A full day, no artificial intelligence. I wonder if my cognitive ability increased

I drive back to Scottsdale to hang out with my new friends and think about what Austin spoke over me. that night after Nissi. I am to speak truth over artists

Gino and I bring Caroline, Clay, Ben and Blayne to Bad Jimmy’s uptown.

We visit Air Apparent in Tempe.

I sneak Caroline into the men’s restroom to snap a mirror selfie with the boys

For you will go out with joy
And be led forth with peace;
The mountains and the hills will break forth into shouts of joy before you,
And all the trees of the field will clap their hands.

Isaiah 55:12 NASB1995

I meet Caroline Ridings in real life. Gino and I have dinner with her friends and make plans to visit Turrell’s work tomorrow.

Gino and I get ready for Desert Design Week.

I shoot the first mirror selfie on my new iPhone 17 Pro.

I wake up early, drive to Laveen to photograph the Dakota in Cocoa Nubuck Suede, then back to downtown to meet with Micah, Ellie and Austin at Lux. We walk over to his office and discuss the potential for a podcast/vlog series featuring Austin. I go home and eat, change shoes, then head back to their office. Austin invites me to Orlando but I have to turn him down for the ballet shoot this week.

I work at Aftermarket in the morning and snap a pic of the Dakota.

At a house in Tempe, we celebrate Logan’s move to San Diego. The party ends at 10:30pm but a handful of us linger in the living room until nearly midnight.

I watch Train Dreams with Hannah in her apartment. I cry and cry and we talk about Mckay.

I meet Ciera and Emily in Tempe for a photo shoot at Coor Hall. We photograph the Dakota Tote and go to Postino for wine afterwards.

I cook in solitude in my backyard. I look at the moon.

Hannah and Josef bring Mary and I along to a gathering of Palmtower residents. I meet Robert for the first time. We all go to Chili’s and Club Contact, where it turns out it’s K-Pop night.

Like many mornings lately I wake up and immediately go outside to feel the sun on my skin. My anxiety fades quickly.

I leave the shop in Laveen. I look at the sky.

I sit at Aftermarket.

For just a moment in the sanctuary of Nissi, I feel a comfort I can only recall from childhood. Wooden pews, a vaulted ceiling, warmly lit, stained glass windows. It is late. I am a child again, whole, safe, comforted. I feel alone in that building, but in my heart I have a family again.

Sam showers in my bathroom. I have a moment to write while I wait. I feel like I am slowing down. I am not sure what to do next.

I scroll through eight months of near daily Twitter image posts. So much comes rushing back into my mind. When I sit and reflect it can feel difficult to remember how I felt at a given time, but a handful of photos are enough to bring me right back. I feel an intensity in my head, a warmth focused at the back of my neck, above my forehead, in my shoulders and the top of my skull. I wonder what it means to connect to past versions of myself this way.  Nothing reminds me of my past quite the way a feed of images do.

I notice I have not been taking many photographs the last few weeks.

Hannah and Josef pick me up to have dinner at Casey Moore’s with Joriel. I order the Cajun Cream Linguine with Blackened Chicken and an Orange Ave Wit. I am in bed and asleep by 10:30 PM.

I lay in bed shirtless and finish editing a handful of images I shot of our new leather tote bag, the Dakota. The sun dips down below the horizon and twilight fades to black. I don’t get out of bed to turn the lights on.

I feel lost again. Why am I encountering so much resistance?

I photograph the new Dakota tote with a D850 and 70-200mm telephoto. I find it difficult to emphasize more subtle qualities of an object like a handbag through studio photography. I lack a thorough understanding of the nuances of lighting. Josef and Hannah make plans over text to go to trivia at Arizona Wilderness. I listen to Random Access Memories by Daft Punk.

I sleep through my alarm and wake up late for hot pilates with Hannah. She Waymos to my house and drives us both in my car to the Workshop while I email my resume to an interior designer I know through Instagram. Hot pilates is more challenging than I expected, and I had even expected it to be more challenging than I expected. Afterwards, we drive to AJ’s for iced tea and Discount Tire to fill up my tires. Then we meet Emily and Joriel back at their apartment for an afternoon of work and study.

