Memories of Kent
A letter to Kent, recounting memories that have made a lasting impression on me.
Natal Chart Report
Because astrology is on point.
At 30, dealing with my first family death
Grandpa Kent Wrench is dying as I write this, and I'm 2,800 miles away and emotionally detached.
Tell stories that matter
When we start to realize that we’re not going to be here forever, we become aware that it’s not clear what it meant to be here at all. —David Solie Right now, in this moment, I can articulate what matters [...]
A soccer phenom is born
Learning to do the rainbow took me about 6 months. Let's see what can be accomplished in 6 seconds.
Summer and Fall 2012
Some of the best photos and memories from last year.
Nothingness and randomness cannot exist, but what about infinity?
I've been working on a thought experiment regarding the existence of 'nothingness', 'randomness', and 'particles'. I'm stuck at a paradox.
Hiking the Marin Headlands
It took me two years to since moving to the Bay Area to go hiking in the Marin Headlands, but wow, I'm sure glad I finally went—it's incredibly beautiful, with rolling, rocky, mountainous countryside that's vaguely reminiscent of Scotland, for those who have never been. And seeing the Pacific Ocean from those heights gave me a smidgeon of an idea of just how unfathomably large that horizon actually is.
Day Eleven
It's two hours before midnight on the last day of my break, which means my last post for this project. Corinne is laying in bed next to me, watching me type this, which is sort of weird because it's like I'm talking to her, but not. Anyway, a big part of why I haven't written much since May is because I've been busy doing things with the people around me that are a part of my life. We're making memories, making relationships, making sense, making out, making apps, making code, making drinks, making conversation, making dinner, making stories that we tell other people who couldn't be there with us
Day Ten
Corinne came home today from her two week visit with her family in Connecticut. I woke up at 10:30—which was pretty good for me since I've been keeping such a weird sleeping schedule—and cleaned up the apartment since I knew I'd be staying at Corinne's for the next couple days and didn't want my roommate to come home to a cluttered dining room table and dirty dishes. Also, some guy with a typewriter, named Zach Houston, wrote us a poem.
See full list of Musings