. At times, one or two of the figures would leave the circle for a short while, to return after they had taken a moment to reflect on the events of the evening.

* * *

One of the younger females was slowly approaching, her head tilted sideways as if to see around the edge of the young man’s shoulders. As she drew close, he turned and smiled half-heartedly in her direction. She returned the smile, then extended her hands to reveal a small item. It was something they had found on an old desk some years back, and to that day had continued to provide entertainment for them from time to time. The only problem was that it broke rather frequently, as was the case once again.

He reached for the item and started to work, his hands moving quickly over the surface of the object. After a few moments he handed it back to her and waited. The item began to shine in her hand, then abruptly sprang to life and glowed a brilliant rainbow of colors. Her eyes lit up and she held on tight; the little widget had a way of escaping.

Turning to run back up the hill, she expressed her gratitude in a cheery shout over her shoulder. He heard her present the item and the elated responses of the group. This usually made him grin, but tonight it did not. He could find no peace in being helpful today; somehow the very life of his actions had drained away. It seemed a hopeless situation, one that nobody else even perceived as abnormal.

To him the distinction was clear – could it be any more obvious? Not to him, perhaps, but most certainly to the others, as he was allowing himself to realize for the first time. All party members felt as though they lost out now and then. To someone like him, the success of the others was as if it were his own; this weighed heavily at times and he needed a break, but pausing for too long often led to discouragement. It was his job to respond correctly, not dictate what was brought before him.

He sighed and slowly stood, shaking both the dust and sour mood from his figure. With a final glance toward the campfire, he turned and begin his trek into the night. A lengthy walk lie ahead of him, and he could not afford to carry any extra baggage born by grief or regret.

Had this situation occurred only a short time ago, he would have kept walking; the feelings he had for the group had been thrown to and fro since then. Some days it seemed as though it would never get better, but he still hoped it would. The young man slowed slightly as thoughts ran through his mind: he knew if he walked away that light would fade completely; he may never see the outline of his form on the ground, perhaps the fire would never again chance to shine at his back. So many routes away from here would only turn to lead him back one day…why not just stay?

The young man shook his head, laughing softly at his plight and turning back toward the light. He’d travel with this group until it really was time to go elsewhere. It wasn’t long before he saw the outlines of his companions, heard their joyful exclamations at the sight of him. As he re-entered the camp, his tired features stayed behind in the shadows and lay behind him for good.

One crucial aspect to sharing God’s Word is constancy. We have a responsibility to share what has been revealed to us in its entirety. It does not require anything but a heartfelt desire to share our greatest news with those nearest us.

In Acts 8, we see a picture of the early church under fire. Saul goes to great lengths to tear down what Jesus built. This pressure on believers led them to flee his wrath, yet in verse 4 we find that they continued to spread their news to all people. This group was likely not ordained, nor did they have churches to attend when they fled. As a matter of fact, it is implied that they did not seek audiences at all, but instead spoke their message wherever they were.

This certainly shows their willingness, desire, and need to spread what was inside of them. (Luke 6:45) When someone decides to speak, they do it as a radiation from the source instead of a concentration around it. In a sense, they don’t “preach” their message from a place of comfort; it is freely given to any who will listen.  This emphasizes that we have a responsibility to share what we know because we posses it, and the early church modeled the universal responsibility Jesus charged us with.

When persecution hits a group, it is generally believed that those holding the big stick are the victors. What we see throughout history is a different story: persecution often spreads things further than the original effort! After taking great steps to disperse the core followers of Christ, it was believed that they would stop speaking of Him. When we look at the results we find the opposite to be true. (Paul himself verifies it: Philippians 1:12-13)

No book has ever been under the same pressure as the Bible. No message has been so widely spoken as the Word of God. No figure has been given the attention that Jesus Christ can claim. These facts, confronted by eons of suppression, can only be a testament to how God chose to work through our efforts to squelch His message. As a matter of fact, we find that the range of persecution extended the range of Christianity.

As Saul attempted to stamp out the followers of Christ, he actually made it more accessible. One of the precipitating actions to this change was when they stoned Stephen. After killing him, Saul drove the Christians out; forcing them to be solitary or with few ties back to the rest of the body. This only encouraged their speech, however, and we can almost state that the blood of Stephen was literally watering the roots of the early church.

I believe it is the responsibility of the church to spread the news of Christ. This means that we don’t have to do anything fancy, get incredibly emotional, or engage in passionate discussion to make a difference. All we have to do is decide to share what we have with someone else. When we choose to do good, it influences our heart; in that moment it becomes impossible for our message or movement to rendered useless. Wherever we are, we have a job to do. Are we?

Starting from today, it’s easy to glance back and see a long line of footprints winding through 2009. It was an interesting year; one with many “firsts” actually. It would be impossible to list all of the new paths and directions, but here are a few:

On the Move
I lived in Nebraska for 23 years before moving to Springfield, Missouri last September. The change has been amazing in more ways than one, and I’m excited to see what happens next.

Hackintosh
For my next trick: I’m typing this on a Dell netbook running Mac software. It was a bit frustrating to get working, but has had very rewarding results! It’s amazing how well Snow Leopard runs on such a tiny device…definitely nice to get things in one location smaller than my Bible.

Intentional Reading
While I’ve always loved to read, this year I made a more conscious effort to re-literate myself. I figured there are plenty of opportunities if you look for them; I ended up finding time for an average of roughly 4 books per month. Not a bad start…

Polyphasic Sleep
I attempted this feat while living with a few friends early in the year. My efforts met with mixed results, but it was a very interesting experience! Go look it up sometime…it’s pretty incredible.

Got a Job
I have been freelancing for years, seldom working at an actual location for any period of time. This has served me well, but when I got down here the projects seemed to freeze. I decided to go full-time at a local business fixing and building websites. I’ve never had formal instruction in this area, but so far it’s going rather well.

Devorak
I risked a new keyboard layout over the summer; I really liked what I found, but also saw that it was something I need to keep working on. I never took typing, but it was probably a lot of fun to watch me try to figure out the new configuration.

That sums up some of 2009. There are many more things I could write about, but I’d like to keep this fairly short. Rather than list things I’m “going to do” in the coming year, I’d like to ponder 2009 and suggest improvements:

Writing
This is my favorite one to think about: putting pen to paper. I was writing regularly through a good portion of 2009, but near the end of the year the stories never really left my notebooks. I’m not going to make any promises – why speak for tomorrow when today isn’t over? – but this is near the top of my list of “things to keep doing” in 2010.

Studying
I’ve made it a point to not list what I’m studying online, whether that includes history, Bible topics, or new languages. That said, I think there’s a lot we can learn when we study things together, so I may try to expound on a few topics later this year.

Working
I like where I work, though the hours and schedules are a bit interesting. Having freedom over my work schedule is amazing, don’t get me wrong, I just find myself wanting to do more than coding all day long. I’m not sure what it needs quite yet, but I think it’s safe to say I’ll soon find a way to re-order some commitments and work hours to allow for other projects.

Training
No details here just yet. I want to actively offer more of what I know to others, however that looks. I’m no Einstein, but I do have a gift of figuring things out; seems like I really ought to be archiving more of those efforts!

Reading
While 48 books is a nice number, I made the decision to focus on that too late in the year. Starting now, however, I know I can attain a better number; I’m going to use 5 books per month as a starting point (60 for the year) and see what happens. This will keep me on my toes, but it’s always worth making time to read more. (Note: I may have something new to share on this very soon…check back if the idea of reading en-mass appeals to you!)

That’s all for now! Be safe and have a great holiday today – I’ll swing by later with a tray of cookies.

Since the first week of November, I’ve been wondering about Thanksgiving. Why do we take one day and offer thanks, how should it differ from the rest of the year, are we actually focusing on more than food, etc. I narrowed it down to three questions and one statement – I’ll keep it short!

• Am I thankful for anything?
• Why am I thankful for those things?
• How am I showing thanks?

The last one is the most practical when we think about Thanksgiving day. One of the most sincere ways to show thanks is by surrendering something we care about. For me, this means being willing to give up something I like for the betterment of something else. It might be something simple: performing an act of service, or being willing to listen when I’d like to speak. Sometimes it may require more sacrifice: giving more than just what I can spare, or dying to myself out of dedication to something else.

I know this was a bit shorter than most of my ponderings, but I found it interesting to examine nonetheless. So often we’re asked to “remember to be thankful” but never really pushed to think about what or why that is. Try to define if/why/how you’re thankful for things sometime; don’t settle for easy answers, really think it out and make it personal.

“If we, out of humble appreciation, dedicate ourselves to responsibility with the things we have, we will never require what we have not.” –Baird Metternich

Have a very happy Thanksgiving day!

Halo. Sitting and playing Halo neutralizes the effects of allergies.

This dawned on me as I was leaving my friend’s house yesterday evening. He has a cat, and usually cats make my allergy meters reach new levels every time I encounter them. It’s gotten a little better as I’ve gotten older, but still…

Anyway, we were sitting there playing Halo for a few hours, and all the while this cat is walking around and rubbing up against everything like cats love to do. I didn’t think anything of it since it didn’t seem to be bothering me, but as soon as we stopped and I got into my car I was instantly rubbing my eyes and feeling that familiar burn from the agitation. When I stopped to think about why it hadn’t bothered me before then, I realized that it was because we had been playing Halo.

I’m no doctor, but I think it’s clear to see that Halo stops allergies. Now if you’ll excuse me I need to go fill a subscription.

A lone figure emerged from one of the structures, her short light hair fluttering slightly in the breeze. She moved to the rock where her best friend sat guard; his countenance changed even before she approached, the sound of her footsteps reaching his ears and bringing a smile to his tired face. She ran her hands through his hair and maneuvered onto the rock next to him, leaning into his waiting arms. The male kissed her forehead softly and pulled his spouse-to-be closer to his chest. Neither one moved for what felt like hours; when the noise of a tent opening made them stir, however, the sun was still only half-visible on the edge of their view.

They turned to see another female party member exiting her tent. Reaching into the structure once more, she retrieved her cloak and gathered it around herself as she stepped into the sunlight; it glistened as though thousands of tiny diamonds were sewn into the purple fabric. She approached the tent where her best friend slept and playfully shook the support rods. After a few moments she heard a brief commotion inside, then the groggy dark-skinned face of her companion appeared from within the folds of the canvas. His face brightened immediately when he saw her; still holding the book he had been reading, he rose and embraced the woman he had grown to love more than anything in the world. The two of them advanced toward the rock where their friends sat, and soon all four of them were talking and laughing together.

What truly defines a journey, and how does one qualify an adventure? Stories of struggles and victories wound between the four friends, each couple with a unique story to tell about how they had met. Somehow the very ties that once entangled them now bound them together; though some might call their pasts perilous at best, it was the hardship and struggle of a situation that made it truly become a journey. Adventure is defined not in steps taken, but in the trail they form behind us.

The eldest of the group rose from where he had been sitting in his tent; his hair was disheveled from a restless night, and after taking a swig from his canteen he smiled and looked over at his companions. Each one was different, yet they were blessed to tread the same ground time and time again. Many battles had hardened this group but they could still laugh and cajole as family. It was a mystery which he wasn’t sure he wanted to find the meaning to. Every day he found new reasons to continue, each bond becoming closer through new challenges. His thoughts began to drift to members of the party far away; though the distance between them was lessening, it felt as though the gap would never completely close. So many things had to be said at their next meeting, too much had gone unnoticed or masked by silence over the years.

A small rock interrupted his thoughts; the object sailed harmlessly over his shoulder and his head snapped up to see where it had come from. The second female stood a short distance away, hands planted on her hips in feigned impatience. She grinned and motioned for him to start packing up the camp, and as he looked past her he saw his companions doing the same. He playfully waved her off as he moved to strike his tent. The smile that crossed his face was genuine, though it would not survive the onslaught of memories that promised to haunt him soon. It was a new day, however, and perhaps it would finally bring about the unfulfilled promises of so many prior…

‘Hurry along, we don’t want to miss anything!’ The mother’s voice was faint among the noisy crowd, through it still managed to pull her son’s attention away from the people surrounding them. He hefted the sack he carried a bit higher onto his back, the edge of his cloak becoming ensnared in the folds of the burden. A stranger brushed him a bit too close for comfort, he thought, and he turned quickly to snatch the item that had been deftly removed from his load. The older man frowned in surprise at the boy’s reflexes, then shrugged and handed the item over, only to disappear into the crowd moments later. The boy shook his head and tucked the small dice bag under his arm, focusing again on trying to keep up with his mother.

