More experiments. A Mondrian-inspired note card, much globbier than intended.
Trying to kick the habit of needing to feel like I’m decent at something creative before attempting it. How much potential joy has that robbed me of over decades?
It is January the third and I’ve just opened the windows and turned on the house fan.
It’s been my tradition for several years to have the first meal of the new year at a diner. If I’m in STL it’s usually this one, and this meal.
If you’d like to listen to one of the greatest orchestras in the world play its New Year’s Eve concert with an all-surprise program, here you go. 7:30 Central Time.
Things that would feel too on the nose if they appeared as a movie metaphor, but that literally exist in my parents’ shed.
My other kid: “Dad, who’s the best at soccer?”
Me: “Well, right now Argentina is the best.”
Him: “But I’m the best.”