Like a lot of people right now, I’ve been feeling the fatigue of being permanently online, and I wanted out, if only for a day. So I detached myself from all technology, even if internet access tends to benefit me, defining words and reconstructing sentences before I even finish my thoughts. I locked my phone in the kitchen cabinet for the better part of a day. The result was something I hadn’t experienced in years.

It’s not a secret that intentionally letting boredom strike is becoming popular, even amongst the digital creators whose lives we mindlessly scroll through. However, putting the phone down wasn’t the point – choosing to push through the friction of a day without it, because I knew being intentional was worth the discomfort, was.

I must admit, I sat down to journal with the phone still cooling in the cabinet and caught myself habitually writing the letters 'RN' on the paper, expecting it to magically expand like a text shortcut into "right now" as I kept writing. This embarrassing wake up call told me two things. The first, that I needed to turn off all shortcuts and predictive text features on my phone immediately. The second, that I needed to read more.

“Surely people who read don’t write out text message abbreviations”

I finished journaling, and wandered over to the bookshelf aspirationally filled edge to edge to hopefully select the book that would captivate me so much that I forget my phone wasn’t glued to my hand.

“Steal Like an Artist” stood out like a sore thumb. Not because of its popularity, but because it sat between two novels quite narrow in stature, and if you know anything about the Austin Kleon book, it’s the opposite of tall. The spine protruded from the wall like the book had been expecting me, patient through all the times I've passed the bookshelf with my eyes glued to my phone for design approvals and text messages.

I sat down and decided to read it start to finish. I wasn’t going to get up until the book was closed and I was staring at the back cover.

An hour rushed by and I closed it feeling like I'd gotten something back. I went back to the bookshelf and grabbed an old philosophy book from the 60's, free from a library giveaway, that I took purely because the cover design struck me as something I could steal for a future project. I'd been stealing like an artist before I ever opened the first book. Kleon would call it research.

This one was denser. Filled to the brim with words the modern day person is far too unfamiliar with, and at one point I dozed off into another train of thought for a solid three pages, convincing myself I was reading and utilizing my time wisely.

The day ended slower than I’m used to. After hours by the window, turning over what I’d read, I was met with what I can only describe as intake overload. My mind was moving in a way it hadn't in years, I felt inspired. I felt in tune with my roots - I felt like a kid again, examining my thoughts with a sense of wonder.

This isn't me challenging a perspective so much as a love letter to the basics. Writing it out, it feels almost too elementary to say. But the purity of it was hard to ignore.

The next day, in a meeting, I caught myself explaining the difference between scholars and thinkers. Something I’d apparently held onto from those three “dozed off” pages, retained only because a clever cover design pulled the book off the shelf in the first place. The recall came back unprompted, it no longer felt like overload, it was just basic learning and reference.

Over the week that followed, I realized what was missing in how I create from reference. It wasn't the intake itself, but that I'd been fed the references by an algorithm, or a 'more like this' page, instead of seeking them out with intention.

I’m not interested in pushing culture anymore, or even changing it the way I used to be. Every creative director, entrepreneur, designer, writer, and operator is always talking about changing culture or shifting something. But I watch change happen every day now. Things move faster than they ever have, and “times are changing” applies to tomorrow more than it does to any era we’ve lived through. I’m interested in defining culture, and creating as the result of a lifestyle. Through discipline, routines, high standards, and intention with what we’re given.

My Sunday taught me that to be a definer, you have to prioritize intake in a way that serves your health and your thinking. The one thing we're all given equally is the chance to use our time well. There's more information at our fingertips now than at any point in history – so will we use it with intention, or let it do what it’s meant to, and chip away at us?