He caught sight of her auburn hair moving swiftly through the people a few paces ahead of him. By the time she turned around he was at her side again, now much more intent on remaining at her heels at all times. She smiled and they continued their trek, the large tower near the center of the city looming larger every moment. The citadel marked the location of a grand event that took place every year; old and young joined together from far and near to watch performers of all types dazzle them with their talents. It was a time of great joy that extended to all people, though this year something was different in the hearts of the mother and son as they neared the structure.

‘Oh good, you made it.’ The familiar soft voice made them both turn in anticipation. The young boy looked up into the face of his father, glad that the three of them were together again. His father exchanged a brief hug and kiss with his wife, then relieved the boy of his load and led the way through the group of people toward the tower. The three of them traveled a short while longer before arriving at their destination, and soon they were passing through the doors leading into the grand hall.

Most of the city, along with many travelers, had gathered to enjoy the festivities, and the room literally buzzed with energy as the voices of thousands filled the domed chamber. The floor was made of a thick dark wood, and the walls of smooth light stone; ornate arrangements of colored glass stood several stories high and filled the building with the glow of the afternoon sun. Massive wooden beams ran from floor to ceiling, their mighty frames arching higher than most men could hurl a stone. It was a beautiful structure, one that had withstood countless storms and raids as hundreds of years passed by.

The trio found vacant seats and made themselves comfortable, eager to view the various acts that would soon cover the large stone floor. As they looked around they noticed many people had brought their entire families with them, it seemed the annual spectacle was enough to draw even the most remote groups together. Children laughed and ran, couples greeted one another warmly, and even infants seemed to take pause from their crying and enjoy the time with family.

As the family of three viewed those around them, they couldn’t help but let their thoughts drift to their remaining kin. The rest of their children were not able to be with them this night; aside from their youngest son the family was spread out over many miles of land, some having been gone much longer than ever before. It was a strange thing to realize around this time of year, the celebration at the citadel had always been a gathering place no matter what separated them in years prior. Though they were proud of the good reports being relayed back to them, the two parents felt a strange void around them despite the room full of people.

Their thoughts were interrupted by the announcement of the procession; a large banner was marched out into the arena as the ceremony began. The three exchanged glances and smiles, then shifted closer to one another as the first round of applause filled the chamber. They were all three filled with excitement for the entertainment to follow, though no act could contend with the joy and anticipation that filled their hearts for their next family meeting!

Regardless of how or why you observe December 25th, this was written for you. While I do speak more pointedly to those that celebrate this day as a commemoration of the birth of Jesus Christ, I gladly extend my thoughts to those that do not. What follows are some of the feelings and convictions I’ve had throughout these last 11 months in regards to the Christmas/winter/holiday season.

First, I feel we must address the entire “season” as a whole. Why do we spread the celebration out over an entire month, when Christ’s birth took place over a much shorter period of time? While the commemoration of something so foundational to Christian belief systems could be expected to extend beyond one day, how did society arrive at a month-long celebration? Not only that, but why then is it limited to one month? Shouldn’t the gratitude and jubilation shown during December echo into the rest of the year? Incidentally, Jesus is not “the reason for the season” because the time frame in this overused phrase typically does not refer to His birth, but rather the entire celebration period throughout December. He is the reason we celebrate that day, not why we limit our thanks to one materialistic month and move on.
Let’s examine the way Christmas is celebrated in modern America. Most institutions plan some kind of celebration, though many match more closely with Saturnalia than Christmas. In fact, aside from fellowship with those around us, we generally don’t sound like we’re celebrating a birthday at all. At times we even remove the name of Christ from His own holiday.
The strange behavior doesn’t end there. Coworkers exchange smiles for the first time, lovers halt their quarrels and enjoy a peaceful meal, and still others find themselves in their annual church service or sitting through endless television specials. How can one day cause us to act so differently? Since we only think and feel “festive” once a year, we are essentially creating our own abnormal reality. It’s no wonder we feel so empty afterward.
It’s not hard to find evidence to support this theory. Our society moves at breakneck speed on a slow day, but during the winter months it moves at a pace beyond reason. It continually proves it’s own weakness by beginning earlier and louder than the year before. Doesn’t anyone see that the reason it starts early is to draw more people in? Why must retailers, radio stations, and relatives go to such lengths to excite us? Are we so desensitized to genuine expressions of love that we have to be ensnared by new marketing schemes each year?
Maybe we should consider why we do things more carefully before we do them, take a moment and really look deep to see what our true motives are. I believe stress is an incredible distortion of the feelings we should be experiencing on Christmas, and even more so a great distraction from the values and mindsets that should be our main focus. From family newsletters to holiday portraits and baked goods to block parties, we see an incredible pressure to be properly presented masking the intent and heart behind the expression. It so easily becomes a show, something of a performance by which to compare one to another; ironically it happens most during a time that originated with the lowering of something far greater than us.
What do you suppose the very first Christmas was like? How many of the amenities and comfort zones existed, were all the little details taken care of, and what were the key elements that warranted celebration? There were no gifts given to the newborn Savior, those present were a handful of humble shepherds and His family. What happened that first night clearly painted a picture for how we are to view the essential pieces of Christmas. Togetherness, thankfulness, trust, and humility were the true reason for their celebration. Why can we not imitate this today, and for what reason must we dress everything up?
Next in line is everyone’s favorite subject: presents! This is unavoidable in a Christmas discussion, though I’m not going to suggest halting any exchange of gifts as some would. On the contrary, it’s not wrong to have tradition or give gifts, just please stop doing it in the name of Jesus! Confused? Read on.
Why do we feel the need to give gifts to one another on Christmas? There are many ways this could have started, though most churches will give you one of several popular reasons why it occurs: imitation of the arrival of “wise men” bearing gold, frankincense, and myrrh; or because God gave us His ultimate gift and we reciprocate out of appreciation. Neither of these are bad reasons for giving something to someone, though both are flawed in execution. The first doesn’t work because the magi didn’t arrive until nearly two years after the birth of Christ, so it wouldn’t make sense for us to exchange items at the time of His arrival. The second reason comes up short because we’re still using physical items to depict an immaterial gift, and that’s a dangerous line to walk.
By the way, it’s important to note that things, stuff, items, and gifts cannot be bad in themselves. Nonliving material has no ability to be right or wrong, neither can it be good or evil. Therefore the only way anything stands for what it should not is through misuse on our part. There are many ways we can do this, both by being selfish with the items themselves or pursuing them beyond responsible means. Debt is one of the key players in the holiday season; the stores are banking on the fact that you can’t pay for what you want to buy, and many shoppers plan to exceed their limitations due to the importance placed on the acquisition of stuff. Really, how can we do more injustice to a day of giving than by acting this way?
Regardless of the value or intention of material possessions, they will always be limited to just that: physical items. Representations of emotions or feelings, “showing how much we care” as some ads might profess. Is our mindset truly to bless the recipient, or to fulfill a duty set on us by tradition? Since the items themselves cannot express anything, why must we use them to mimic Christ’s love when He was so much more? I think if one were to imitate such a profound gift, they would want to use something that would last longer than any material item. Why is so much emphasis put on things that will rust away, is that really all there is supporting our convictions?
Please understand, I am in no way attempting to downplay the importance of gift giving or using physical objects to express our genuineness in gratitude. One of my favorite things to do is give things to people, though I still feel that intangible gifts go further than tangible ones. It is with that heart I propose we not eliminate the material, but we instead raise the value of the immaterial.
Consider alternate methods of expression for blessing someone you care for. Instead of purchasing gifts for each person, if you do buy things why not get something everyone can enjoy? Rather than wonder what you can purchase, how about making something with your own hands? If creativity isn’t your biggest strength, you can always find something to do that will be a blessing to someone. Give of yourself instead of your pocketbook; immaterial expressions travel further in life because they don’t rust or decay.
Lastly, we need to consider what we are doing that will bless more than our family members or close friends. I encourage you to spend time with people close to you, but also to be creative in how you can demonstrate that affection to others. Focus on togetherness and being thankful for those around you, looking past the noise and glitter that ostracizes selflessness. One of our most prized possessions is our time; since we all know this to be true, sacrificing your time to better others will say a lot to those around you. (These should be priorities for us every day not just around the “holiday” season, though this time of year tends to bring such attitudes to the forefront so it’s a good time to re-establish those commitments.)
What can you do that will demonstrate a grateful heart for what you’ve been given? We all have things we were blessed with, so what are we going to do in order to bless those around us? How can we honor the original Christmas gift, and what are we giving back to Him this year?

Moving to the rail, I gazed out over the water and paused to consider the sheer scale of my surroundings. It wasn’t every day one had time to think of such things, the duties of everyday life often a louder chorus than the still silent voice I now listened to. I allowed myself a moments pause while coming to terms with how stranded I truly was. Often times events on the ship obscured our short-sighted understandings of our situation – many times we don’t stop to consider how far away from our comfort zones we really are, though we may be satisfied with the view anyway. As long as we have people we can talk to, tasks we can perform, and goals we can achieve, it doesn’t seem to matter where we are in the larger scheme of things sometimes. Moments like that scare me, for complacency can set in like a deadly plague and wipe out our dreams before we sleep!

My thoughts were interrupted by the sight of a small island on the horizon. Day after day we had pursued that rock, our hope being to find its internal value intact once we reached the sandy beaches. As I took note of its position, something began to trouble me like rainclouds forming on the edge of my consciousness. My complexion darkened as the memories of previous days rained over me as I stood there. There was something eerily familiar about the position of our destination, as a matter of fact it seemed like we weren’t moving at all! Rubbing my eyes, I checked the position of the sun and peered into the distance, wishing to be proven wrong. After several minutes it hit me – I couldn’t see any sign of us drawing nearer to our goal.

With a sense of urgency for the safety of our futures, I bounded up the stairs and approached the helm where our captain stood. His gaze was firm but unfocused, as though his light-hearted spirit softened the unknown events that occurred each voyage. His steady hands grasped, nay, caressed, the wheel with an unmatched dexterity and kindness he showed to no living soul. It was truly his ship, and he was one with the planks and nails that held it together. At times it seemed his life was bound to the mortality of the vessel…though that story is best saved for another time.

Noting my unspoken concern, he continued to stare past our bow and asked what was troubling me. I explained that the island did not seem to be moving, that our present heading had us at a standstill, or worse that we might be off course. He produced a small compass from his pocket, and after briefly glancing at the spinning dial he assured me that our heading was still correct. How could this be, I wondered aloud, since the very horizon seemed to shift and change with each passing day? What made him so sure that we were still going the right direction, that the wayward needle on his compass wasn’t playing tricks on us?

He finally broke his gaze with his unseen target in the distance and turned to face me. The face that had seen so much pain, suffering, and betrayal now brightened slightly. With a casual tone and half-cocked smile, he knowingly stated:

"Maybe you’re calculating the wrong angles, mate. Did you ever wonder if the island might be moving too?"

When considering the question: “Why do you write?” one must begin by examining his or her style long before motive. For example, if you were to ask a fiction novelist and then compare their answers to those of a journalist, you might find some interesting differences. The very medium with which they express themselves says something about their motives. One purposes for deep conversations and vast adventures with their readers, the other perhaps finds security in knowing an audience will use their words to formulate opinions and discussion topics in everyday situations. Two different styles, two different writers, two different motives.

Yet still, there are common elements that bind all writers beyond what limitations form and style can impose. Structure is important for any writer, it helps keep their thoughts in check and enforce logical progression in their work. For this reason I believe that style is an important issue to address, but cannot be the overruling factor in determining why a writer does what they do. I do know, however, that my own styles have changed several times over the years – beginning with early childhood letters and stories, traveling through the experimental stages of poetry and research, followed by a mixture of prose and long-form expulsion – though this may also be due to my altered interests and passions as the years flew by.

Motives can be difficult to narrow down from one moment to the next, even more so over the course of a writer’s history. In efforts to encapsulate my own reasons for writing, I could only deduce that seasons and changes over time directly influenced my deeper reasoning for putting words on a page. I imagine this is true with most writers, for it is natural to write what you are passionate about or that which spurs you onward. As I look back over research papers, poetry, narrative, and other areas I dabbled in I found this to be true. Truly inner motives and struggles did impact my reasons for the structure I chose at the time; as with many of my other interests it swayed back and forth with a certain eclectic yet purposeful swagger.

Having discovered a style and motive, the third area to be examined must be the purpose or end goal of a written work. To merely tell stories or amuse others seems a worthy end, though I would always wish that my time was spent on something making more of a difference than that. I believe the end goal in a writer’s efforts is reflected by their choice of style, and confirmed through their motives. The adage: “You can’t have one without the other.” seems to fit here, purpose being indicative of how they would like their work to affect the world around them. Beyond this, I have found that writing is also a source of peace; a way to exorcise the inner demons or pieces of our souls that we would not wish others to see. Sometimes even the most vile or controversial stances can be portrayed in our writing, a comfort known by anyone who has emptied their thoughts onto a page instead of allowing it to spew forth onto someone else. Surely this can be included in the definition of purpose, as it helps the writer themselves just as much, if not more, than their readers.

