A park I'm walking, daily.
A place for love, for connection, for free play.
For families, for mothers, for babies, for the retired, for singles.
For dog lovers, for bird lovers, for squirrel lovers, for flowers.
For sun bathing, for jogging, for yoga, for panevrithmia.
For what we love.
You're welcome to walk in too.
I take readers to benches — long-form essays where you can sit and stay with a thought. To lakes — pieces where I see my own life on the surface. To hills — vantage points on AI, voice, the path of least resistance. To squirrels — small observations from the walk. And to small communities of writers and thinkers I learn from.
Recent essays
- The Faster EngineI lost an hour to a stranger's channel and found the truth on his own face: his videos that help get a few thousand views; the ones that frighten get two hundred thousand. On fear as the faster engine, calm as the slower one, and why the engine you light first is the audience you marry.
- Confidence Is DownstreamI kept waiting to feel ready before I turned the camera on. A nine-minute filming guide handed me the sentence that undoes the whole wait: confidence is built by repetition. You record your way into it. There is no other door.
- Measure SomethingA doctor told me that all the sugar in the body's entire bloodstream fits in a single cube. After that I could not unsee my own life. On honesty, instrumentation, and the mercy of being measured.
- Start in the BedroomA filming guide told beginners not to start at the airport. Start in your bedroom, then a quiet park, then the crowd. It is the only honest map I have found for becoming visible without breaking yourself on the first step.
- The Kinder QuestionFor years I interrogated my failures and called it discipline. Then I learned a four-letter instrument a clinical psychologist built out of the rubble of talk therapy, and it changed which question I ask myself in the morning.