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89 – Conditions

A log of feelings or “conditions” I’ve experienced over the course of publishing The Newsletter:

• Vapid

• Briefly untouchable

• Self-aware

• Certain this is the one

• Performative

• Vulnerable

• Validated

• Certain this means nothing

• Rehearsed

• Thankful

• In tune

• Edited

• Impulsive

• Seen

• Creative

• Unfulfilled

• Disdain

• Connected

• Wrong

• Humbled

• Joyful

• Alive

• Belabored

• Exclusionary

• Like I’m trying (good)

• Like I’m trying (bad)

• Confused

• Unraveled

• Dull

• Reinforced

• Unconvinced

• Genius

• Too nuanced

• Verbose

• Talented

• Artful

• Lazy

• Insightful

• Unmotivated

• Flattered

• Insecure

• Objective

• Challenged

• Like God said Thank You

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88 – Perennial

Excerpts and highlights from The Newsletter, drawn from years of installments, are now on Instagram.

These fragments earn a second life, worth revisiting in the quiet space between issues, when the last one has settled and the next hasn't yet arrived.

Follow along, and share what stays with you. – @the__newsletter

For a few weeks now, I’ve felt a strange lethargy toward things I was passionate about just a few months ago. Developing a new idea, long distance running, traveling, and daily disciplines have all slipped to the back burner for reasons I’m still trying to articulate.

Maybe it’s the oppressive Texas heat wearing me down, or simply the weight of too many things I’ve willingly taken on to juggle at once. Whatever the cause, the pull to keep going has gone quiet.

It’s easy to get discouraged when things turn difficult, but if I’ve learned anything from the past four and a half years of being pushed out of my comfort zone and writing, it’s that staying with an idea, even when we don’t feel like it, pays off every single time.

Even when we don’t feel like finishing what we started, there’s hidden value waiting on the other side of seeing it through.

If we only push when we feel like it, if we only create when we feel like it, if we only try when we feel like it, then we never really cared. It was just impulse and emotion.

Seeing it through and “finishing the idea” isn’t done to impress others or for monetary gain. It’s often not even done for ourselves. Sometimes we have to stay consistent so that someone else can benefit from our output and, in turn, create the next great thing. Even when we never get to see the fruit of our efforts.

So we see it through.

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87 – Architecton

There's a strange asymmetry to how we experience time. A childhood summer can feel longer than an entire adult year, and the reason has nothing to do with the calendar.

Lately I've been challenging myself with being hyper aware of newness within lived experience, and how newness is the key to feeling like life is more enjoyed and, as a result, truly lived. Lived the way you remember it as a child, inside long summers and experiences you never forget.

When we’re young our concept of time is exaggerated, not just because we’re children, but because everything is new. Experiencing newness creates memories that become “pillars,” laying a foundation for a life well lived. Eventually we outgrow this and adopt a secondhand approach to life where we scroll through highlights of people traveling the world, summiting that mountain, creating that art, and buying that home thanks to the digital age. But there’s an escape from this – it's saying yes despite the excuses we reach for first: it's not convenient, it's not in the budget, not right now.

The busier I get with work, projects, and life, the more I realize there's one skill we all have to master. It’s the art of architecting our time.

Experiencing new things constantly as a child, sometimes daily, makes your early life feel much longer and fuller. When we age, everything becomes familiar. And so we operate under the illusion that we're creating a life worth living by reserving it for special occasions. We stop creating lasting memories. We stop creating moments that can be looked back on and make us think, “Wow, that was only a month ago?” We stop creating “pillars.”

When we fill up our days with more memorable things, more experiences, more small moments that compound into a life better lived, we begin to elongate our lives compared to living only within the parameters of the familiar. Because the familiar is where time becomes a formless void. It doesn't compound. And living there long enough is what convinces us that life is short. But I don’t believe life is short. I believe life is more than we often allow it to be due to our shallow lens and lack of novelty.

Novelty compresses subjective time into density. A month packed with new perspectives feels longer lived than a year of repetition, because the fullness is what makes time feel real – and the disruption of a routine rewards those who become architects of their time, and say yes to that project, that experience, and that idea.

In Greek, the word architecton is a compound of arkhi- (ἀρχι-), meaning chief, leader, or master, and tekton (τέκτων), meaning builder, carpenter, or craftsman. An architecton in the ancient world wasn’t just a designer. They built and ran the entire process, top to bottom. Nothing slipped through the cracks because they were masters of the full breadth of the work. And while this might not be the strict etymological use of the word, it resonates with how we have to be with our time, always creating “pillars” for memory.