Throughout history writing was the single method for conveying truths, beliefs, troubles, and other lessons of life that transcended language barriers. Even time itself cannot destroy or eradicate memorable texts scrawled by writers of old; there exists a strange immunity making this seem criminal or outright impossible. Many factions or leaders in history have attempted to stamp out literature because of the thought processes it awakens. While many have succeeded in part, none could ever erase the presence or impact of written works entirely.

Writing is much more than just the recording of important dates, times, and events; it is a means for transferring information and culture to others that may have otherwise been beyond the reach of the writer. Once a word is on a page, decisions or rituals that form the building blocks to entire cultures can be passed on and replicated for all time. Though entire nations can be swept away in the blink of an eye, words and messages echo from beyond the grave influencing others to solve mysteries vexing untold generations prior.

In many ways, the greatest enemy a writer faces is his or her own mind, and perhaps the most profound obstacle any writer can face is a dry or empty time in their work. I believe inspiration never ceases, regardless of our ability to interpret or decipher the strange ways of our subconscious; this means of course that the symptoms commonly referred to as “writer’s block” exist only within ourselves, and cannot be attributed to something beyond our sphere of responsibility. Why it occurs or to what pattern it subscribes is a topic many writers have attempted to tackle since writing began, yet still there is a clear silence that exists within the mind of any linguist or literary practitioner. Silence is dangerous, paralyzing, and demoralizing to even the most successful writers in history; when it looms on the horizon each individual is faced with a unique decision.

Just as the reaction to any struggle bears greater weight than the hindrance itself, so does the response to a season of less action in a writer’s work. The complete lack of drive or progress felt during these times are unimportant when paralleled with the alternatives. One must decide to either write, or not. Sometimes the simplest of tasks can awaken the inner passions and stoke the fires that burn through their fingertips, but even simple things require movement. Regardless of any deterrence, no matter the height or width of the vast unknown, it is absolutely crucial for the pursuit of their craft to continue. Victory only occurs when the writer traverses great mountains or deep valleys to reach their point of focus again; to abandon the journey at any time is not only a step in the wrong direction, but a leap away from it altogether.

Suppose, for a moment, that one were to pull back from that which made them whole. For many the writing process completes them and fleshes out the battles that wage deep within their minds. Some would call it an escape, others a curse, and some still a cure to that which ails the soul and clouds the mind. I subscribe to all of these definitions, and feel the strain of this inner struggle on a daily basis just as many do. To draw back from writing would be akin to discarding a crucial portion of my life; not something I could do willingly or even purposefully and retain a clear conscience.

Although these reasons roll off the tongue easily, the true gravity of the situation becomes apparent as one ceases to write. Our brain is a magnificent creation, a device beyond all plausible recognition or comprehension with near-limitless capabilities. Something so infinitely complex must be exercised and given opportunities to release everything it formulates, lest it atrophy and become harder to draw information from. Not only are we limiting our potential by not writing, we are actually damaging our ability to interpret the hints and signals or brain uses communicate critical messages to us. One might even suggest that the very essence of creativity becomes stifled when we ignore our impulse to record what our brain is conveying!

For these reasons and so many more, I have found a better question exists than that which George Orwell’s work prompted. I ask myself, all too often, not why I write; rather what possible force or emotion would ever allow me not to. And so laying down any astute or abashed ulterior sense of purpose, I must ask that you consider the same question: “Why DON’T I write?”

As the evening drew on, the topics ranged from enjoyable experiences to tales of struggle or woe. Perhaps this was what the young man enjoyed most about his friends; there was never an effort to disguise or mask what was really going on in their lives. It was an honest and real assessment, one that could be trusted above testimonies or bad reports elsewhere. Selflessness is not a simple request, nor should it be taken advantage of when offered freely.

One of the family members sitting at the small table rose from their perch and began to stack dishes into her arms. Seeing that there were too many for the female to manage, the young man moved to the nearest pile of plates and began to collect them as well. The girl smiled at him in approval, then headed toward the small kitchen area at the end of the room. Once the male had gathered the remaining pieces, he walked over and began stacking the dishes near where the girl stood; her arms now half-covered in soapy water as she repeatedly plunged them into the sink.

They stood there doing dishes for several moments, still listening to the comments made near the table. The man wiped his hands and moved to a chair; one of the older boys had an instrument in his hands and was attempting a strange dance he had seen in his travels. He shuffled around making up words to his tuneless song, though the rest of the family wondered if the awkward movements were slightly exaggerated. Nonetheless, the entire room was soon filled with laughter once again, the spectacle much too embarrassing to ignore.

The young man smiled and laughed with them the whole time; while a casual observer would find this normal, another family member saw his expression jubilant one moment and somber the next. It was often this way with him, she noted, his quiet appraisal and enjoyment set carefully behind a protective layer all around him. While everyone deserved to keep their thoughts to themselves, she couldn’t help but wonder if he held back for their benefit instead of his own. She could only guess what was on his mind, pieces of conversations prior running through her head as he had carefully explained struggles back home.

It was a time of indecision and turmoil that plagued him, confidence weakened through the methodic removal of his passions. One week the target would be his wares, others his friendships, or even still his very opinions; each attack seeming to rob him of precious motivation and desire. Regardless of where he lay his head, shadows fell on his heart and eclipsed his day-to-day activities; much like a dark cloud relentlessly pursues a sunny meadow. Perhaps his outlook was changing without justification, or perhaps not. His desire for purpose and pure motivation was still there, so she hoped that the troubles had not robbed him of that which he cared most for.

Her thoughts were interrupted as another member of their party entered the room. The woman smiled and waved as she entered, her studious attire draped over her arm in exchange for the more comfortable garb she now wore. Each member of the group greeted her in turn, several of them rising to offer a hug or more personal greeting. The young man smiled warmly from his place near the back of the room, and he saw her composure change slightly as the she made her way over to the sink. Both girls exchanged friendly greetings and were quickly discussing the events of the last few days; the young man smiled again, always knowing that the two would become better friends as time went on.

He turned his head and caught the gaze of the younger female at the table, her face showing that she had been watching the interaction as he had. His face scrunched slightly, twisting into a wry grin seconds later that made her smile back at him. They turned their attentions back to the group, laughter again breaking through any amount of pondering that would be done that night. As the evening drew on, the light seemed to grow steadily brighter in that little room, the cares and concerns of elsewhere drowned out in the warmth of time spent with family.

* * *

The young man awoke, instantly aware that he was no longer in the company of his family. The cool air quickly found its way to the perspiration that had built up on his skin, and he lay there shivering for a few moments as he was pulled impassively from his slumber. He rose and exited his tent, being careful not to alert the watchful senses of his friend sitting on a rock at the edge of camp. After walking a short distance from the group of tents, the young man slowed his steps and began to let his mind wander. He wanted to head back and talk with his friends, to awaken them at once and hear their voices, but he knew that it would do no good if he did. It always helped to speak with them even when the discussions turned somber – some of their closest moments had been while fighting alongside one another through hard times – but this was a matter he could not bring before any of them yet.

He slowly sank to the ground, the reality of the distance and separation he felt from them no longer held back by his dreams. Tilting his head back, he stared into the vast nothingness filled with stars above him. Could the tiny points of light listen, he would have asked their opinions of him; whether they thought he was being too attached to those he longed for, or why he sometimes wished he could have changed things as years knowing them had passed. He was tempted to voice his questions out loud, though the futility stopped him before he could begin. A few small tears splashed noiselessly into the grass around him, the moisture from his body mixing with the dew that had gathered while he slept.

For what seemed like hours the young man sat silently on that hill, the shadows cast by his slender frame barely moving as time itself drew breath while he thought. His only option was to continue, he mused, the still quiet voice in the back of his head urging him to make the most of the time he had before him. Brushing his cheek and standing once more, the young man took one last look at the sky and sighed heavily. Fatigue had caught up with him at last, his mind subdued by the release memories served. The moments would return in his dreams, of that he was certain, but perhaps tonight he would be able to rest in peace.

He moved quietly back to camp, glancing at his friend one last time before crawling into his tent. He shed his outer cloak and pulled the covers over his slender frame, shivering slightly from the cool night air. Another day had already begun, but the walk had helped and perhaps a few hours would allow him to slow his racing mind a little bit longer…

Reluctantly, he sighed and reached for the widget that had caused him so much trouble that evening.  The worst part about not being able to fix something is knowing that the answer exists, that the problem is simply a misaligned combination of parts that make the piece what it is.  Problems and struggles qualify existence – they make you remember you are alive and force you to examine your processes to solve them.  He was usually quite good at approaching these things, taking multiple routes from various lines of thought to appreciate the issue, however his efforts seemed to only look back at him and mock his feeble attempts.  Much like the widget that now sat in his hands once again.

The young man sighed and reached for a wrench on his table.  As he prepared to remove the outer shell on his creation, he felt the piece shudder in his hand.  He stopped and stared at the object, wondering if what he had just felt truly occurred.  After a moment he attributed the motion to his shaking hands and brought the tool near the object once more.  Again he felt the piece quiver, this time so noticeably that he leapt from his seat and flung the object across the room again.  The invention landed among the scattered shirts and sweatpants, it’s motionless form taunting the young man who stood staring at it in disbelief.

"Not good, already hallucinating." thought the man, beads of nervous sweat forming on his forehead.  It was silly of course, that the item he cobbled together from scratch could move without him allowing it to.  His logic began to shift from whether or not it were possible, to finding reason for how it might have occurred with the lack of moving parts he had assembled up to that point.  Shaking his head to clear the late-night fogginess, he slowly approached the pile of clothing to retrieve his creation.  He didn’t see it on the top of the pile, and thinking it may have rolled off he pulled the first few items from the top of the stack and tossed them into another part of the room.  Still not seeing the widget made him frustrated all the more, so he began to tear through the pile until nothing but the smooth wooden floor remained at his feet.  "Great, first I was seeing things, now I can’t find what I didn’t see in the first place!" he exclaimed, the long hours of his work taking toll on his patience and restraint.  The sense of loss he initially felt turned to loneliness – he had such great hopes for that widget, the things they would have accomplished together a fading notion in the corner of his mind.  Perhaps it was the fatigue, he mused, maybe he was taking it too personally.

As he considered pausing for the night and searching later, he head a faint scratching noise behind him.  He whirled around, not sure what he expected to see in the vacant room.  There, on his desk, sat the item he had been working on.  It seemed to be in the same state as when he last touched it, nothing had moved or been altered.  He wasn’t sure how to respond, so he stood in place for a moment considering the events of the evening.  Did he actually throw the widget or had he imagined it?  The scattered clothing made him believe he really had been looking for it, so he must have thrown it before that.  If that were true, however, why was it sitting on his desk?

"Hello?" he whispered, unsure how to address the item he crafted.  He wasn’t even sure it could respond – at least not with the pieces he had used to make it.  If that were the case, however, could it even hear him talking?  And how did it manage to move back to the table?  It made sense to him that if it possessed one of these abilities it would have multiple ones, though the very idea of his creation doing something other than what he planned was still a bit hard to grasp anyway.

His thoughts were interrupted by the widget slowly rolling toward the front of the table.  The man’s eyes widened and he stepped back several feet, quite certain that he was indeed not dreaming this time.  The small piece of equipment reached the end of the table, paused for a moment, then spun in a circle and held still.  Perplexed, the man tilted his head slightly and looked around the room, certain that he was the target of some cruel joke.  As his eyes landed on the widget once more, he swallowed nervously and took a step forward.  His creation stayed in place this time, so he continued walking until he was within arm’s reach of the object.  "What, eh, how did you…" his words trailed off as the widget rolled backwards slowly, as though the movement would answer the question the man posed.  The man cautiously maneuvered into his chair, taking care not to let the item out of his sight.

He sat there for several moments, staring blankly at the widget while his mind searched for possible explanations.  There simply was no good theory for how this had come about – shaking his head yet again he extended his hand towards his creation, the reality of the phenomenon finally sinking in.  The object shifted slightly as his fingers ran over the protective casing, but after a brief hesitation it moved against the palm of its master’s hand and held still.  Understanding the object’s intentions, the man grasped the item and lifted it off of the surface, holding it out in front of him.  For several minutes he stared at the motionless form, then his brow wrinkled in a confused look as it twitched slightly in his hand.  "What do you want me to do?" he asked, unsure how the widget would answer but certain it would try.  Sure enough, the object rolled around the edge of his hand, gradually picking up speed.  Just when the man thought it would fly off, it halted suddenly and spun in a circle.  The man interpreted this movement as playful, so he gently tossed the widget into the air and caught it again.  This made it all the more excited, and it began to spin around his hand once more.