I drive back to Phoenix just in time to pick Emily up and meet Hannah and Josef at AMC Esplanade 14 to watch Wuthering Heights (2026).

Erik and I cook three ribeye steaks, five burgers and a sprawl of aspargus, squash and red bell pepper. Happy Valentine’s Day to the boys.

The five of us sneak in to Modernism Palm Springs to see Kaitlyn Wolfe’s booth for Ground Floor and enjoy an open bar. Because yassss!

In the parking lot of the Palm Springs Convention Center, I facetime Emily. I look at the clouds.

Henry and I visit the Palm Springs Art Museum.

I run into a Turrell from 2005, 2-O-R. Measuring 23” x 34”, it is constructed of “Hologram and glass.” Across a particular angle of viewing, a rainbow hologram is revealed within the surface of the artwork.

After an ardous editing session, I upload nine images of the Intersect booth for Belhaus to use on its social media and Artsy webpages. I plan to study further how to better reduce inconsistent color casts from lighting on the gallery walls while photographing artwork.

With Gino assisting, I fire off a handful of photographs documenting Belhaus at Intersect Palm Springs.

We almost finish setting up the Belhaus booth under the glare of vicious white LEDs. Daniel, Gino and I snap a selfie in the reflection of Davey Leavitt’s mirror cowboy.

My favorite part of Palm Springs becomes the looming mountains to the west. I love how the clouds play among the peaks and crevices.

While loading in artwork for the Belhaus booth at Intersect Palm Springs, I capture an image of a well-worn furniture dolly.

Gino and I play tennis at a public court in Palm Springs. I have a hard time keeping up at first. I haven’t swung a tennis racket in years.

On our way to Palm Springs, we stop and fill up with gas at a Shell ten minutes past Quartzsite. Gino opens the trailer to smell the gas can.

At our soccer game, I go down hard. I land on my head. Right away I leave the field. Within five minutes, I can’t remember if I went to work that day. I don’t know what has been going on with work or relationships lately. Chelsey asks me if I remember watching the Super Bowl yesterday, but I don’t in the slightest. I try not to scare my mom, so I go on a walk with Hannah and sit in her car for a half hour talking about what happened until everything comes back to me, one bit at a time. Along with the memories come the emotional weight of recent circumstances. I feel heavy again, but I glimpse for a moment how it feels to live without this unnecessary stress. Hannah, Josef, Joriel and I go to In-N-Out after the game and sit and talk for a while.

I sit on the brown leather couch at the Ezra warehouse and type out these words. I woke up late today. Tomorrow I leave for Palm Springs with Gino. My mind is humming chaotically. I am full of unarticulated emotion.

At Hannah and Josef’s, we watch Super Bowl LX. Bad Bunny appears for possibly the best halftime show I have ever seen. We rate the commercials out of 10 and few score higher than 8. For every touchdown scored, we all do shots of vodka (except Matt and Chelsey) with pickles or lime. We fall behind in the fourth quarter and the Seahawks begin to dominate.

I meet my mom at Fixate for the 12:30 PM service. Hanna and Jorgen sit by us. We talk a bit. I take notes. After service, a man in a wheelchair, Eddy, asks me to push him to the bus stop. He says he lives near 83rd Ave and rides the bus to the church every weekend.

I sit at Aftermarket and upload the September Personal Journal to Youtube while talking to Jordan and catching up on blog posting.

I change into all black and buy a six-pack of glass bottle Modelos at Mlik and Honey on Central Ave.. I sneak them into Palabra in my black Phoebe and meet Joriel backstage while he sets up Parker’s FX3 to film By Storm’s live set for My Ghosts Go Ghost. Afterwards, I run into Daniel. We talk about Kanye’s show in CDMX, Gnuhr, the state of fashion design, running long distances and Nightgame (2025). Then we run into Quinton in the parking lot and chat for a while about his experience as 1st Assistant Editor for In Whose Name? (2025).

I show up at Otto’s shop to meet Augusta and his friend Ray. I am appointed to jump the block wall fence to retrieve a hidden key within the shop yard. We continue setting up the Gweike M3 Ultra. I drive to Circle K and pick up two gallons of purified water, a bag of Extra Toasty Cheez-its, a bag of Fritos, and a peach Liquid Death. We work far enough through the instructions to run a test cut.

