ABOUT | My Site

I didn’t arrive at play through confidence.

I arrived through a quiet descent into depression.

Somewhere along the way, my breath got shallow and my thinking got loud.

Life became something to manage instead of inhabit.

What saved me wasn’t answers —
it was play.

Not productive play.

Not impressive play.

The kind that loosens the breath before the brain catches up.

Sometimes that play is serious.

Sometimes it’s strange.

Sometimes it’s unintentionally funny.

I’m drawn to people who create from the body —
musicians, especially.

I’m not musically inclined, but I recognize the way something moves through them.

I’m inspired by high art and low art, living artists and dead ones, people who change the shape of the canvas or play publicly without asking permission.

What they share isn’t polish.

It’s aliveness.

Sometimes that aliveness is profound.

Sometimes it’s ridiculous.

Often it’s both.

I believe life, like art, is experimental.

I don’t trust perfection.

I trust breath.

When I stop playing, my brain tightens.

When I play, something opens — and ideas start misbehaving.

This work isn’t about becoming creative.

It’s about remembering what happens when you stop shutting down the impulse to try.

If something here sparks a strange little idea, the kind that feels unnecessary and delightful,
follow it.

You don’t have to make it useful.

You don’t have to get it right.

You’re allowed to play just because it makes you happy.

Sometimes that’s how meaning sneaks back in.

Sometimes it’s just fun.

Both count.