A statement about social platforms presented as a thread on a fictional social platform. Gosh, I just adore Robin Sloan.
He did not care if you were a bestseller or a receptionist, a nobel prize winner or a janitor, or where you went to school. You liked books or didn’t.
A lovely ode to Micheal Seidenberg of Brazenhead Books. The beloved secret NYC bookstore.
Consistently surprised how well the brain hack of simply deciding, “Going to [place] to do [thing]” works for my productivity. Even if I’m simply relocating to another area of the same house. I always manage to get [things] done forthwith whenever I do.
Watching some harness racing. We don’t gamble so just enjoying a night on the patio watching these amazing horses run by.
There is so much to love and learn from in the latest issue of Craig Mod’s newsletter (Ridgeline issue 027) that I could quote a comment on the entire thing. That said, it was the following paragraph I hand-copied into my journal this morning:
It’s not that I wanted to go on a long walk, it’s that I wanted to become more of a walker. A walker in the professional sense, the committed sense. Or — zooming out further still — perhaps not even become a walker but become someone who fights — within the flimsy framework of their own life — for extended stretches of thinking-time. And not just fights but believes in the fight, the value, of that time, and believes in what can come out of it.
This can apply to all things. For example, I’ve been historically off and on about keeping a journal. My most recent success with being consistent with doing so has come from adopting a similar mindset as the above. I decided I want to be a Journaler instead of someone who keeps a journal. A seemingly minor yet very important distinction. One is simply an act that you perform. The other is WHO YOU ARE. I’m casting a vote for that identity every single time I commit pen to page in this manner. I fight for the time in my day to be that person.
Seriously, Craig’s is another newsletter that brings tremendous value every single issue. Well worth a place in your inbox.
This morning: Journaling and logging.
The Underwood No. 5 all cleaned up, oiled up, and on my desk ready to type. Now able to see the serial number, which was covered with dust and rust and therefore an now able to date it: 1907. Just typed a letter on it and it works great.