The man set his invention down onto the table and watched it race back and forth.  A sort of childlike innocence was reflected in the object, and he wondered if it knew he was its maker – he smiled slightly at the thought.  "What am I supposed to do with you, I didn’t make you with this purpose in mind."  Just as he said those words the widget stopped moving, as though it had been stung by his words.  It rolled over to him slowly, coming to a halt inches from the edge of the surface.  "Well," said the man, unsure what to say next "I didn’t mean you should stop rolling around, just that it was not my intention for you."  This seemed to upset the object even more, for it backed away from the man quickly and rolled sideways into one of his tools, knocking it from the table.  The man was puzzled at first, but the less he said or did with made the object become more violent.  It smashed into various objects on his table, knocking over half-full glasses of water and pushing books into their remains.

"Stop it, you’re ruining my work!" the man exclaimed, reaching for a book that was quickly becoming soaked by the mess.  The object whirled and slammed into his hand, then continued to race around the table once more.  As pain shot through his fingers the man jumped back from the table, his chair clattering to the floor behind him.  He stood watching in a stupor, again unsure how to handle the situation.  Finally he decided that he must stop the object before it destroyed everything in the room, so he reached for one of his sweaters on the floor and threw it over the table.  This made the widget move much faster as it attempted to locate an escape from the trap.  The man decided drastic measures must be taken.  He picked up the wooden chair from the floor and slammed it into the table, the sound of splintering wood and crunching metal filling the small room.

Several moments passed as the man stood holding part of his chair, he studied the motionless lump under his sweater and made sure it would not move again.  He sighed heavily and dropped what was left of his chair onto the floor, then carefully lifted the sweater and surveyed the damage.  Pieces of his creation were scattered all over the surface, smashed and bent parts littering his former workspace.  The man shook his head and leaned heavily on the table, stress and fatigue combining to form a sense of profound loss at the destruction of his project.  With great effort he tore himself from the scene and slumped towards this bed.  Another day would come, and he’d have another idea to work on soon, but for now all he wanted to do was sleep.

A few children began to divert from the path and let their curiosity take over, so the female called out and instructed them to return to their friends. They reluctantly obeyed, the mysteries of the forest a strong opponent to the guidance of their caretaker. She shook her head at the last straggler and made sure he returned to the path – oh how there were days when her patience was threatened! It was especially hard when she was the only one to watch over them, as the group that she belonged to had varied in size as of late. While she understood that there came a time for everyone to move on, she couldn’t bear to leave the group of "her" kids she had grown so fond of. Merely thinking those thoughts seemed to awaken the young child in her arms, he yawned and reached up to put his small arms around her neck and set his head on her shoulder. He smiled having reached his place of peace, and in that moment she remembered why she chose to do these things day after day.

Shouts of glee pulled her from such thoughts and she looked up the path to see what the excitement was. Finally they had reached the end of the forest road, and the children were now running and leaping in the thick grass as they raced out of the trees. The girl smiled as the first rays of afternoon sun fell on her arms, the warmth causing a slight shiver as the cool forest air evaporated around her. This was a day she looked forward to every week, when the children returned to their village and she could see the rolling hills surrounding it. She paused to take in the beautiful landscape before continuing down the hill – this vantage point was especially nice in the afternoon, as the sun caused harsh reflections on the stream running past the town to dance along the bridge that crossed it. Though at the rate the kids were running she knew she couldn’t afford to stand there very long, and continued down the hill toward the town.

As if on cue, the energetic group reached the bridge and held short, knowing they were not to move across it without their leader. A few examined the small animals that scampered away from their procession, while others pointed at the small clouds dotting the blue sky. After waiting for what seemed like an eternity to their tiny hearts, their leader approached and instructed them to carefully cross the bridge together. The water was not deep, but the reflections on the wood provided enough temptation for any child to stop and lean out past the railing. Eventually everyone made it across and headed towards the town with renewed enthusiasm, their carefree exclamations alerting the inhabitants of their coming long before they could see them.

Standing just inside the city entrance, a young girl with dark hair turned at the sound. She waved to the approaching group and smiled at her friend that watched over them. The two walked side-by-side after making sure that the children were all present, some already anxious to rush home and sleep in their own beds. As they walked to the center of the village the younger girl sang a familiar song to the group, one that they looked forward to hearing at the end of each week. Her voice seemed to join with the birds in a melody that ushered the children into silence for the first time that day:

"Welcome home, dear children, to the place of rest,
You traveled far to be here, for you know that it is best,

One day soon we’ll meet again, in such a time as this,
We’ll laugh, run, shout and play, turning worry amiss,

Say goodnight to your leader, then go lie down your head,
Welcome home, dear children, until we meet again."

The kids gathered around the girls and offered their individual expressions of thanks, then rushed to the awaiting arms of their parents who had gathered nearby. The adults thanked the eldest of the group for keeping their young ones safe, and as they returned to their homes she couldn’t help feeling a mixture of relief and anticipation at the thought of watching over them again.

Her younger companion reached for a bow and arrow on the ground next to her cloak, so she picked up the set of daggers and gauntlets from her home. The two took a moment to adjust their equipment and miscellaneous items of lore before heading back to the bridge. A horse and cart came to a stop near the water, white armor shining brilliantly from the driver’s seat. As the horse drank from the stream, the rider saw the two girls walking out of the village and beckoned them to climb aboard. The three sisters embraced one another and started their ride toward the rest of their party. They had long since decided upon a meeting place where their brother would accompany them to the camp where the rest of their friends waited. A fresh wave of energy washed over them at the thought of seeing everyone again, and they began to exchange stories with one another as they rode into the sunset…

The silence was broken by heavy footsteps approaching, and through the water’s spray the black-clad figure detected a wild animal nearing his position. The fighter had been sitting perfectly still under the cascading water for hours, and was certain that the creature hadn’t noticed him, but was still tempted to open his eyes and carefully monitor the situation. He heard the beast move forward and take a few steps into the shallow edge of the pool, it’s hoofs squishing into the mud trying to support it’s weight. Barely moving a muscle, the young man allowed himself a short breath to calm his pulse and quiet his racing thoughts. The creature sniffed the air and leaned toward the water, intent on discovering why its instinct determined there was something behind the liquid curtain. The fighter could smell the scent of fresh blood on the creature, and as it’s hot breath drew closer it caused the water to splatter on the rock next to him.

Suddenly the man lept to his feet, startling the creature. It roared at it’s unseen adversary and attempted to push past the falling water into the small cave. The mud had made maneuvering difficult, however, so when the human vaulted over it’s back and onto the shore the creature could only swing at him with a sharp horn. It turned and barreled into the night after the man, who had begun racing through the brush as soon as his feet touched solid ground. He ducked in and out of cover, using the terrain and fallen trees to gain an advantage over the bigger and faster being. No sooner had he ducked under an old log did he hear it turn to splinters behind him, so he focused all his energy on reaching the large clearing ahead.

The animal raged behind him as they both reached the edge of the woods – glancing up the man saw a firm branch that would be his saving grace coming into sight. He sprinted across the last stretch of open ground, it shook beneath him as he took one, two, then three steps up the thick tree trunk and pushed off toward the high perch. Realizing his prey was escaping, the animal jumped as well and took another swing with his sharp horns at the airborne human. The fighter’s aim was true, however, and the horn fell short of it’s mark as he pulled himself up onto the branch. He looked down and locked eyes with the creature, determined to stare at it until it walked away. The creature responded by roaring once more, than stomping the ground and running off into the woods.

"Well, that went well." thought the man, as he sat down to enjoy the cool night air. He rubbed his sore shoulder, the climb had stressed a few muscles he’d injured days before practicing aerial maneuvers. It had been a while since the fighter had trained this hard – pushing himself to stay up for days at a time in pursuit of quicker reflexes and finer focus in his various styles. The wet black clothing he wore was covered in pieces of dirt and grass, further evidence of his tireless efforts since he last paused to clean up. Part of the fun in training outdoors was getting dirty though, and he felt as if there should be no difference between raining down a fury of blows on rocks and trees instead of a practice dummy back home.

Solitude was a funny thing, it made you remember all that you had when others were around, yet provided an opportunity to do things your own way and take a break from the rest of the world. There were times when thoughts seemed louder, colors were brighter, and problems were easier to approach when the noise died down. At the same time it was always easier to have others around you for support, and those times were invaluable as life tossed a series of obstacles in the way of a clear path. Sometimes you just needed to get away though, and the resounding clarity that came with silence echoed into the loudest times of his life.

After sitting for a few minutes to allow his breathing to slow, he stood up and eyed the ground a few feet around the tree. His best bet was to leap, he figured, and was determined to get a few more exercises in before heading home the next morning. It was the perfect night to train after all – one when nothing could get in the way or disrupt him now that the animal was gone!

The grass parted slightly as a pair of sandaled feet crept past. Moments later it was still again, as if nature itself was unaware of the warrior’s passing. His legs had carried him at a crouch for the last mile, yet held firm during the final few hundred yards to the edge of the clearing. After slowing to a stop he lowered himself to his knees, the torn edges of his shorts soaking up the moisture around him. His breathing slowed and he was forced to check on his companions by turning his head, for their approach was silent just as his was. Perhaps the only sound in the entire valley was that of the snoring men they observed through the bushes.

Everyone in the camp was sprawled out, their understanding of logical camp arrangement rivaling that of a rock slide. Bodies and cloaks lie in tangled indiscernible heaps strewn about the rough clearing where they had stopped for the night. A variety of weapons forced their unseen adversaries to take note, though with the ease in which they had dispatched the sleeping watchmen, it seemed unlikely they would encounter much resistance. This horde of barbarians had been traveling and pillaging for some time now, the very utterance of their approach causing villagers to run in fear.

"No longer will you haunt these plains." Thought the warrior, his grip tightening on his spear in anticipation. Leather straps dug into his hand as he pulled the shield he bore on his left arm closer to his body. It was heavy, a solid piece of equipment that saved his life on many occasions. His helmet was stifling, the metal wrapping around his face enclosing the hot air, but it made him focus on the task at hand. A low whistle from his companions echoed through their ranks. No visual cue was needed, it was time to do what they were born and raised for.

As a single unit the warriors rose and rushed into the camp, their footsteps no longer silent or cautious. The first barbarian to notice the ambush didn’t have time to raise the alarm before a spear entered his body and was gone a moment later. He crumpled to the ground as the shadows of the rushing warriors passed over him. Soon a few of the sleeping men awoke, and the camp became astir in a flurry of activity. Some had time to scramble for their weapons, while others barely opened their eyes one last time before they fell shut forever.

The warrior saw an enemy raise a weapon off to his right, and spun just in time to feel several arrows embed themselves firmly into his shield. Completing his turn, the heavy shield found its mark on a passing soldier and flung the fleeing man to the ground. He lifted his long spear and hurled it at his long-range assailant, the staff flying fast and true with enough momentum to knock the man over. Grinning, he pulled out his sword and charged back into the thickest part of the battle.

What the barbarians thought to be a temporary resting ground soon became a permanent one, their safe haven no longer anything more than a graveyard. Not a single warrior joined the fallen group on the dirt, and as they checked each other over only a few minor injuries had been suffered in the fight. As they began to search the camp for survivors, the warrior removed his helmet and shook the sweat out of his hair. The morning sun had risen only to eye-level since their onslaught began, a sure sign that things had gone smoothly. He retrieved his spear and swept it downward across his shield, snapping off the arrows and leaving sharp broken pieces of wood sticking out. He shrugged and considered leaving them there – they could come in handy for close-range combat.

Spoils from the barbarian raids covered the camp, pieces of torn clothing or bits of valuable metal cluttering their sacks. It was up to each raider what he found valuable, be it the sparkle of a jewel or the fading light of a former resident in the towns they attacked. The thought made the warrior clench his jaw and look away – as he did his eye caught the glint of a familiar object buried in the blood-soaked coat of a fallen barbarian. He knelt down and pulled the chain off of the man’s neck, his hand shaking for the first time that day. It was a family crest, one that was unmistakable among the town he came from. His eyes glazed over at the thought, but he couldn’t push it away – those in his village must have fled quickly when the barbarians attacked, for such a crest would not fall idly from the neck of one who bore it.

The warrior raised his spear and drove it through the fallen man, vowing to travel with the others until he knew his friends were safe. He closed his hand tightly around the amulet and stared into the morning sun. They would not remain alone. Wherever they were, he would find them in time.

When life kicks me and I don’t know what to do,
I reach for my CD player and turn up the tune,

Soon my problems are gone and my thoughts are clear,
After listening to the music I needed to hear,

I don’t need a doctor or talks with my kin,
Because music is simply the best medicine.