I drive to Apache Junction at the last minute to join my grandparents for cake and ice cream. It is my grandpa’s 82nd birthday. I give my grandma a hug. We sit around the table and tell stories about our lives.

I go for a walk. Something about the changing of the seasons puts me back in college. As if I have the opportunity to change my life in some unknown yet significant way. New possibilities are at my fingertips. I end up at Dark Hall. I order an iced americano. I feel free. I am nervous.

I sit in the passenger seat of my own car. The last time I recall doing so was briefly on the way back from Yellowstone while Emily drove. It was not long before I was back in the driver’s seat. Now, I relax. I share with Lee a story of the last six months. We talk about performance. Phil is asleep in the backseat. We talk about using other people for validation, and to self-soothe. We talk about being misunderstood.  We talk about self-improvement with the goal of loving someone else properly. Lee speaks from experience.

I sit around a table with Phil, Lee, and a handful of other artists. We talk about James Perkins, Kid Cudi’s painting practice, the Critical Response Process and the tagline of the exhibition: The African American experience. Vi comments on how the room we are sitting feels like a production set. Eventually, I urge everyone to go outside and look at the rocks. Only Lee joins me in the parking lot.

Phil, Lee and I drive to Sedona for the [Sound and Vision](https://sound and vision sedona arts center) exhibit at Sedona Arts Center. On the way, we stop at the Chapel of the Holy Cross and shoot a handful of editorial images for Ezra Arthur.

I order Cheba Hut and Mesquite’s to 440 E Van Buren while I sit on the 7th floor with Hannah and Josef. She studies, he edits video. I fill out a list of expenses for February and edit product photos of green wallets.

Phil and I meet at Aftermarket to watch Tampopo at a phx movie club. Afterwards, Bruno discusses the beauty of amateurity, learning and the road to mastery.

I watch Otto and Augusta investigate the new Gweike M3 Ultra they ordered.

I drive to work at Ezra. Sebastian and I talk about buying Bitcoin, coding mini apps with Claude. I set up the Nikon D850 with a 70-200mm f/2.8E FL ED VR andTC-20E II. I photograph green wallets for St. Patrick’s day. Sebastian and I talk about the deaths of pets, belt sizing standards and returns via Nordstrom. Otto calls and asks if I will stop by the shop in an hour.

I sit on the big white couch in my living room. Outside, the wind is blowing.  My eyes sting from shampoo.  I re-read text messages from Tuesday night and feel worse about myself.

I watch the traffic on the I-10 from the 21st floor of 440 E Van Buren St. In the room over, a man I never see assembles a dresser. Before Hannah leaves for work, we talk about our friends. I sit down at her desk and edit video. Josef sits at his desk to my left, editing video with the Knicks game playing on his monitor. I go down to the 7th floor to use the free espresso machine. I call Joriel. We talk about our plans this weekend. Eventually, I order pizza and we put our work aside to watch the end of the Knicks game, as well as the first and second overtime periods. We talk about the sound mix of live NBA broadcasts. We try to remember what we talked about the night before. Hannah comes home. We go downstairs and work on our laptops more. I ask Claude to build a GUI for converting .MOV files to GIFs. I try it, and upload a few to Are.na.

I text Hannah. I don’t want to go home.

I soak a piece of black English Bridle leather in water for five minutes and bite into it to leave an impression.

A pizza is delivered. I press the cold rim of a glass bottle up to my lips and sip cane sugar orange soda.  I am deeply lost in my thoughts, perched on concrete blocks outside the shop, the cardboard box balanced on my thigh. I look up, to my left. A dog is standing silently, watching me eat. I don’t recognize him. He appears almost like an angel. I offer him a few pieces of crust, and he lays down in the dirt beside me. A tag on his collar reads Mr. Cooper.

I wake up. I drive to Aftermarket. Gino calls and commends me for my honesty. Phil meets me at the coffee shop, I am 40 minutes late but he does not hold it against me. Danae shows me how to make a matcha, I struggle with steaming the milk. She tries on a belt we made at Ezra yesterday. I take a couple photos with the LX 100 II.