Newness isn't a luxury or a hobby, it's the fundamental mechanism of a life well lived. And the corollary is simple – if we're not actively creating new moments, we let life compress into nothing.

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86 – Rules & Rituals

• When I cook, I clean as I work

• Every time I use my phone I rest it in the indention left on my pinky from using my phone.

• Every morning, I walk the same route to get my coffee.

• When I drink my coffee, I only sip, never swig.

• If I play music on my phone it’s never less than 85% volume. If I play a CD in my home it’s never louder than 25% volume.

• When I stretch, I only do it until i feel like not doing it anymore

• When I read I sit up straight

• Every time I’m on a plane I write something even if its bad.

• When I write a Newsletter I never re-write something if its further back than 1 paragraph

• When I sleep I put my phone in the kitchen

• When I wake up I dont use my phone for 1 hour

• When I run I put my shoes on outside

• My desktop homescreen is only allowed 5 folders on it. If there’s more it tells me something must be finished or re-organized

• When I see the sun, I thank God.

• When I feel the rain, I thank God.

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85 – The Fleeting Thought

Monday, April 20, 2026

8:51PM

In a time of sociopolitical chaos, busy days, rapid “progress,” streamlined gratification, short attention spans, striving for more, and the inability to commit to one thing – I become more and more acutely aware of “the fleeting thought.”

8:58PM

I hate that I’m so familiar with it. It’s that idea I keep having - it excites me for a moment, and then my phone buzzes. The plan I keep trying to make - I open my messages to invite a friend, and then my food is done cooking. The personal project that I’ve already told 12 people I’m working on - I start making progress, then I spend 45 minutes watching videos I can’t recall the contents of an hour later.

9:10PM

I’ve become more acquainted with thoughts that only last a short time more than I am the ones that stick. Because it’s rare that any of them stick nowadays – and if one does stick, I don’t seem to have the time to dig deep for it.

9:22PM

When I started The Newsletter, I couldn’t decide if it was for objective teaching on creative processes, journal entry style writing, abstract thoughts, or conversations with friends. As time went on it became a culmination of all of those things, and more – it’s become an archive of entries that feel like snapshots of my current perspective, my experiences, my personal revelations, and things I felt enough conviction about to publish an opinion on.

9:31PM

However, over the last year, I’ve stopped writing The Newsletter almost entirely. I’ve become substantially busier, I’ve gotten married, I’ve taken on more responsibility, I’ve matured in my work, I’ve become creatively fatigued.

9:34PM

I lost conviction to work towards stillness.

9:37PM

Most of the existing entries in The Newsletter came to me quickly. When I had the idea, most were written within 24 hours. Now I have a “drafts” section with a handful of fleeting thoughts that stare back at me every time I try to sit down and force an installment to be written. It didn’t used to feel like this.

9:41PM

In Charles Duhigg's book "The Power of Habit" he explains that you cannot kill a habit, you can only swap one routine for another. I used to spend my free time jotting down ideas in my phone, now I click on the suggested Google searches to re-visit topics I’ve already researched. I replaced stillness with fleeting thoughts, and The Newsletter has timestamped proof of when it happened.

9:47PM

The switch from writing to distracting wasn’t intentional – it was force fed to me by media, notifications, work, online shopping, and the idea that I just “need to zone out for a minute.” But lately, I've noticed a tangible void – I miss the stillness that once filled the small gaps in my days.

9:52PM

It’s been a full hour of writing now, and every time I make a little progress it feels like an idea starts to form, but I can’t capture it. It’s just another fleeting thought.

I still have no clue where I’m going with this.

9:58PM

What I do know is that I’m working towards stillness.

10:01PM

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84 – “A little sleep, a little slumber”

30   I went past the field of a sluggard,
 past the vineyard of someone who has no sense;

31    thorns had come up everywhere,
 the ground was covered with weeds,
 and the stone wall was in ruins.

32    I applied my heart to what I observed
 and learned a lesson from what I saw:

33   A little sleep, a little slumber,
 a little folding of the hands to rest—

34   and poverty will come on you like a thief
 and scarcity like an armed man.