You see I like to write things every now and again,
Instead of voicing me thoughts I write them down with my pen,

Sometimes people won’t give me the time of day,
And I’ve found I can speak whenever in this way,

No one can argue or offer up a rebuke,
With questions at zero and comments at few,

To think my thoughts out is what this is about,
So I can see how they sound before they come out,

It helps me only speak what I know that I should,
Because as they say “a closed mouth gathers no foot”.

Purity can be symbolized with a number of things,
Some people use bracelets, others pennants or rings,

However something I think most people today miss,
Amongst all the jewelry and gift-giving bliss,

Is that true Christian purity is not defined with great art,
Rather purity is the condition of your head and your heart,

Now don’t get me wrong – it’s not the symbols I mind,
It’s when people wear it without stopping to think why,

If it’s merely a pass that let’s you hold hands,
But saying all the while, “Oh, we’re just friends”,

Than I’d say that you’ve missed it and need to step back and look,
Maybe set aside part of your time to read the Lord’s book,

I would suggest reading 1st Timothy, Chapter 5 and Verse 2,
Where our Lord Jesus says to us, “Keep thyself pure”,

I ask only that you use caution while on your journey to be pure,
And I hope that your partner also understands for sure,

The true meaning of purity, and what it’s about,
Because most every person thinks they have figured it out,

We need to be careful in this day and age,
Because giving others tokens can be taken many ways,

For some it’s enough to been given something pretty,
And for yet some others, it’s simply a symbol of purity.

The people all enter in their clamorous ways,
Some pausing to stare, others still in a daze,

After a noisy discourse they all take their seat,
Their talking continues, though it never did cease,

Not long thereafter my services are required,
Politely I answer like a pawn to their desire,

Shaken, swirled, and all but hastily thrown,
My destinations random, choices not of my own,

Around the room I spin, my insides distraught,
Never treated with grace like the toy I am not,

I am repeatedly drained, my insides sucked out,
Then it all begins again the moment I shout,

When will this end, have my owners no heart,
How can they use and abuse me, a work of fine art,

Time matters not, sleepless nights or early ‘morn,
To them I’m just a tool, my rest would draw scorn,

Even still I go willingly, for it is my purpose to fill,
I just wish they’d be careful so that I do not spill,

To my task I must go, I’d rather be busy than not,
Such a whirlwind adventure, the life of a teapot.

Someone who’s always been there when you’re in a tight position,
Someone who is constantly helping and always ready to listen,

A person who is truly dedicated to his family and friends,
Who sacrifices his own needs in order to please them,

He is constantly in prayer for other’s well being and safety,
And I know that many times his prayers have helped me specifically,

He gives without thinking and without any thought of a return,
And to see others made happy is one of his great internal yearns,

What else can I say – I could go on for days,
How he has helped me and my family in so many ways,

He corrects mistakes gently and with special care,
Yet you understand the reason he was talking to you there,

He’ll be there when you stumble without anger or wrath,
Ready to lend a helping hand and pull you back on the path,

There are so few people in this world I wish I could imitate,
And one of the exclusive ones is with whom this poem associates,

This man is so special, not just in my eyes but in other’s also,
And I know I speak for everyone when I say what I’m about to,

A tried and true man of God, my grandfather is,
And so I salute you – Mr. Charles Kimball Hicks.

Some people find beauty in great music or art,
Others prefer movies, sports cars, or trophys for a start,

But when I think of beauty, I see different things,
I see what God has done with the world that He made,

I see summer flowers – whole fields in full bloom,
And I feel the jolt in my chest when a thunderclap booms,

I see all of my family, my relitives and close friends,
I see all the people I hang out with time and again,

Certain faces and people also leap out at me,
As I recall them from good times and memories,

But the most important of all, and above all the rest,
I thank God for his mercy and all the ways I’ve been blessed,

I thank God for His grace and the wonderful gift of His Son,
And that I’ll be with Him forever once this race has been run,

I’m talking about heaven – the city with streets of gold,
With millions of mansions, and the prophets of old,

Also in heaven, and this is what I know I’ll see,
I’ll see the face of my Father looking and smiling at me,

I’ll fall down on my knees and cry out to the I Am,
I’ll say, “Holy, holy is the one true soverign Lamb”,

“His grace is forever, His love will not run dry”,
“For it is sooner that the north star shall fall from the sky”,

So I thank you dear Lord for giving me eyes to see,
And for being the perfect model of beauty for me.

I ask that during this holiday season,
You focus on the one true reason,

Why we celebrate Christmas the way that we do,
And I hope the real reason is quite clear to you,

In case you were wondering or had a slight doubt,
I just wanted to inform you what all this was about,

You see over 2,000 years ago a baby was born,
He started off so innocent yet took the whole world by storm,

The baby’s name was Jesus – and the world took a knee,
To offer up everything to the Lord of Lords and King of Kings,

This infant that was born was much different than all others,
Such as being birthed by an innocent and pure virgin mother,

Yet he also was quite different due to the power within,
That would be used later in his life to bring sight to blind men,

To make the lame walk and the deaf to hear,
Were just a few of the things he did while he was here,

We celebrate his birth and the forgiveness he would bring,
Which seemed so impossible through such a little thing,

Yet even while he was a baby he was bringing the world hope,
And our father in heaven desires that everyone should know,

So I say with much seasonal spirit and equal validity,
May you have the merriest of Christmases, and focus on the real thing.

People who will listen when you’re feeling down,
Who won’t spread your conversations all over town,

People who you can look straight in the eye,
And talk to them honestly without having to lie,

People that will tell you how you make them feel,
Who can do it without making you seem like a heel,

People that aren’t prideful and refuse to boast,
Even when the spotlight shines on them the most,

People that include you even when you don’t fit,
Who are willing to help you get into the swing of it,

People that are helpful when you trip and fall,
And won’t get on your back when you drop the ball,

People that are willing to take time so you’ll learn,
Who want to see you get better and collect what you earn,

People who understand what you’re really trying to say,
And won’t take offense to it in any sort of way,

People that can be happy with you when you are glad,
And who try to help you move on when you’re feeling sad,

I thank God every day for the people that care,
Those I know I can go to and they will be there,

Let me say once more – and this statement is true,
It’s a real blessing from heaven to have friends like you.

For some it provides an excuse to stay up late,
To join all the people who pack into a small space,

They all chant a countdown as a ball drops down a pole,
And yell in the camera at “all those people back home”,

Or for others it’s a chance to take a sip of fine wine,
To reflect on the past year and recall the good times,

A romantic candlelight dinner at a fancy restaurant,
And at the close of the evening to pop the big question,

Some people do that in the middle of Times Square,
Although I’m not quite sure how you could focus on it there,

Certain people like all the noise and crowds of others like them,
Those who seem to enjoy partying until who knows when,

Yet for some others it’s just another plain day,
Celebrated by dinner and going to bed rather early,

They can’t stand the fuss, formality, or freakiness of people,
They just want to see it all pass by without making a big deal,

To spend an evening in fellowship with family and friends,
Is how I personally prefer to see a year come to an end,

Seeing the firework shows displayed on the TV is fun,
And to do it from our house versus being there is a plus,

It’s almost that moment, that special once-a-year hour,
When we throw out our calendars because their dates have gone sour,

I pray that God blesses you all in the approaching new time,
And I hope that you didn’t fall asleep while reading this rhyme,

No matter the style you use that I’ve listed here,
I would just like to wish everyone a Happy New Year.

I’ll be thinking about you and all that you’ve said,
And a rhyme or a poem will start to form in my head,

It will no doubt involve your grace – possibly your beauty too,
Something special I remember from the last time that I saw you,

I begin to write it out as it continues to grow,
While my eyelids grow heavy – I’m quite tired you know,

I wish that I could sleep and get the rest that I need,
And I know that for certain I’ll be seeing you in my dreams,

You see I think about you a lot, just in case you haven’t noticed,
You’re on my brain during the majority of my waking moments,

I can picture your face and that look that you give me,
And the mear thought of you is purely intoxicating

By this time it’s ten-thirty, eleven, or twelve,
As I sit sorting this through my head as I try to tell,

Did I make a fool of myself – did I offend you in any way,
I sit running through all I said and did with you that day,

Did I make you grin when I entered the room,
Or did I put you off with my behavior towards you,

I’ll run through these things five times, then I’ll do it again,
Because I want to be a kind, concerning and yet fun-loving friend,

I keep thinking about your smile as I see you next to me,
Oh man, here I go again – I just wish that I could sleep.

With nothing to do but read

When my troubles for each day,

Are eyes that no longer see,

Hours spent but never wasted,

Words not bound by lock or key,

Propped up against the shelves,

Whether sitting or on my knees,

I’d pour over countless volumes,

Knowledge seeping into me,

Perhaps one day I’ll travel there,

One page closer to home I’ll be.

After sending the message I powered off my monitors and slowly stood.  I craned my neck to and fro, the dull ache in my back reminding me to sit up straighter next time.  As I moved away from my chair I took stock of my surroundings – this room seemed to be shrinking in size every day.  Lately I’ve spent most of my waking (and sleeping) hours in here, time spent at my desk on projects and work commitments far greater than when I had a “job” I left the house for.  Many days it was as though there were no end in sight to what I worked on, the endless list of changes and tweaks mocking me each time I closed the program.  Still, I know it can only get better after it’s been worse, so I look forward to the day of completion!

I took a few steps and approached my bed, all the while reminding myself that I really needed to clean at first opportunity.  In all fairness I use this space very frequently, but it needs attention just the same.  Sometimes in the wee hours of the morning I find myself wanting to clean everything in sight – almost as though the frustrations of the day will vanish with the dust and trash I eradicate from the flat surfaces in this space.

Looking around, I decided to reach for a pile of papers that desperately needed sorting.  Before my hand could reach it, however, I was overtaken by feelings of futility in my actions.  The hour was early, what could I really accomplish in the time it took me to tire again?  Could I really get anything done without launching a more extensive plan of attack against the forces of evil clutter that ran rampant in my bedroom?  The puzzled look on my face would have been a clear sign to anyone watching that an equally lengthy battle was being waged in my head.  After a few moments I decided the conquest would have to wait, so I changed clothes and pulled back my covers.

I set my alarm and clambered into bed, hoping that the incessant beeping of the annoying device would cause me to stir in a few hours.  Lately my zombie-like schedule has been disrupted by a maddening trend of oversleeping.  This always starts my day on a hard note, as I’d prefer to wake up earlier than needed rather than after my alarm has rung.  Either way it makes me tired, but that wears off once the evening arrives and I can truly wake up.  I wish I could express the torn state this leaves me in – while I am grateful for the time my brain gets to run free, I must confess I miss the insane pull of creativity at the late hours.  My motivation for many things live and die by that pull, and the last week or two has found me stripped of my drive thanks to an overcomplicated project.  It’s like losing contact with an old friend, in a way, you don’t realize how far apart you’ve been until you meet once more.

As I lay there waiting for the darkness to envelop me, I became slightly annoyed that my energy levels had reached a normal state once again.  It was time to switch gears, time for thoughts to trickle in from an uninterrupted source inspired by the events of the day.  Yet for some reason I could not quiet my mind, it just wasn’t time to sleep yet.  I considered the paradox of my situation and was puzzled at the odd likeness to a puppet bound by strings.  It was as though my subconscious had reached out and taken hold, the gou pai to my creative drive held tightly in its grasp.

Suddenly, I smiled.  What caused me to smile at that moment I am uncertain of, but the realization of my state moments later confirmed the emotional response.  It was late, somewhere near 3:00 am, and I not only had energy but was being forced to write most of this from my bed.  I was back.

I looked on, trying to identify what foolish beings would disrupt such a peaceful setting.  Soon I was able to distinguish each as a small white dove, their companionship obvious by the close patterns they flew around one another.  They were beautiful creatures, graceful movements outlined by the almost silent flutter of their wings.  When they flew through one of the sacred rays cast by the sun their fragile bodies seemed to glow, completely oblivious to the interruption they caused to the beams of light shooting through the air.  It was a simple example of two hearts that were free of cares and concerns – I took a seat, careful not to make a sound, and paused to enjoy such a magnificent sight.

As I sat watching the two birds fly around the wooden bridge, part of me took flight and soared around the clearing with them.  My thoughts went to the mystery of how two beautiful creatures were content to exist in such a setting.  Surely they were free to fly anywhere, to leave the area they now occupied, or at the least to cross the bridge and enter into previously unexplored territories.  I found myself envying their lack of restraint, the way they discarded responsibility an unknown feeling for me.  If they only knew of the events that surrounded them, the duties and tasks others performed while they roamed free.  Surely they had to know of these things, and I found myself growing frustrated with each additional understanding.  How could their willful refusal to conform continue, why did they not accept some manner of personal commitment?

