This is one of my absolute favorite sounds:


Said in no rush,

when it is the activity,

when for this moment, hello is not only

  • the gateway
  • the perfunctory thing to say before you even (if you even) look each other in the eye
  • the social pleasantry that you don't even notice you said, or that s/he said, as you get on with whatever it is you are meeting up
    • to do,
    • or get,
    • or get past.

Know what I mean?

When was the last time you said



And meant it to open a space where I can see you, and you can see me, and we didn't know what would happen next.

And, we didn't need to know already what would happen next.

And, we were curious about, interested in what would happen next.


roomy and pliable and regardless of everything else,

a moment:


daily drawing 06/17/12

daily drawing 06/17/12



the way you do when your computer gets stuck.

Vermont sky
When it happens to my computer, it's because I've had too much going on all at once, in the same space, and going on for too long. Sound familiar?

I could keep going. You can live an active life and still be stuck underneath it all, compulsively operating in the same way over and over again.

Today, I begin my self-experiment: a human restart

Turns out it's much easier than it seemed. You can just decide.

And, like my computer, you'll still have all your programs [habits], files [experiences], the same operating system [beliefs & expectations]... only—

you can move. You can do things, make things happen.

Restarting is a delicious breath of air going into every cell of, feeding me—so that I can do what I do:

  • make images
  • make it easier for other people to do their thing
  • make space for conversation

I have been struggling with that question "So, what do you do?" forever. 


Turns out, I just needed a restart.