Edition IV: What Miyazaki, Cowboy Bebop, and anime worlds taught me about presence and place. I didn’t arrive at anime through film school or deep fandom. Like a lot of kids growing up in the late 90s and early 2000s, it started with whatever happened to be on. After
Project Ledger I: Not everything here is physical. Some of what’s being built feels less like construction and more like incubation. Ideas sitting for a while before they show any real signs of life. You don’t always know what they are at first, just that something’s there.
Field Note I: I didn't grow up skiing. For most of my life winter was something to get through, not enter into. I live in Michigan and never even considered it. Snow meant shoveling the driveway, gray skies, and counting weeks until spring. Winter was endured, not used.
Edition III: Most people live in modes: Work Mode, Family Mode, Personal Time, Errands, Rest, and Hobbies We move between them all day, like rooms in a building where the doors must close behind us before the next one can open. Each mode asks for a different version of us.
Edition II: Not every meaningful place announces itself. Some of them only appear after you've stood there long enough. There's a difference between the places we use and the places that slowly begin to hold us. Most spaces in daily life are built for function: pass
Edition I: Some forms of absence look exactly like dedication. There was a period where I thought I had presence figured out. I was focused, disciplined, absorbed in work that mattered to me. In my mind, presence meant being fully inside what I was doing; undistracted, committed, and unavailable in