Freewriting

Handwritten field notes from the notebooks. Stream-of-consciousness sessions where the pen makes its own journey: raw, unfiltered, unedited. The point is to mine what is drifting below the surface, not to polish.

66 posts • Page 2 of 4

The opening of the February 4 handwritten entry: a chill February wind blows.
• 2 min

Where the Wind Is Blowing From

A chill February wind drives me indoors to the kitchen table, where the cat already has the best spot. Then lacing up: assess conditions, know which plays work in which climate, and dive in.

The opening of the February 3 handwritten entry: Wow, holy smokes Batman! Interesting day.
• 2 min

Shot Out of a Cannon

Shot out of a cannon and straight into a rocketship, then the afterthoughts: produce, build, test, learn. A leaf blower breaks the peace, and the writer steps out of the way to catch the signal.

The February 2 handwritten entry: sitting in the warmth of the winter's afternoon south setting sun.
• 1 min

A Quiet Like This

A winter afternoon, the low south sun, and the house quiet in a way it has not been for days. Almost too quiet, and interesting to write under different circumstances with a black pen.

The opening of the February 1 handwritten entry: it's brisk but the sun is warming in the cold winter.
• 5 min

A Hug From the Universe

Winter sun, a neighbor's barking dog, and a hug from the universe that urges me onward. Then an idea gets its name: situational governance, a meta governor for reading the climate of any arena.

The closing lines of the handwritten entry: waves you can look into, and a work that must be incomplete for most of its life before it comes out from hiding.
• 5 min

Finding Coherence: AI, Craft, and Creative Freedom

Freewriting on AI and the maker's prejudice: creator, original, or regurgitation. Breath and the motion of ink, and a work that stays incomplete for most of its life before it comes out from hiding.

The last handwritten page: the artist, time decay, and the stars, with the closing line written up the margin: darkness all around and know the stars are the guide posts.
• 7 min

So Heavy Right Now: Breath, Rhythm, and Examined Life

So heavy right now it's best just to focus on the basics. On relinquishing control, coming back to breath and posture, steady rhythm, and being investigator to the human condition. A life examined, hopefully well-lived.

A full notebook page of blue cursive dated January 22nd, 2026, with a section headed Rock 'n' Roll in the lower half.
• 3 min

Hormesis, Universe, and Late-Night Flow

Blue ink at 1:38am while an AI agent works on the Astro site. Hormesis, a declaration on God and the Universe, and a game of how clean and uniform the handwriting can get.

The opening of the January 20 handwritten entry: black ink, a Monday that was not quite a Monday.
• 3 min

Triple Bullseye

Black ink, a Tuesday that feels like a Monday, two calls at once and no lunch. More throughput this year, the goals set, the targets hit: thwack, thwack, thwack, triple bullseye.

The opening of the January 19 handwritten entry: this morning like other mornings was just another morning.
• 9 min

Aboard a Planet Hurtling Through Space

Letters looking sharper, Betelgeuse so dearly red, a ship built with redundant systems, and why we talk of life on land while riding a planet through space. Then a new pen and grade school ink.

The opening of the January 18 handwritten entry: as much as I would like to start off running this is a nod to balance.
• 4 min

Ghostbusters of the Mind

Keeping the needle moving across the record: thought capture as ghostbusting, writing sessions as a search for precious metals, and birdsong on a cold Sunday of a three-day weekend.

The January 17 handwritten page with sketches: redundant systems are part of good antifragile protocols.
• 1 min

Ice Builds in the Shadows

Redundant systems and optionality, like enough space heaters for when the furnace goes out. Then back to letters in the winter sun, where warmth reaches some places and ice builds in the shadows.

The January 15 handwritten entry, with a line of mirror writing above: time to go into mining mode.
• 3 min

Mining Mode

Time to go into mining mode: good posture, deep breath, a purposeful pace, pages written in the hope of striking some unique thought. Then zoom, zoom, vroom while a conversation is summarized.

The opening of the January 13 handwritten entry: Yes. Hello. This is nice.
• 2 min

Skis Cutting Through Powder

After a day at the computer, ink on the page as a more natural pathway: systems within systems, writing like a dance, and letters sliding across the page like skis cutting through powder.

The opening of the January 3 handwritten entry: Take off. A perfectly timed take-off and here we go back home.
• 5 min

How Much We Have Traveled

A take-off into the new year, markets and regimes, then the pen wanders out: the planet as a living vessel with certain trajectory, and time measured by how much we have traveled.

The opening of the January 1 handwritten entry: I have reached 2026 and the New Year.
• 5 min

I've Reached 2026 and the New Year

The first day of 2026 with a tired mind: the sea, memory, people as stars, money and markets, and a plan to make the business a success with Hansuru and antifragile thinking behind it.

The December 31 handwritten entry: Back with the Uniball, thick, rich ink flowing out, with the first lines of January 1 below it.
• 1 min

Back with the Uniball

The last night of 2025, back with the Uniball: breath, relaxed shoulders, a steady line, and the stroke of an imagined kayak paddle. The page stops mid-sentence as the new year begins.

The opening of the December 17 handwritten entry: Well Hello Wednesday! And here we go into some flow, flow, flow!
• 13 min

The Raw Thoughts of a Biological LLM

Four December days in one notebook: flow and the pen, the raw thoughts of a biological LLM, motion as the breath of the universe, and a search for the source of new thoughts, like new rock.

A notebook page of black cursive dated October 25th, 2025, with a place name blacked out, that opens: Fall is here in the hills.
• 6 min

Cosmic Motion and Human Perspective

Fall in the hills, Fomalhaut and the third phase of a decan, then the numbers of our motion: the spinning earth, its orbit, the sun around the galaxy, and the pull toward the Great Attractor.