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83 – A Study on the Worn Heart

A Study on the Worn Heart –

Day 1

Day 7

Day 14

Day 21

Day 28

The heart breaks.

The heart collects debris.

The heart still remains.

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82 – Voice Memo Transcription

“Hey, sorry I’m late getting back to you. I wanted to take some time and think about my response before hitting you back – I think it's a good idea to start something new. I mean, I don't really have any comments or thoughts about the entire first half of what you said, I think if you're looking for an opinion, or insight… I think the most valuable feedback I can give is about your hesitation to admit that you’re afraid of being judged or embarrassed when creating something outside your wheelhouse. I think that's a pretty common theme amongst all people who create anything.

I mean, I deal with that, even with the type of things that I make. I deal with that with The Newsletter sometimes as well. Not often, but sometimes I'll write something and think, “this was probably a little too much.” – and that’s kind of intimidating. But overall, our our goal as people who make things is, in a way – To be embarrassed. And be humbled. And be “judged.” And that’s kind of the beauty in the attempt.

If you wanna do something new and you’re afraid it might be a little too left field or people might not be able to “match it up” with you personality, or the way that you dress, or the way that you talk, or your job, or you know whatever it might be… if you're stuck thinking, “Oh gosh, if I make X, then Y and Z won't add up – I guess I have to make everything add up.” That's kind of a lame excuse for… (?) conformity in your own image I guess.

That’s a weird way to put that, but hopefully that makes sense. If you're only trying to make things that line up with how people perceive you, or even the way you perceive yourself, then that’s not really right.

Y’know… what if you're not the most fashionable dresser? I’m not super into fashion, you aren’t either – so does that mean you can only make the musical equivalent of jeans and a t-shirt? That doesn’t make much sense if you’re “supposed” to make things that align with how you dress or what you do for work. If that was the rule, then everybody would be making really boring art, because there’s not many people that are innately interesting.

Doing things that don't fit into the typical, expected “boxes” that people have for each other is kind of what makes making things great.

To an extent, people are only interesting because of what they made or what they are able to push out from beyond that box.

You know your favorite artist, ███ ███████? Well he’s an average guy, but his music is incredible – so now everybody suddenly thinks, “Wow ███ ███████ is so cool!” But actually, you’re more likely to be underwhelmed with the artists you look up to if you met them in person.

My point is, I think you should take the risk, and I don't think you have to be afraid to do something different. We have this desire to create things – and when I say “we,” I mean people like you and me that are always looking for “the next thing to do.” But it’s how we honor that desire that matters.

You have to be okay with the fact that sometimes your idea won’t stick the landing, and that’s what actually separates the thinkers from the doers. And not just with music, but with everything… that’s what makes an artist – Being someone who’s willing to try something, throw it out, hope it sticks the landing, and be okay with others watching it fall down. And if you’re not doing something that people expected you to do, maybe that’s a good sign to lean into that thing. There might be something fresh there.

I don't necessarily know if creative people are supposed to be embarrassed, but I do think that it kinda comes with the territory. And if you put it that way – then yes, you’re supposed to be “embarrassed” and humbled throughout the process of trial and error. I believe you can’t do anything truly new, or truly fresh, or truly exciting, if you don't fumble – and fumble hard, at least a handful of times.”

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81 – Brain rot, overthinking, and routine

Sometimes there needs to be an unfiltered, raw train of thought(s).

Too much of “𝓌𝓇𝒾𝓉𝒾𝓃𝑔” is portrayed in ways that we don’t think or communicate like. Sometimes we need a release of ideas. The truth is, I haven’t had enough time to focus on The Newsletter, but nobody cares.

This isn’t an artistic installment meant to offer a new point of view or an inspirational pat on the back. It’s not an installment I wrote in the early morning light over a cup of coffee feeling grateful for a quiet morning alone. It was written too quickly because I needed to send one of these things to keep a promise to myself that I would make time for The Newsletter minutes after ingesting a burrito on the tail end of a grueling work day.