All at once, I felt the forest itself closing in on me, the weight of silence binding me firmly to the rock where I sat.  It was almost as though the trees themselves reached out to calm my unjust assumptions.  Perhaps a feeling of freedom was why the two doves flew, their understanding of the blessing they possessed making them lighter than air.  How could one not soar when given the chance?  Could anyone truly refuse a gift once they recognized the shackles that were not placed on their feet?  I felt horrible for having made the notion, and slowly the pressure from the forest around me lessened as I peered back into the clearing.  The two doves had landed on the rail of the bridge, an unspoken agreement between them binding their actions.  They sat near the half-way point on the structure, the ability to cross the obstacle known but not pursued.

I sat and watched for a few more moments, not wanting to leave.  Finally I stood to continue through the forest – the doves watched me closely from the bridge, their blank expressions reflecting nothing of their true initiatives or feelings.  As the darkness from the trees slowly enveloped me, I couldn’t help but wonder if those two doves would ever leave their sanctuary…

CK Hicks
English Composition II
January 8, 2007

Creativity ≠ Originality

There is nothing new under the sun. How is it that we as humans constantly “create” new things, yet still refer back to old ideas, events, and situations that remind us of what we just came up with? When we see a new design, hear a new theory, or view a work of “modern” art, our brains naturally attempt to relate what it perceives to a previous experience. It does this in an attempt to grasp the unknown variables and define the entity based on a system of order that we subconsciously submit to and modify every day.

To better understand and study creativity, one must first know the origin. Creativity, according to the Encyclopedia of Children’s Health, is: “Creativity is the ability to think up and design new inventions, produce works of art, solve problems in new ways, or develop an idea based on an original, novel, or unconventional approach.” (Encyclopedia of Children’s Health) If this is indeed the case, is everyone creative? Yes, of course they are. Every single person on this earth possesses the ability, resources, and potential to be creative in an alarmingly high number of ways, and uses those abilities on a daily basis even without knowing it.

Why do designs we make always have patterns that we can relate to? Why do we pick our “favorite” colors first when creating something? Why does one song remind us of another? These are all examples of our brain wrapping previously experienced events or understandings around itself to use as a stepping stool for a new arrangement of details that are slightly different than the ones it’s used to. There is nothing new under the sun.

So if everything we create comes from what we’ve already experienced, is there really such thing as “creating” something entirely new? Consider the following quotes as current definitions of creativity: “The ability to transcend traditional ideas, rules, patterns, relationships, or the like, and to create meaningful new ideas, forms, methods, interpretations, etc.; originality, progressiveness, or imagination: the need for creativity in modern industry; creativity in the performing arts.” (Dictionary.com Unabridged (v 1.1)) I would like to refute and blend the ways of thinking I’ve quoted thus far, and instead propose a slightly differing definition that is much simpler: “Creativity is a mental alteration and mixture of previously encountered themes, ideas, and experiences.” (CK Hicks)

So in that one can be creative and come up with ideas and concepts that have not been previously expressed to them before, it could also be said that those “new” occurrences are actually the brain’s way of finding (at least) two sources of information and merging specific elements therein to form a unique pattern. There is nothing new under the sun. “Creativity is the ability to see something in a new way, to see and solve problems no one else may know exists, and to engage in mental and physical experiences that are new, unique, or different.” (Encyclopedia of Children’s Health) While I agree that seeing something in a new way is part of the creative process, variation alone cannot stand alone as the action that takes place in the creative process. One must also consider the act of using opposing opinions as creative viewpoints. Even though the idea it opposes is already in place, the act of taking an alternate approach is still variation and therefore creativity being expressed in yet one more form.

Let’s take a look at an example of how the brain could actually be limited to little or no creative expression. Suppose for a moment that you grew up inside a gray box, engaging in absolutely no interaction with anyone or anything else other than the walls around you. If someone were to show you an image of a tree, then ask you to create your own personal variation of the object, your brain would force you to fabricate something extremely similar to the only known reference that it has to go by – the image that was shown to you. While there are seemingly infinite numbers of variations and changes that could be made, you would still be limited to only having one reference and/or experience to that entity to pull from. Therefore, your tree would not have a treehouse in it, the leaves would be green, and it would not be split down the middle after having been struck by lightning.

My main question is this: is it possible that the answer to “creative block” is merely experience? For example, if a writer can’t come up with the ending to a specific scene in his book, does the answer lie in experiencing as many possible variations of similar scenes as possible? This would allow the brain to draw from an exponentially increased number of sources, therefore expanding the possibilities by which it can factor “new” conclusions. “It is only through experience that creativity grows and matures.” (CK Hicks)

On this very note we must also ask if there is such thing as “bad” creativity? Is it possible for the human mind to conceive something that is useless and/or unusable? In my opinion, the answer to this question is no. Dreaming is an excellent example of the brain’s creative “drive” being set free of the cages that we put around it while conscious, and finally being able to use situations, images, emotions, and sounds to convey what is going on within our bodies. So are all dreams, regardless of how strange and impossible they may be, a useless pool of thought processes? No, rather they present us with raw unchecked creative energy that completely submerses us in realms beyond the limits of logical progression. These situations can be incredibly inspiring intuitive insight-initiating instances that we might not otherwise be exposed to outside of dreams.

Throughout the course of history, the human mind has realized an unbelievable amount of information and expressed it however possible. While I still hold to the fact that creativity is variation versus pure originality, the complexity and nearly limitless possibilities make it impossible to summarize or contain. Even this paper, from concept to conclusion, is an example of creative spin put on previous events, experiences, and understandings. There is nothing new under the sun.

The morning sun had risen high enough that the shadows cast by the trees were no longer touching one another, though it had not yet dried up the morning dew on the grass. Inhaling deeply she stepped through the doorframe and entered the center of the structure she called home. The smooth rock path beneath her feet wound through the patches of grass like a lazy serpent stretched out sunning itself. Merely picturing such a large creature made her shake her head and hope the stories of such animals were not true. Anything larger than the dogs and small pets owned by the people nearby did not sit well with the young girl, certainly not anything that could swallow them whole! She laughed at the absurdity and continued walking, passing several small benches and rocks where she had spent many days studying, and many nights staring at the sky.

How could anyone not appreciate what surrounded them? Even the plants themselves seemed to stand straighter on a morning like this, the beauty of life surrounding them too intoxicating to ignore. Being alive, safe, and provided for left much room for the satisfaction of knowing you were okay to fill the day with wonder. So many times she saw people walk by with their heads down, rushing to and fro consumed with the events of the day. If they would only pause long enough to breathe they’d find strength they didn’t know they had. It was as though the entire world around them was screaming for a moment of peace, yet they were too busy to listen.

She approached a small building, and after greeting the guard standing outside, the girl opened the door to the workshop and walked in. Her eyes adjusted and took in the familiar sight of equipment, weapons, and tools from around the world. She walked over to her workbench and slid one of several books aside – probably one she had fallen asleep reading while awaiting letters from her friends. It seemed as though time flew and stood still all at once, one day she missed them very much, and others it was as though they had left yesterday. The important thing was to always remember that they’d see each other again, however, and the thought brought her smile back as she reached for her armor.

It felt light but held strong, and had withstood many fiery arrows since she learned to bear its weight years ago. At first she had trouble moving among the shifting plates, yet with time learned to stand firm in the days when evil waged war against what was good. A red cross marked her shield as a symbol of her faith, and the helmet she wore had been her saving grace several times in the heat of battle. She tucked it under her arm and reached for her sword, the extension of her arm that struck true time and again. All together she was ready for the challenges of a new day, and headed outside to face them.

The sunlight reflecting off her white armor nearly blinded the guard as she passed, though he was still able to point to the horse and cart that were waiting for her at the gate. It still felt a little strange to drive it alone but she had a job to do. Pausing once more to absorb the beautiful morning, she climbed up into the seat, took the reigns into her hands, and began her trek…

After offering his friend a drink, the male scooped some water into his hands and brought it to his mouth, the cool liquid clearing the dust from his throat and waking him up as he splashed the rest on his face. His darker skin didn’t show as well in the moonlight like his friend’s did, but the look of refreshment shone clearly as if it were midday. The younger of the two chuckled at her companion’s simple contentment and gazed skyward – how good it felt to pause and enjoy the night air! The stars shone brightly and the moon had climbed steadily higher as they traveled, clearly illuminating their path and making torches more trouble than they were worth. They had been walking since early that day and were thankful for a constant source of light throughout their trip.

The two friends stood together for several minutes as a soft breeze swirled through the valley. With it came the smell of sweet grasses sprinkled with the early stages of dew that would have appeared by sunrise. Pondering what they had learned, the companions began slowly walking again and stepped through the shallow water at their feet. In a way this was much like what they had done on their trip – work their way across various obstacles in the pursuit of what they felt was the right thing to do. It was never easy to consider leaving the party, and though they were close to everyone they had traveled with for years they knew it was where they were to go.

Why did life have so many differing routes for a small group of friends? Was leaving the land that they had grown up in and defended really necessary? How often would they be able to reunite with those they cared for – when would they see their family again? Many of these questions could be answered quite easily, and either of the two would assure all who inquired why they felt as they did. For them it was not a matter of distance, nor of duty or valor, but rather a calling that came from deep within to boldly go where they had not before. It wasn’t negotiable or brought by a weak sense of direction, it was a clear conviction that shone as bright as the moonlight on the ground where they trod. Something greater than themselves was opening doors that they could not, and in that they felt a peace about the entire adventures that lie ahead.

Nearing the top of a hill, the two could see the small glow of a fading fire that marked the center of the camp. They smiled as they approached the group of tents, eager to locate their bedrolls and get what sleep they could before the new day arrived. As they drew closer they spotted one lone figure sitting on a rock watching them approach, his gaze locked with theirs as he smiled and offered a slight wave. The two travelers exchanged a tired embrace and headed to their separate tents, both intent on sharing their news with the rest of the party in the morning.

"What would happen if you set your panic alarm off right now? Who would come?"

While I didn’t really feel any pressing danger in that situation, the question stuck with me the entire drive home. I tried answering it multiple times, but each reply was the same. I honestly have no idea who would answer that call. It wasn’t even because there were no people in the immediate area, I concluded, but rather I couldn’t think of a time I saw someone cast a glance when the familiar honking and flashing lights suddenly began. After pondering this a while longer, I came to a startling realization.

Nobody cares about car alarms any more.

Let’s be honest with ourselves and think back to the last time we heard a car alarm go off. Did we look to see if anyone was in trouble, or did we simply shake our head and wonder why they let their kids hold the keys? Can you recall the last time you saw someone stop what they were doing and go check to make sure everything was alright? I couldn’t – actually I couldn’t recall doing so myself for some time, which disturbed me even more.

I think what has happened is twofold. On one side of things, people have really done a bad job not pushing that button by accident. I know I have been guilty of that, and I’m sure you or someone in your family has as well. This slow desensitization is bound to take hold over time, and I’d even go as far to guess that we’ve heard someone "cry wolf" 21 times (thus breaking the habit as the theory suggests.)

That said, I believe there is a deeper issue other than misplaced pressure placed on a tiny remote. Society itself has reached a point where we don’t listen to the warning signs from those around us. We don’t stop to see if people are okay, we don’t want to get involved, we don’t like to consider the potential commitment it could lead to. What used to be an emergency-only feature became the subject of pranks and noise-generating mischief in our high-school years. The device designed to assist those in need turned into a toy.

Next time you hear a car alarm, spare 5 seconds and look to see if everyone’s alright. Chances are it’s a simple mistake, but do you really want to take that chance? Were that person me, I’d feel better knowing someone would check to be sure.

She let out an exasperated sigh and slumped back in her chair, the fatigue already beginning to show on her face. This was taking a lot longer than planned and the night was still young! Stacks of paper and piles of books cluttered the dimly-lit desk where the student worked, her scribbled notes and marked pages of reference threatening to spill off of the table and flood the room. Surely a mess of such magnitude would drown her – a proposition she briefly entertained before shaking her head and reaching up to rub her tired eyes.

Why did all the assignments and research have to come at once? It was as though the very blocks of stone that made up the school walls were against her. Every day she walked through endless hallways and yet somehow always ended up in the library no matter which path she took. Doors seemed to open and close when she wasn’t looking, as if someone living in the building was leading her through a giant maze.

This had been one of her hardest years yet at the academy, and though the year was nearing completion a daunting list of tasks still lie ahead. Her teachers were especially demanding of the students as of late and many seemed almost eager to teach those wonderful life skills perseverance and dedication continually. Not a day went by without one of her peers mentioning the approaching summer months, each of them eager to sleep in their own beds instead of the ones that held them captive at school.