I go to Josef and Hannah’s apartment. Instead of going to Bikini Lounge, we play Black Ops III and Hannah orders Chinese food. Mare shows up. Then we order Shake Shack.  We talk about the last few months. We talk about codependency. We play video games.

I learn to use gallery-dl to scrape the pins I have saved this past month and upload them to Are.na. Turns out the process is no different than scraping Instagram. I learn to retrieve cookies directly from the browser. This is much faster than exporting them to a text file.

Four hours on the phone today. I feel sick. What have I done?

I wake up earlier than usual. Turn over, check my phone. My red light glasses are in my car. I know I will be wide awake now. I get out of bed, eventually, take a shower. Light peeks through the bathroom window, casting a gentle shape on the wall. I start to get dressed, unentangling a tee shirt from the pile of laundry ever present on the bedroom floor. Lately I find a strange comfort in wearing clothes I have slept in. Even before the day begins, my scent permeates the fabric.

I work for a couple hours in Otto’s backyard demolishing the remainder of a concrete slab. I feel alive from the intensity of the physical labor. I love how the grey concrete dust stains these Salomon RX Slides. I look for another pair and discover they are rather expensive on GOAT.

I wake up. It feels early. My mind is well-rested, my body is exhausted. I have a soccer game tonight. I check my email. The HOA of the townhome we rented in Tempe invites me to join a new online platform. There are many people, owners and long-term tenants, who live in the same units. I was only passing through: days of wandering between the towering red brick homes. The memories of those spatial sensations are not lost in the slightest, I uncover them in an instant.

We play basketball. I play well, though I am especially tired from manual labor earlier. We are all improving significantly. After basketball, we go to In-N-Out. I order a 4x2 animal style with an extra toasted bun, light salt and raw onion added, and a fry extra well. We eat. I am rather quiet tonight.

I visit Otto and Lynnsey’s house for the first time. Connor shows up. I haven’t seen him since I left for Utah. We demolish a concrete slab in the backyard and haul debris into the dumpster. It is a blessing to exhaust myself with physical labor, an outlet for pent-up anxiety.

While on a short drive, Julian and I converse over text.

Micah speaks at Fixate. I realize I take notes just like my mom, who tagged along to meet him. She sits in the pew next to me, also typing on her phone. Hanna shows up late. I am glad she came. It is nice to have a friend at church who also exists in other social circles. Micah and my mom sit on the altar steps after service and share a short conversation. Then, her and I go to Aftermarket for a few drinks courtesy of Matteo.

It is February now. I need to pay rent. I sit at Aftermarket, update the blog with a new page for the month. I eat a bagel Matteo gave me and work on the Personal Journal for September.

I drive to Emily’s house in Tempe. We talk for hours. I go home late. I don’t know when I will see her again.

I drive to Sunnyslope to visit Gino’s house for the first time. We eat salmon bowls from Sushi Friend and talk about relationships. The sun sets, the moon rises. It’s very calm and quiet here.

Danae spins at the Belhaus “Banana Grandma” show. Gino’s mom brings cookies. Henry and I talk about bad painting, our upcoming trip to Palm Springs, the pathology of powerful people and Eric Fischl’s show at Phoenix Art. I ponder how Henry and I might be friends if we were the same age. We are friends now, after all.

I wake up. I take a shower, I get dressed, I go outside. The families are out for their morning walks. I remember how grateful I am to live in a beautiful neighborhood.

At poker night with the boys. JD cooks up some cocktails and after a few hands we order Uber Eats. After one regrettable Domino’s order totaling nearly $20, we hit three back to back $25 off to the same address. No swap needed, 100% success rate. Shoutout to Wool. IFYKYK. I win back our $10 buy in after a few hands and play for free the rest of the night.

I gaze.

At Aftermarket, I shoot a few portraits of Phil with Halide Mark II. I underexpose three stops, and bump three stops in post. I love this rich digital grain look.

I leave the shop. I gaze at the moon in the reflection of the rear windshield. For years I have gazed, the moon gazes back. In an instant I pour out the depths of my heart. The moon listens well, it always does. I remember bargaining for a certainty it could not offer, hours before dawn in the middle of the Nevada desert. “The next time I see you like this, everything will be okay. Right?” Everything was okay, eventually. But not in the way I expected. Has anything changed?