On “brain rot” –

We’ve reached a point in the digital age where all pop-culture, media, and platforms are constantly rotting our brains and we’re fully aware of it. But we’ve leveled up and reached a new tier of self-harm by deeming content that’s even more parasitic and mindless than the typical ‘unbox my amazon thing’ or ‘watch me clean this dirty room’ as “brain rot.” Which is fascinating to me, because if you Google brain rot videos – they all seem to be various edits of already viral videos and online trends that were just edited to the point of resembling whatever “brain rot" is… So really, the brain rot content isn’t anything new or sectioned off from normal content. It’s just videos we already watch… edited in a way that waters in down to be even more meaningless?

A photo from December 2024 –

An experience I had in public last week –

I was sitting in a coffee shop the other day and a guy I’ve met at least 3 times came in and waved at me. I waved back, knowing that I had no clue what his name was for a 4th time. The guy came up and said hello, we talked for 2 minutes. He mentioned his name. I forgot it again.

A quote –

"Idolatry is committed, not merely by setting up false gods, but also by setting up false devils; by making men afraid of war or alcohol, or economic law, when they should be afraid of spiritual corruption and cowardice."

On appreciating coffee –

I drink a coffee every single day. It’s an early morning joy of mine that I truly try and savor each moment of. Sometimes, when the coffee is really hitting the spot – I like to imagine the process that had to take place in order for me to enjoy the simple pleasure of sipping on a cortado and staring out of the window.

On the sourcing side – empty fields that had to be prepped for planting, the time and care it took to nurture the coffee plants, the laborers that worked in the sun for weeks to harvest the cherry and get the beans, the process of washing (or not washing) the harvested product, the packing, shipping, transporting, driving, approving, paying, and distributing.

On the production side – hours of training and honing a skill to know how to extract the espresso from the beans just right, an appreciation for an art form that many overlook and don’t understand the details of. All of this… just so I can drink the coffee too fast, upset my stomach, and complain about how it makes me anxious.

Another quote –

“Strategy is not about adding more and more stuff.

Strategy is about taking stuff away.

Taking away everything, until there’s only one thing left.

One single powerful thought.”

A concept I wrote down for a website –

A website as an “archive” for music I’ve listened to with a 1–10 rating scale and a text input box for a maximum of 5 sentences. The website wouldn’t offer any interactions or purpose other than to log every album I listen to. Overtime, this public record would act as a time capsule to seeing what albums, artists, or music was either trending, or had my interest in a clean and organized manor. The website design, CMS, and structure could also be offered as a template for others to do the same for themselves – creating an ecosystem of websites that all look identical, but take different shape due to the music and entries the website hosts. It’s not a social platform or an app, it’s not trying to be something it’s not. It just is.

On Kan(Ye) West and his recent outbursts –

…..

Actually, nevermind…

Moving on…

A photo I took in February 2024 –

Things I asked ChatGPT this week –

“What's another word to replace Matutinal?”
”Tax strategies for selling stocks in the state of Texas”
”Who is Chase Rowan?”
”What does the word LETTRA mean? And how would you use it?”
”Healthy diet guide for a dog”
”What’s your favorite curse word? Use it in your response 3 times”
”What do you think of this design?”

A thought about maintaining a routine –

I started taking my health seriously several years ago, it’s been both challenging and rewarding – but I’ve reached a point where I no longer feel the same towards the routine-ness of it. At first the structure was the best part of doing something new, it felt like I was on a schedule, now I sometimes resent that I began the habit at all, because I’m hyper-aware of the things I should be doing.

However, there’s something great about knowing what you should do, and ignoring it in favor of something else. It serves as a reminder that not everything can and will be able to be adhered to – there’s joy found in letting a moment be enjoyed.

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80 – One for Myself (A Quick Thought)

I’ve spent time collecting a new “batch” of ideas to write about over the holidays (hope you had a good holiday season) and into the new year (happy new year). Partially because it was easier to use that excuse than to sit down and actually crack open The Newsletter again. I’ve been occupied with learning hard lessons since 2025 started, lessons I’m grateful for, but tough nonetheless.