"Ah, summer…"

She allowed herself a slight smile as the memories of previous years cascaded through her mind. Through her closed eyes she could almost picture the big puffy clouds that stretched across the bright blue sky, her skin tingling from the warm sun and the wind blowing through her hair. The mere thought of getting to see friends and family almost made the illusion too good to be true, for those were the days she got to spend the most time with her best friend.

How she wished he were here to lighten her spirits and encourage her efforts. It never seemed to matter what rose up in front of her – he always did his best to keep her sane and wrap his arms around her when it was too much to bear. She’d spend many hours just sitting with him and listening patiently while he rambled on about his adventures in far away lands. He did that rather regularly when time allowed and there were words to be said, though he’d be quick to stop when she calmly reminded him of how long he’d been talking.

This current quest had seemed more time-consuming than previous ones, and she often caught herself pondering his whereabouts and hoping he and his party were safe. She had faith that they would all return unharmed, but some days it was easier to believe than others as news from distant towns filtered in unbearably slow. Still, he had promised that one day he would return from his journey and the two of them could see each other again. Long was the wait between their reunions, and the oldest of dragons would find the task of separating them daunting on those days.

Her smile faded as she was brought back to the task at hand – she needed to put in several more hours of work before resting and was wasting time. As she picked up her quill and scooted her chair back up to the desk she took a deep breath and forced herself to relax. She needed to focus if any progress was to be made, and judging by the height of her candle she had little time remaining this evening. Tired, yet unwaivering, the student dropped her gaze to her paper and began to write…

He wore a dark shirt making his form nearly impossible to distinguish from the shadows surrounding him, and only when he sighed did the links of chain in his armor clink softly against one another. The eyes that had watched friends and family die in battle now surveyed the landscape with hawk-like dedication – should even a small bird take flight he would notice, his weapons ready to spring to his hands if necessary.

Unlike his companions the young man was not all that fond of sleeping, thus his willingness to take the first watch every night. He preferred to stay awake as long as possible, fighting back the annoying yet inevitable pull of fatigue that would eventually overpower him. This was his time for reflection, his time alone, moments that he cherished every night when he could set his mind to the sole tasks of pondering the last day and planning for the next.

A calm expression rest on his face as the events of the day ran through his mind – time spent with his kin had been both refreshing and challenging as usual. Events seemed to pass all too quickly during their waking hours, yet returned as memories once the light had faded to haunt them in their dreams. Decisions and conversations flooded over the guard as he assessed the choices he had made that day. His goal each night was to learn from his mistakes and discover how he could better assist his friends when he awoke once again. Waking up meant going to sleep, however, and oddly enough it actually sounded good as he rolled his head to relax the tired muscles in his neck.

The sound of a tent opening snapped him back to full alert, his hand instinctively reaching for the hilt of his weapon. Shifting his gaze to the camp behind him, the young man saw his eldest peer shuffling out of his tent as the slumber-induced awkwardness slowly wore off. He wore clothing similar to that of the guard, though perhaps the most noticeable difference was the purple sword slung loosely at his side. As he approached the rock he stretched his arms and yawned in attempt to pull the last bit of sleep from the air.

The young man moved aside and pulled out his canteen, handing it to his comrade as he took a seat next to him. Each nodded their heads, the silent understanding of both "good morning" and "thank you" resounding clearly through years of working side-by-side at every waking moment. As the younger of the two finished his drink, he cast a quick glance across the valley to become familiar with his surroundings. Handing the canteen back to his friend, he adjusted his armor and prepared for the night ahead. The two sat together in silence for a few moments soaking up the stillness of the night. This journey had been a long one, and promised to be only longer as time went on, but still the group had stuck together and ended each day in one piece. While this may have been a simple feat for some, considering the challenges they’d faced it was a miracle.

With one final shake of his head the older soldier sighed and rose to his feet, his weary legs cramping slightly from not having held his weight for several hours. He turned to his friend and smiled – there really wasn’t anything to say other than "stay awake" or "see you tomorrow" so he didn’t bother. The younger male extended his hand and the two briefly clasped forearms, yet another silent conversation continued through years of companionship.

The two nodded once more and the older one headed back to his tent, finally able to let himself consider rest now that his friend was on watch. He trusted his friend with his life – a trust earned through many years of hardship and struggle. The younger soldier briefly turned to watch him walk off, then turned his attention to his task and began his watch.

Nothing would get past them tonight.

Play song: 1000 Words (FFX-2 Mix)

It’s never easy to return to "normal life" after visiting family. As you get back into your routine you are reminded of all the fun times you had, the catching up you did, and the memories you made while spending time with each other. I personally don’t get to see family that lives outside of Nebraska very often, and even then there are really only a handful of people I’d make a special trip for. Sorry but I just don’t have a deep connection with most of my blood relatives – I still enjoy seeing them yet I feel like a complete stranger to 99% of anyone beyond the edges of my town. Most of those people I haven’t seen in 5 – 15 years anyway so you can understand my seemingly detached state.

Now when it comes to extended family, meaning those I define as family but don’t share a common relative with, things are different. Again there are very few people in this category, but there’s one group in particular that moved away over a year ago I miss very dearly. The song I’ve posted with this is titled "1000 Words" and I hope you listen and look up the lyrics if you haven’t heard it before. The family I’m referring to is one in a million, and I’m incredibly humbled just to hang out with them and know I’m accepted there no matter what I do. After knowing them only a short while I was told to walk in without knocking, stay as long as I needed, and contact them if anything was amiss. I grew very attached to them very quickly, so you can imagine my reaction when I learned that my best friends, my parents, and my siblings would all be 9 hours away instead of 9 minutes.

"I acted so distant then, didn’t say goodbye before you left"

This line from the song was me for about a year or so before I heard they were moving. I was wrapped up in things I was doing and places I thought I was going, but didn’t pause to make time for them. As a result it has been hard to get back into the "swing" of things and reconnect with everybody. All of me wanted to regain the time that was lost, and making sure I spent the last week or so with them before they left was the start of a re-awakening that revealed a lot to me about my actions. After that point, getting to see them months later was rough, and the pie-in-the-sky version I had in my head at that time just didn’t quite come to life. Really though, how selfish was it that I expected anything less? Who am I that their lives should stop when time is made for a trip only a few times a year? Especially with the track record I had as of late…I wasn’t exactly a participant in their daily lives like I should have been and missed out on a lot because of it.

"Wait for me I’ll write you letters"

The only good thing about being apart from someone is how special it is when you’re together. As time goes on we get to see each other about 4 times a year, and I’m really glad that trend continues to this day. It’s been such an honor to grow close to such an amazing group of people, and I could write for days about how God has used them in my life to stretch and move in new directions. I’d have been torn up or in jail if I continued some of the tendencies I had before really getting to know them, and now that I can see that more and more any time spent together is precious to me.

Now I don’t know about you, but the days following getting to see people like that always seems to result in a near bi-polar shift in my energy levels, attitude, and daily functions. While this may seem shallow to some, and that’s fine if so, there are lots of reasons this happens and is only intensified with the long drive home. Every trip we/they have made since the move over a year ago has resulted in various levels of this – plus returning this weekend was already going to be strange because Carolyn is in Colorado. Let’s just say from the day I left I wasn’t sure Monday/Tuesday would be good days to be around me.

However, this time was different.

This was one of the first times in a couple years that I felt 100% comfortable and at home the moment I arrived. Lots of old issues and problems have really minimized, we’re back up to speed with one another, and there’s a comfort level there that can only be described as family. During the entire duration of our stay I tried to focus on several great things that happened each day before going to sleep, and during the drive home I had time to really reflect on all the neat occurrences that the week brought for us.

"Though a thousand words, have never been spoken"

While driving home I almost started a list of all the cool things that God did for me this week, and was really tempted to make as detailed a list as possible to include in a post like this. What it ended up being was a simple rundown of just a few key things that really impacted me – even those were just so I could remember to keep track of those later on. For a while I was really afraid writing anything down would spoil the experiences and lessons I learned because I’m human and am sure to leave something out somewhere.

Anyone who knows me really well knows I’ve struggled with how to retain special memories, both for encouragement later and learning tools. What I discovered after I got back, however, was that trying to contain everything that happened on paper would limit how special they were. We had some fun times and even simple things like a new profile picture are evidence of that, but to really try and capture the deeper more meaningful ones is next to impossible. There are so many layers to what may seem like an average conversation or activity that the most important details and memories would be lost.

I think it’s really important to address events like this before or as they happen, because it makes a huge difference in how we remember our interactions and experiences with those we love. The bittersweet goodbyes can turn sour so quickly, and if we allow our minds to chase selfish rabbit trails we lose the blessings that friends bring and are left with lingering discontent. There’s nothing wrong with missing people, and there’s also something right about the feelings of "one more day please?" because it reminds us how much they mean to us. What can poison and separate friends is letting those emotions pull us down and tear us up while we wallow in self-pity.

Falling into this trap was a regular occurrence for me until I made an important realization and conscious decision – my family means more to me than that.

I can’t let that happen anymore when I get to see them. It only does a disservice to their character and our relationships – we don’t come out of that any closer if all I feel is remorse. I was incredibly blessed and honored to spend time with them this week, and though it will never be enough I’m grateful for what they mean to me and how much I mean to them. Even if it’s only a few times a year I’m still getting to see and know them better – I’m happy I’ve been able to see them every 3 months and hope/pray it will continue!

"But now I’m not afraid to say what’s in my heart"

If you’re missing someone or ever felt the same way I used to, hit play and listen to a song that does a great job painting a picture of a deeper connection between friends and family than I can write here. When the music ends and the last notes drift into silence, pick up the phone and call someone you need to connect with. Send them a text message or an e-mail, post on their wall, do what you have to do. Make sure you honor your relationship with those you care for by making time to stay in touch and up to speed on what’s going on in their lives. It may sound simple and even shallow, but I promise you it’s worth it.

Any number of words and emotions mean nothing unless you express them to each other – trust me when I say you don’t want to be left standing there knowing they’ll fight their battles "far from you, far too easily." I’d much rather be one that supports and strengthens my family, much like the chorus below. Who knows if just a few of the things you need to say to them might help them through a hard time? I can personally vouch for how much it means when someone takes time to show that they care for you.

"And a thousand words
Call out through the ages
They’ll cradle you
Turning all of the lonely years to only days
They’ll hold you forever"

When creating, you must first come to terms with the fact that not all of your ideas are going to last more than a week, and some that you’ve worked on for years aren’t going to pan out either. A good example of this in my case is a website that I have been pondering off and on for well over a year. It was to be a movie review site based on things I had learned about in a screenwriting class – my goal was to view films and post reviews/ratings much like any of the dozens of sites out there that already do this. The problem, I realized, was that there were already so many other sites out there already doing similar things and my site would most likely not have enough "pull" to stand alone with the features I had in mind. So I had to reluctantly put that idea on the shelf and move on.

Now it’s worth noting that I may still use that idea (or even the concept) for another site at some point in time. Is it selfish to want to hold on to a concept or line of thought? No, not at all. In fact by not learning from what you’ve done you limit where you can go next. (See also: creativity) What’s wrong is when you hold yourself back because you don’t want to let go of something you came up with. It may be brilliant – but will it help your project goals? If not you need to either transfer it to an area of storage for later use or toss it all together. Holding on to past ideas is a great way to show people you’re not moving forward.

In my mind, the strength of a creative person is their ability to move and adapt as ideas come and go. Just as the industry changes, so should the approach to new and uncharted approaches to said field. (Actually, we need to change faster!) While it feels wrong and unnatural to toss an idea out that you’re attached to, part of making a good product is pruning the areas where you recognize weakness. I’ve heard many people say when writing dialogue you should pick your favorite line and toss it out – make that scene work without that witty phrase and the integrity of the whole is increased. So even if it feels off, do what your gut says when it comes to conceptualizing your inspirations. You’ll be happier when that refined idea comes to the forefront much more than you will than watching your first notion fall on its face.

10 – Multiplayer to a whole new level. Without a doubt, the most popular thing about Halo 1 & Halo 2 was the online/network experience. Now with Best Buy sponsoring the first few days of the release (see also: FREE XBL GOLD ACCOUNTS) there’s no excuse for not being able to experience online play. (Well, you need an Xbox 360 too – see point #5.) Improved matchmaking, veto system for those of you who like to quit games you don’t like, and much more.

9 – Incredible technology all around. Boasting an intricate AI system, this game is all but guaranteed to never be played the same way twice. Most of the screenshots and other media has been produced with the in-game graphics engine, so it’s clear to see that the graphics and level of detail are astounding.