I cut pieces for another canvas bag sample. I cannot seem to stop coughing so I take deep breaths and I cough more. That is a great metaphor for something, but for what exactly I am not sure. Julian is here. He asks me if I am okay, perhaps implying that I do not look it. He is the third or fourth person in the last two days who has brought it up. I think I need to pray. Jeret calls, I answer. I will call him back soon.

Aftermarket closes while I sit at the bar editing video. Danae waits for Alex to pick her up, and Jordan reads what she wrote hours before.

I sit in bed. I feel lost. Am I lost? I don’t think so. I think I am free. I may have destroyed and betrayed myself for nothing. I have also refused to give up hope. I will not give hope up now.

We go to trivia at Arizona Wilderness and place second to last. We win four jawbreakers. I drink most of a 16oz coffee stout draft beer. Everyone comes over after trivia. Then we go to Bikini Lounge. I am sick, tired and pointlessly irritated. It’s an off night. We have fun anyway. I am grateful I am accepted and loved even when I am not at my best.

Minerva is sewing. I interrupt her before she begins stitching on the straps to capture a few study images.

After driving home, I sit in the car. I see the neighbors shifting around inside through wide open windows. They have a new baby. Yesterday, the dad stood outside with his child and howled at the moon playfully. I walked to the door to collect an order of food, tracing my steps back through the living room and closing the curtains, closing off my view of the two of them standing there on the sidewalk just after dusk. He is outside now, standing at the window and waving the baby’s arm at the mother inside.

I set up an empty desk and strobes along the south wall of the Ezra Arthur warehouse. My intention is to recreate the natural lighting I used to photograph everything at our last shop downtown. I am not far off.

I cut out canvas and leather for another version of our new bag and leave it on Minerva’s table to sew.

Hannah cooks dinner for us. We do a trivia competition in the style of some Youtube video and go to Club Contact for jazz night. We laugh, we fight, we cry: huddled under space heaters in the desert night.

It may be that shopping for groceries is the most intimate thing I have ever done with a woman.

At 8:27 AM, I drive to Fixate for the 8:30 AM service. I am only a few minutes late. Micah speaks about reaching people outside of the church and I take notes. After church, I go to Aftermarket. I show Danae this blog and finish cutting together a Personal Journal for October. Slowly but surely, I am catching up to the present day. Sam makes me a matcha with a beautiful leaf detail on the surface. Danae smokes a cigarette outside.

About an hour ago, I wake up. I slept with the heat on higher than usual. Because it is dark outside, I worry it is the middle of the night. I check my phone. Two of my friends found each other on Hinge. I wonder who else my friends may have seen on there. I respond to a few texts and regrettably watch 30 minutes of Youtube Shorts. My feed is a mix of diy, sports highlights and reckless driving. I finally lock my phone and get out of bed to shave, shower and get dressed for Sunday. I think I feel well enough now to have a normal day. Whatever normal is lately.

Caroline sends me a copy of her portfolio via Google Drive. I pitch to Sebastian the idea of collaborating with her to create a 1/1 canvas bag in our latest silhoutte. We discuss what buckle to source and how we can accomodate various plating styles, including a saltwater patina.

I watch the first epsiode of Severance) and screen capture stills throughout.

While sick in bed, I join a Google Meet with Haj and Cary. They introduce the idea of hiring me to film promo video for an upcoming brand they are working on, Office Homme. Cary suggests I watch the first three epsiodes of Severance) for visual inspiration.

I typically read on my phone, or on my laptop. When I am reading a physical book, I tend to forget it at home. Or I bring it with me everywhere I go for two weeks and read only three pages. I realize few people prefer reading on a screen. Except for the eye strain, I love it.

It is sometimes a journey to find something to read on a screen. I use SLUM: The Shadow Library Uptime Monitor to find links to shadow libraries where I download EPUBs and PDFs. Yes, this is piracy. I have not felt guilty for illegally downloading a book or document in many years, although sometimes the reactions of a new friend remind me how I may be desensitized to the reality of theft. I deeply admire the people who devote their lives to making knowledge accessible through freely available books and documents. I try to support authors and creatives when I can. Sometimes, it is a tricky subject.