Something I’ve recently been chewing on is the concept of what we “deserve” in our 20’s and 30’s. I say “we” because most of you reading this are within this age range, if you’re not, you can email me any discrepancies, complaints, or corrections at chasecrowan@gmail.com – I would love to get a conversation going. Moving on…

I’ve been sitting on the idea that at the age of 27, I’m not meant to have fun all the time… we are not meant to have fun all the time. We don’t deserve it either. We didn’t earn it yet.

In an age where social media, pop culture, and sometimes even those around us, fervently convinces us that life is meant to be enjoyed at all times and long-term benefits are just something to consider while we savor the now – we must to realize that our true calling as creators, artists, intellectuals… as human beings, is to spend our early years building a foundation that we can enjoy the fruits of later in life. To toil hard at work and spend the hours cultivating ideas that will pay us back when we don’t have the time to take the big risks anymore. To over-extend now, so that we can work out the details later. To “downgrade” our expectations of what we could be doing in order to build something truly worthwhile.

Although the term is extremely oversaturated and somewhat elementary, perhaps this is The Newsletters revelatory moment where it documents the concept of "locking in” – But I like to think that it's much more than that. It's a reality check I feel lucky to have gotten and obligated to share. Coming from someone who has both aged and matured in the midst of a generation seeking meaning and self-worth in all of the things that will inadvertently strip you of what motivation we have left, now is the best time to do the thing you’ve been contemplating. So we go – and we make it work.

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79 – Images from the past (?) weeks

In light of my recent neglect of The Newsletter, and my reluctance to drive to the post office and ship the roll of film I shot in October for development – Please enjoy an imaginative installment of “Images from the past 4 weeks.”

These images are some of my personal favorites from the last few months, and I hope you enjoy them as much as I enjoyed taking them.

Please note: All photos are shot in black and white.

Thank you!

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78 – "Self-made"

"Why do we assume 'legitimate success' is found in the 'self-made man?' Why do we celebrate those who 'did it' alone? This mindset amputates the hand that helped lift the ‘self-made’ successor up to victory, in hopes that someone they believe in will one day make an impact on the world for the better. Together.”

I'm afraid we've reached a point where the "self-made" (artist, entrepreneur, etc.) is growing increasingly more and more detached from their foundation. It's not their fault either—if anything, it's "ours" as the onlookers and cultivators of cultural advancement. We live (and often thrive) in a culture that celebrates doing it yourself without assistance. We stand on the pedestal of self-made and simultaneously discredit the ones who helped raise us up in the first place.

The ones who came before us, learned by enduring a harsher reality than we have to, and created the standards from which we operate are deserving of a platform much larger than what they often accept in the first place. It’s these people whose wisdom we desperately need but often disregard due to our cultural hunger for a life that’s built entirely on our own.

There’s dozens of ways we could try and articulate why this is the case, but within the last 12 months I've learned to look at things differently—in a way thats conducive to appreciation for the help we often receive, rather than striving for a lifestyle that boasts in self-made advancement, which, put simply, is a life of loneliness.

A victory on your own is impressive, and there’s nothing inherently wrong with a big win that you’ve ushered in based on your own efforts. I think personal victories are to be celebrated with great joy and appreciation for what’s gone into them. However, I’m afraid that too many battles won independently leads to a life that severs the need for humility. I’ve come to realize that shared victory, collaboration, and strain on your own methods, workflow, and often your ego are all rewarding beyond comparison to a victory gained with no one to cherish it with.

In light of this, we must exercise removing ourselves from the rushing waters of “self” that our culture is so fond of. It’s easy to get swept at the feet and caught up in the illusion that we don’t need anyone. In reality, we need all the help we can get to further our culture in the right direction.

This exercise is important not just for artists and designers, but for the mothers attempting to get through the day, the fathers trying their best, the young adult struggling to understand what their purpose is, and the culture that feeds on individualism. The idea of doing it on our own is attractive because we've grown in our appetite for selfish gain, leaving behind the awareness that more often than not, collaborative growth is fruitful in ways that "individual self" could never achieve. 

