Tag: me
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Like Group Norms with Better Lighting
There’s that famous scene in Monty Python’s Life of Brian where Brian tells the crowd they are all individuals and shouldn’t follow anyone. The crowd immediately responds, in unison, that they are all individuals. Then one guy quietly disagrees… and the crowd tells him to shut up. “You don’t need to follow anybody. You’ve got…
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Just How God Made Me… I Wonder If He Has Regrets
Have you ever wondered why people are the way they are? Why some people can sit quietly for hours, perfectly content with their own thoughts, while others seem physically incapable of leaving a question unanswered? Why some people are naturally cautious and measured, while others see a perfectly reasonable situation and immediately think, “I wonder…
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Who Am I…?
Who am I? That should be a simple question. It isn’t. I’ve spent a lifetime becoming someone, although I’m not entirely sure there was ever a plan. I have accumulated identities the way a workbench accumulates tools, scraps of wood, loose screws, half-finished projects, and things I am absolutely certain I will need someday. I’ve…
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Conflicting Operating Protocols
I can’t sleep… and I know virtually everyone on this planet at some point in their existence experiences this. Many will see this as a recurring event. For me? It is an existential truth. There is an interesting moment each night for me—the point where my neurodivergent brain meets the absolute absence of energy left…
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Pass the Brown Bean Juice.
If someone were tasked with writing my owner’s manual, the first page would contain one very important warning: Do not operate before coffee. I’ve learned a few things about myself over the years. Some are admirable. Some… not so much. But one truth has become impossible to ignore. I don’t ask for much from life.…
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A Manual Selfie of Sorts
Self-portraits… a manual selfie of sorts. When the world gets quiet, my thoughts usually don’t. Today, they settled on the only subject I know from the inside out: me, and the journey that’s brought me to this moment on the third rock from the sun. No what-ifs. No forecasts. No reinventions. Just who I am…
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The Many Forms of Me: A Field Guide to Productivity, Procrastination, and Becoming a Potato
The human brain is an incredible machine. Mine is apparently a slightly modified version assembled from spare parts, caffeine, unfinished ideas, and a committee of tiny monkeys who were hired without references. It is capable of creativity, problem-solving, deep focus, and occasional brilliance. It is also capable of walking into a room, forgetting why, opening…
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How Curiosity and Creativity Became the Story of My Life
I don’t remember deciding to become a creative person. I think I just never stopped being a curious kid. Like every toddler, I was convinced the world existed solely for my investigation. Everything deserved to be touched, tasted, shaken, stacked, thrown, or, if possible, taken apart. My parents probably called it “getting into things.” I…
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Elegance in Monochrome
Right now, I see myself in black and white—as if life pressed pause on everything unnecessary,leaving only what’s real enough to hold its shape in light and shadow. This is me channeling the elegance of the Charros of Mexico’s golden era—when presence meant everything, and even silence carried dignity. This is an older photo, but…
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Life Is A Notebook
I came across this idea the other day, and it stayed with me longer than I expected— the kind of thought that doesn’t just pass through, but settles in. Maybe it’s the way we hold onto moments—like scraps of paper, like old notebooks tucked away in drawers. Every now and then, something reminds you that…
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Mariachi Me… Same Traje, Different Mileage
Being a Mariachi isn’t just about the music. It’s about what you carry before you ever play a note. The traje—sharp, tailored, unmistakable—has a way of teaching you that. At first, it feels like a costume. Something you put on to look the part. The shine, the stitching, the silver botonadura, the way it commands…
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Little-Known Facts About Me
If you look back long enough, you start to notice the strange little things that were always there. Not the big milestones. Not the obvious moments. The quieter details— the ones that didn’t make sense at the time, but somehow explain everything now. I don’t usually sit around listing facts about myself. Feels a little…
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The Making of the Self – Layer by Layer
It doesn’t begin with clarity. It begins in fragments.A shadow here.A rough line there.An outline that almost feels like you—but not quite. You step back.Tilt your head.Erase a little.Darken something you were afraid to see. And slowly… it starts to emerge.Not the version you imagined—but the one that’s honest. The lines aren’t perfect.They’re restless.Smudged in…
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Throwing Words Into the Wind
Let me tell you a story…something I learned about myself, and only fully recently acknowledged. This won’t be a confession of weakness, nor a tale of courage or inner strength. Those are just labels. And the truth is, labels are strangers to far more people like me than most realize. If anything, this story is…
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Beer Sunset…
The kind where the day exhales slowly, where the bottle sweats in your hand like it’s been working just as hard as you have, and the sky turns that dusty orange you only notice when you finally stop moving. It’s porch steps and quiet conversations. It’s the hum of distant traffic mixing with crickets warming…