I wake up. It is dark outside. Unlike the night before, memories of anxiety from the middle of the night do not flood my mind. I am focused on a strange dream I woke from, a white haired, dark-skinned man apprehending me on the street while I wait for a woman I have never met. I wander into the living room where I left my glasses and then back to bed. I scroll through a handful of texts; it feels too early to respond but I do anyway. A few minutes later, my phone vibrates. Emily is awake too. I share my dream, I start to fall back asleep. When I wake up in the morning, I read four screenshots she sent me at 4:27 AM.

Mom sends me a text while I am asleep.

*

“I’m a bit afraid. Where will my freedom lead me? What is this that I’m writing to you? That leaves me all alone. But I go and pray and my freedom is ruled by the Order—I’m already without fear. All that’s guiding me is a sense of discovery. Beyond what’s beyond thought.”

*

Água Viva - Clarice Lispector (1973)

Hannah stops by with chicken noodle soup and two oranges from Whole Foods. We talk for a bit, she goes home. Then I peel and eat an orange in bed.

I wake up. My head is swirling. There is a dream I had in the night that I cannot remember. I have nothing else to say. I think I am getting sick.

I go to the grocery store. I have not been more than a couple times in the past few months. It’s strange avoiding a place that nearly everyone else cannot. Like I am getting away with something. But now, wandering the aisles glowing with products, I wonder what I am missing. I think of the times I went to a grocery store with someone I loved. I notice right away how much more expensive everything is than I remember. I buy toilet paper, laundry detergent, half and half. The total is $44. I wear my red tinted glasses and realize it is more difficult to choose a brand or object without color perception. I guess those graphic designers are onto something. In what other places am I having a psychologically different experience by wearing red light glasses? It is a privilege to opt out of an experience normally forced upon us.

I drive home from Laveen on rain slicked side streets, the headlights and stop lights and store lights bleeding together in reflections on the wet pavement.  I feel a particular way. I can try to describe it. I know my future is uncertain and yet I feel a profound sense of security and belonging.

8 hours at the shop is far too many. But at least I got a lot done.

I cut this test swatch of white kip to try placing a 5/16” pronged dome stud into the leather.

Today I wake up late.  Within eight minutes, I am in my car driving to work. Not bad...

It’s fun to hang out with strangers and it’s fun to hang out with people who really know you.

It is 8:21 PM and I am thinking about how I had a great day.

Leaving the shop as the sun goes down and dusk hangs almost tangibly in the air...

I will not allow shame to dictate how I live and how I express myself.

I sometimes surprise myself with what I am capable of.

I get home. It’s warm inside. I like it here.

I posted two videos on Youtube of Jamie speaking at Hope today. A strange sense of both peace and determination washes over me when I listen to him speak. He points me back, towards God, towards relationship.

Driving to church in Chandler to see Jamie Winship speak today. I don’t remember the last time I drove for more than 20 minutes before 9am. Even though I’m not thrilled about living in the largest urban sprawl in America, I am grateful for the lifestyle that has been carved out for me here.

It’s never too late on a Saturday night to invite someone to church.

Absolutely wonderful morning at Aftermarket meeting up with a few friends. With Logan, I shared OpenCam and a few strategies for maximizing quality video output from an iPhone camera. Lee dropped off a ballstic nylon bag for reference.

Now, I am sitting on FaceTime with Jess while we both build out our blogs and I edit video from my trip to Minnesota last September. Hopefully I will catch up on Personal Journal videos soon.

I am having trouble sleeping tonight.

Thinking again about cognitive debt. What have I truly learned and integrated lately? I think I’d like to go back to researching by bouncing from one Google result to another, rather than querying a language model. A past method is always slipping away in favor of the future.

I’m sitting at Cartel on Oak sipping an arguably overpriced latte. I did not bring my laptop, narrowing the possible tasks at hand to four.

1. Read Água Viva by Clarice Lispector

2. Respond to emails and texts

3. Write a blog entry

4. Sit and look out the window.

2 and 3 are well enough along, perhaps I will try 1 now.

While driving home from work, I decided to wrap up my first weekly playlist of 2026.

Listen to 01 26 on Spotify.

Hello

Today is January 15th, 2026.

I am starting this blog.