So we must ask ourselves – What are we striving for in our day-to-day and in our culture? What can we do to set ourselves apart from the rest in the midst of the individualist world that we live in? And what does true success look like? I’m unsure if we’ll ever reach a point where everyone agrees on the answers to these questions, but I do know for certain that wherever true success is, it’s found with the help of others.

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77 – Gratitude (x67)

A letter to God –

Thank you for the hardships.

Thank you for early mornings.

Thank you for wonder.

Thank you for music that makes us feel.

Thank you for tension.

Thank you for patterns that we don't see.

Thank you for communal laughter.

Thank you for tears.

Thank you for culture that's seeking.

Thank you for simplicity.

Thank you for ease of access.

Thank you for health.

Thank you for sickness.

Thank you for what we don't have yet.

Thank you for the human experience.

Thank you for reference points.

Thank you for bursts of inspiration.

Thank you for dry spells.

Thank you for the sun.

Thank you for friends who don't get it.

Thank you for originality.

Thank you for those memories from my youth.

Thank you for life I've experienced.

Thank you for life I've endured.

Thank you for life.

Thank you for good food.

Thank you for extremely niche interests.

Thank you for imagination.

Thank you for high quality fabrics.

Thank you for engineers.

Thank you for the mothers that try.

Thank you for hard manual labor.

Thank you for fathers that weep.

Thank you for moments of stillness.

Thank you for friendships that move fast.

Thank you for bruises.

Thank you for dreams that intimidate.

Thank you for routines that are broken.

Thank you for comedy.

Thank you for opposing world views.

Thank you for sports.

Thank you for mud that our shoes get stuck in.

Thank you for wisdom.

Thank you for resilience.

Thank you for endurance.

Thank you for not underestimating me.

Thank you for balance.

Thank you for trends.

Thank you for small towns.

Thank you for time.

Thank you for individuality.

Thank you for things we don't need.

Thank you for fruit not vegetables.

Thank you for the word "ivory."

Thank you for glimpses of good when it's bad.

Thank you for saying yes.

Thank you for maturity.

Thank you for our own pace.

Thank you for empathy.

Thank you for the children that will be artists.

Thank you for running.

Thank you for the symphony.

Thank you for grandparents.

Thank you for moments when you feel hope.

Thank you for curiosity.

Thank you for whatever happens next year.

Thank you for that.

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76 – Images from the past 4 weeks (September)

(1) Hideaway

(2) Transport

(3) Wasteland

(4) Industrial Temple

(5) Kiln

(6) Saturday, 4PM

(7) Burst

(8) Adage

(9) Amoeba

(10) Milestone

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75 – Time Management

A list of things I should have made time for, completed, or put more energy into over the last 30 days…

– Read that book about “slowing your life down”

– Saw the sun more

– Changed the oil in my car

– Budgeted more thoroughly

– Sat in silence from 6:00 – 6:45AM

– Gone to bed earlier

– Listened more

– Taken time to be more thankful

– Submitted those tax documents quicker

– Sweat more

– Cursed less

– Cleaned my apartment floors

– Set aside time to write

– Finished that project

A list of meaningless things I made time for, completed, or put energy into over the last 30 days…

– One more video about productivity

– Reorganized my phone to be “more efficient”

– Saved that meme for future use in a group chat

– Got overwhelmed in traffic

– Finished that load of laundry but didn’t fold it

– Cleaned 82GB of clutter from my laptop hard drive

– Talked about that thing someone else did

– Resented how my day went as a result of my own time management

– Thought about something that already happened

– Scrolled

– Deleted

– Redownloaded

– Researched that thing I didn’t even buy

– Questioned my decisions

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74 – Quality in Quantity

I've been made aware by the lack of fulfillment I've felt lately that the fullness of life has distracted me from keeping my habit of writing these installments. If that last sentence reads kind of long it's because I'm trying to eliminate the word “busy” from my vocabulary. I've leaned into "fullness of life" because it feels opportunistic – and in the midst of life being full, I've felt disconnected from The Newsletter. After sitting with myself and considering what options I had to reignite my drive for writing, I realized that I had allowed myself to be distracted from staying acutely aware of topics that I felt were pertinent to The Newsletter. It was in that moment, that I realized my thinking was flawed – not everything is not about constant insight.