8 – It’s not a port of a racing/sports game. Yeah sure some of these are fun, and I even play a few now and then, but come on. I can only smash my Ferrari/linebacker so many ways before it gets old. How about putting a super-charged linebacker armed to the hilt in a vehicle with tires bigger than André the Giant, THEN propose a race-to-the-death, and we’ll talk.

7 – Millions of pre-orders, making this game one of (if not the single) best-selling pre-ordered games ever for this system. In comparison, Gears of War just recently neared the 4,000,000 mark, even as one of the highest-rated games available for the Xbox 360 with astounding reviews across the board. Word on the street had it that some of the planned numbers for stores were actually sold out, though I’m sure more are being manufactured to help compensate the rush.

6 – Fantastic marketing. Even if you can’t appreciate all of the aspects of the gameplay or technology, this title is being publicized in ways not yet approached by other game companies. Rather than explain all of them, I’ll just list a few various ones here: live-action shorts (Arms Race), TV spots and trailers (Museum & Believe), machinima episodes (Red vs. Blue), replica models for adults (Halodiaorama) and toys for kids, plus sponsored product promotions and a host of usual events like press releases and special previews for the public. (Though apparently some people aren’t as crazy about some of the marketing…I thought the Mountain Dew commercial was quite funny myself.)

5 – It plays on the Xbox 360, which is the second most popular gaming console leaving stores. I won’t get into a debate here as to which console is best, as I really do love the Wii and the PS3’s technology is astounding (though nigh taken advantage of.) Nevertheless, the Xbox is a tried-and-true piece of hardware that runs some of the most popular games on the market. While "sales not make one great" there are plenty of features and perks that make this tank-like console worth owning. (Plus, did I mention it runs Halo 3?)

4 – Customization, design, and development…while you play. Don’t like where the weapons are on a particular level? Want to make a game type where gravity is equal to that of Jupiter? How about creating a custom powerup that gives you the answer to life, the universe, and everything instead of just an overshield? Now you can with Forge, Bungie’s all-new level designer and customization tool. What about those that wish to give the Master Chief a new look, where he can don a sleek stylish helmet instead of the boxy one he wears now? In Halo 3 you can create your own multiplayer profile just like the previous two titles, but with these added controls to make your character known throughout the internet at first glance. Bungie knows they have a fantastic dedicated community for this series, and they are putting the same tools that the level designers had into the hands of every single gamer willing to take the plunge.

3 – Uber-extensive testing, market research, and data analysis BEFORE the game ships. Three years of development and testing goes a long way, with idle employees picking up the latest build and playing it every day. That doesn’t even include the army of testers for the alpha and internal beta tests, along with the Epsilon team playing during the home stretch right up until the game went gold. All this and much more, including special community and media tests documented with scientific precision, plus events like the public beta back in May that opened the doors to hundreds of thousands of eager players all over the world. This game has been played every single day for a very long time, and by addressing each issue as it arose Bungie was able to get key data and bug reports that it would have otherwise never gotten until after launch.

2 – Story, woven through the campaign and fiction. The Halo universe is one of adventure and ~~SPOILERS~~ (edited out – buy the game to learn the rest.)

1 – Community. Saved films, public file share, forge levels, screenshots, and much more can not only be accessed in-game, but also uploaded/downloaded via the all-new Bungie.net that is promised to appear very soon. This re-design of the site will be a portal for all aspects of the Halo community, and will draw fans and players alike together in ways like never before. Whether you’re a hardcore gamer or just looking for the occassional weekend recreation game, Halo 3 is bringing more to the table than any other FPS in history. Believe what you will, think what you like, but be sure to at least give this game a shot (no pun intended) come September 25th. It’s going to be awesome – will you finish the fight?

While this article made me laugh from the very headline, the more I read the more I realized how sad it was that entire companies go to some of the lengths they do for people. This world boggles my mind. Not only are people so uncertain about what comes next when they die, but there are services out there that cost tens of thousands of dollars just to have something completely temporary performed on your rotting corpse. (Don’t go there.) Let’s see a few of the options available to the undead:

• Have your ashes scattered at sea
  This is pretty common, so I’m not going to say much here. I do have to wonder what PETA thinks of this, but hey they get riled over all sorts of things. If I did this I’d definitely have “So long and thanks for all the fish!” etched on my urn. If you’re going to be dumped over the open ocean to be instantly diluted in millions of gallons of salt water, you might as well make someone laugh first.
• Rebuild Atlantis
  Wow…just, wow. Not only can you be made into a brick, but you can help rebuild a city underwater! (This is for those that want to make sure they sink to the bottom, as opposed to they that chose to be “sprinkled.”) The only problem is…you have to be underwater to see it. Never the less, if you can hold your breath for eternity, this is for you.
• Go into space
  “Prices start at just $500 for a brief trip into zero gravity and back; $1,300 for an indefinite stay in orbit; or $12,500 to have your ashes sent to the moon—or even into deep space on a spacecraft powered by a solar sail.”
  Can you imagine ordering this for yourself? The phone call would go like this “hi, I’d like to take a trip to the moon…well I’m not sure when, hopefully not right away…no see it’s for my ashes…wow that’s expensive, um how much to just float out there?…uh huh, okay well what about for a quick taste of space and a burnup on re-entry?”
• Cut glass
  Because nothing is more satisfying than being able to wear a gem made from the ashes of a loved one. (I was going to make a comment about gifts, but I’ll refrain.)
• Furnish your home for the afterlife
  “CasketFurniture.com, which makes sofas, coffee tables, beds, entertainment centers, and other pieces of furniture that not only look like coffins—they can be converted, upon your death, to hold your remains.”
  This is beyond creepy. THIS IS INSANE. At least the Egyptians had the decency to give them stuff to take with them instead of making them end tables. (“Use a coaster – you’ll leave a ring on what’s-his-name!”) Not only that, but can you imagine trying to bury a couch?

I guess I personally am just not that paranoid or scared about what happens when we die. Sure you can be sad when people leave this rock, but there’s a point where it just gets ridiculous and goes way beyond “honoring their memories” and such. (Don’t even get me started on pet funerals.) When I die I know exactly where I’ll be headed and have no issue with facing that at any moment throughout the years to come. There’s a lot left for me to do on this planet, and I want to help people as much as I can until I’m gone, but I refuse to live in uncertainty to the measure that people in these articles do. If you know what awaits you, why does it matter when it comes or what happens to your body afterwards?

As for the rest – newsflash – you’ll be dead, and you’re not going to care!

That said, I sent my reel out to a major studio this week. I plan to be much more proactive about getting my DVD into the hands of those that I wish to work for, and will of course be updating this accordingly when I have news I can share about that progress. Until then (brace yourself) it’s just watch and wait without worry of what will work out or what I’ll wear while listening to whispered words of wisdom as to whether west or east I should go!

To wrap up that whirling windstorm of W’s, here’s the latest cut of my demo reel on YouTube. I love getting feedback on this stuff, so speak up if you have any comments or otherwise! (Though wailing will not be tolerated – remember we wistfully wish only for whispers within these walls.)

On a slightly less grammatically-challenging note, I found out the other day that the college I work for is getting a new president. Well, that is to say that the old one is leaving…not sure about a new one yet. Could make things a bit interesting for a department that is basically the “cutting edge digital art” side of the institution (just for you, social thread) and I’m not sure what we’ll be creating since a lot of our current workload was based off of a concept the president handed down to us directly.

At any rate I’m actually looking forward to seeing how things work out, though the way in which they-that-will-not-be-named left is somewhat of an interesting tale in itself. Lots of stuff going on behind the scenes, and frankly that’s probably a good thing! (Here’s your check, see you around.) Sure this is common practice in the corporate world, but might be hitting the bottle a wee bit hard, don’t ya think?

The auditions were very interesting to watch, though it took forever to get going even after people were inside and seated. They did some whole-crowd-sing-a-long type stuff, then came the looooong process of having each and every contestant filter down onto the floor by section. My task was to take release forms and make sure people had signed them before they touched the arena floor, and somehow I avoided paper cuts despite handling thousands of sheets almost non-stop all day. Also got to walk around and listen to the auditions a bit as I was on the floor the whole day, so that was cool.

I stayed behind after everything was said and done to help load out any leftover items from the production office, and it was nice to see things quieted down and be able to chat with the people in charge for a bit. All in all I had a good time doing this, and will certainly see about working some more whenever they come back through town for the next stage of the competition.

Now if you’ll excuse me…I’m going to go sit down all day. For your viewing pleasure I submit this rare photo taken by a hidden camera – only a few people have ever seen me in this state!

Got to help move some stuff around and set up various areas for Friday today – also did lots of the same stuff we did the first day but hey that’s why we’re there!  I have found that when in situations like this you should help with as much as you can with as many people as you can, and that way you get to experience as much of the event as possible.  I’m having a good time overall, even if it does mean standing for 2/3 of the day!

Tomorrow is supposedly the craziest day of them all, and I have to get up at 3:30 for this one so I’m heading to bed.  Should be a great last day as there will be lots to do – only bad thing is it’s supposed to be in the 100’s outside so that could be painful…

The crew has been awesome to work with, and really make sure the PAs have what they need and are taken care of.  I’ve worked with some of the producers, cameramen, public relations, security, as well as with others and they all are very helpful and friendly.  Kudos to the entire crew for making our job easier in that respect!

I leave you with a quick list of answers to the top 5 questions I heard today:

• No, I cannot help you get a better audition spot.  Sing well.
• Yes, the person who will be singing must be present for registration.  Hard to use a wristband without a wrist to wear it on.
• No, I cannot introduce you to Simon, Paula, or anyone else like that.
• Yes, I was hired locally and am not traveling with Amerian Idol all over the country.  Yes, I am from Omaha.  Good connection!
• No, you may not have my red shirt.

Crew call is two hours later tomorrow (I only have to be up at 6:00) so yay for extra sleeping time!

Actually the truth of the matter is I’ve been running almost non-stop since my bother and I got back in town two weeks ago, and it’s getting busier every day.  Just about every project for work/freelance/other is coming to a crux this month.  You can check my “What I’m Working On” page for the details, but suffice to say I’ve got a lot on my plate right now.  We’re in crunch time on a culinary project at work right now – basically that means trying to cram about two weeks worth of effort into 4 – 5 days.  Every now and then projects come along that take you by surprise, and this is certainly one of them, as we’ll be forced to release the promo on the 15th whether it’s finished or not…

Aside from all that, this week is even more “fun” because I’m pulling three 5am – 6pm days in a row working as a PA for American Idol when it comes to Omaha.  I think my duties will entail minor grunt work and such, but either way I’m going for the experience and hopeful contact-building opportunities that will ensue over the period of those few days.  I’ll be posting updates and/or rundowns of how things go later this week, be sure to check back to see a snippet of what goes on when one of these events hits town.

Before I put anything else on this website, before I add content of any kind, and before I check to see if anyone’s looking, I want to make one thing very clear:

It’s not about me.

This website is the product of many lines of thought all crashing into one another after months of consideration and wishy-washy skitsofrentic arguments with myself. (For those of you still reading, that translates into a lot of careful consideration.) I never wanted to blog, and to this day don’t really see the point. I mean come on, why would people on the internet want to go read what is going on in my life? Who cares but those who wish to ask? For months, years actually, this was my line of thought in a nutshell. I already have a demo reel – what more could people need to know, right?

Then one day I took a hard look at what I browse online. I started keeping a mental checklist of all the sites I visit more than three or four times a week. Many of them belong to film companies, game studios, or other professional organizations. But when I summed up and simplified the “purpose” of several other sites I frequent I came to the realization that I actually DO check sites where people post their “thought of the week” or funny comic strip or whatever they use to tell their story. Many of these people I can pick up the phone and talk to right now, but really some of the most up-to-date information I have on them comes from the little tidbits of information they put up in between our times of direct contact.

So when I say this site isn’t about me, I first want you to understand how hard it is to actually bring myself to write this. I don’t expect anyone to actually read this far into this post, but perhaps if you have you’ll be one who comes back to see what I’ve added at a later date. And to those of you who do know me in real life – I honestly think you’ll be interested in what appears in these pages as time goes on.

I want to use this space and time to post little pieces of information about stuff I’m working on, ideas I have, projects I’m starting/finishing, and also new things I’m trying to bring to the forefront for consideration. You’ll see very little “oh my gosh I hate traffic” and whatnot, because that would defeat the motto of this site wouldn’t it? Rather, I submit that while this is my “personal” site, there will be much more here related to my everyday life and projects as a whole than my actual “professional” site. (However, I can promise an occasional witty remark, movie/game review, or playful jab at something I encountered during the week. Gotta detach now and then I suppose…)

All that said, I humbly request that you take this to heart as you read whatever else may come from these first few baby steps. Bookmark if you will, leave if you like, but if you have any interest in knowing more about who I am, what I do, and why I do it this is the place. Stay tuned!