To this day, The Newsletter is still my favorite project to date… It never fails to leave me wanting more from myself, creatively, mentally, and often times emotionally. And without beating a dead horse and asking the never truly answered question, "why do the things we love the most always go first when life gets busy?," I'm writing this installment for myself, to get another rep in, and remind myself that more often than not, repetition is the key to fulfillment in almost any area.

I don't have to have anything to say, although people will almost always prove that statement wrong, because we always have something say if we sit and think long enough about the troubles of life, the mundane, the culture, or the frustration with our output. But in the end, having something to say is not the key to creating something of value, repetition is. Tedious repetition. The kind where you wonder if you're even moving the needle anymore.

With every doubt that the needle is being moved, even just a hair closer to what you want to get out of something, a landslide of progress is made behind the scenes. And the responsibility of someone determined to create something of value is to honor the dull moments with the same respect that was given to the electric moments when you first began.

To give a disclaimer, I’m not one to preach “quantity over quality" in any way, in fact I think I’m quite the opposite. What I am saying, is that we've grown far too comfortable with instant gratification, immediate progress, and procedural creation. We’ve lost the patience required for valuable results. I don't believe that true value is created with systems and acting when inspiration forces pen to paper – but rather when discipline takes the wheel and we allow ourselves to slow down for the sake of just maintaining what we started.

Writing installments to The Newsletter has taught me many things, and one thing it continues to teach me every time I set aside time to continue, or re-introduce the habit of "just doing it" is that there are no mistakes when the art itself is just simply...consistency.

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73 – Images from the past 4 weeks (August)

After a month that seemed to fly by much faster than usual, and a rushed film lab development – A delayed installment to the “Images from the past 4 weeks” series is finally complete.

Considering I don’t remember taking most of these photos, I’m grateful for the fullness of life that’s represented in them.

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72 – A Vibrant Picture

Is there such a thing as objectively good? 

If there is, I'm in constant pursuit of it, I think we all are. I think it's safe to say that we're always in pursuit of "an objective good thing" in many areas of life, whether we realize it or not.

Artists want their work to be recognized as good.

Writers strive for that feeling of reading through the piece one last time and thinking "This is it."

Musicians refine and record time and time again in hopes that someone might hear their song and ask, "Who is this? It’s good."

Those in business try to avoid losses and red numbers in favor of more green, in the name of doing good business.

And this is good. It's all good. It should be good. But I fear that our constant striving for good is equivalent to building idols unto gods that can never be reached.

If we’re always striving for good, gritting our teeth at what we deem is "bad" or "not what we were wanting,” then we’re creating a habit of never being content with what we have or where we are at. Maybe we need to accept the fact that sometimes what we imagine is good for us… is actually making certain that we’re stuck in our ways… not progressing in areas of our lives.

Recently, I've been forced to adjust my perspective in ways that have challenged me. This year has been a journey where I've learned to be grateful for where I'm currently at in many areas of my life – creatively, emotionally, physically, and spiritually I felt like I was being force fed a harsh reality check that I didn't want to receive. For the last eight months, I've had an idea of what was good for my life. I now realize that if what I thought was good had happened, I would be even more challenged right now. Objectively, what I dreamt up as the best case scenario, was a facade – and what I’ve learned to endure through, has proven itself to be objectively good for my life.

So what does this look like in the context of our cultural hunt for objective good? How do we tear down the idols we've constructed unto false good? "Our good," that in reality is likely just our selfish wants disguised as essential needs.

We abandon our ideals – and accept that sometimes life, people, opportunity, effort, or God Himself will tell us exactly what we should strive for.

Artists need to be selfless.

Writers need to give themselves slack.

Musicians need to stop and appreciate their efforts.

Businesspeople need to accept losses in stride.

Because often, an outsiders perspective is a picture much more vibrant than what we had imagined for ourselves.

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71 – 13.1