Turning 38 – Reflections on Success, Travel, Generalism and Relationships

Another year in the books! This one certainly raced past. All in all it was a great year and I’ve got a lot to be grateful for. The world properly re-opened. Work has been good. I’ve had a series of exciting successes. Some difficult family health issues that arose ended up being resolved positively. I continue to love Copenhagen and I’ve enjoyed some fantastic travels.

So, what’s this post? As some of you have now come to anticipate – every year I publish a birthday reflection post. I hope you’ll enjoy these thoughts and take them for what they are – an attempt to share the world as I see it and how I relate to it. It’s a mixture of observations, musings, reflections, and advice. They’re extremely long and by all rights if I just broke them up into individual posts, I’d have more than 4 posts a year. But, this is the approach I’m sticking with and which actually gets pen-to-paper. Skip around, jump to what looks interesting, or take it from cover to cover. Your call =)

You can view my 37th birthday post here, 36th birthday post here, 35th birthday post here, 34th birthday post here, 33rd birthday post here, 32nd birthday post here, 31st birthday post here, my more detailed 30th birthday post here, my musings on turning 29 here, or 28 here. As well as a long-forgotten blog post written on my 23rd birthday (wow, have I really been blogging that long?) which you can view here.

A National Geographic Honorable Mention

Growing up I was deeply inspired by National Geographic like so many others. They gave me glimpses into the stunning diversity and beauty of the world. Its people, its flavors, its natural landscapes. Just the thought of that wide-eyed childish delight and curiosity still invokes goosebumps to this day. At some level, the pursuit of that sense of constant wonder and awe is what drives my passion for travel and helps me intentionally shape how I think about it and approach it. That “National Geographic” semi-photojournalistic approach has also deeply inspired my approach to photography.

When I edit my work I’m very intentional about not adding or removing anything that changes the scene. Many non-photographers would be surprised to learn that there’s a raging debate within photographic circles on what is an acceptable edit, how to edit, and how much you should disclose. Is it OK to remove a piece of trash or an errant bush? Is it OK to swap the sky out from the same location a few hours later? Or a different location altogether? Is it OK to add a bird, or rays of light? What about coloration?

With my work, you’ll find that it’s less dramatic, pops less, and at times may lack some of the intensity that you’ll find on Instagram. But, that’s also because I’ve made the decision to focus on a photo-journalistic, National Geographic-inspired approach. I never remove anything other than lens spots. I never add anything. I rarely focus stack and I never composite. Instead, I focus on enhancing the light that was there in the original moment, bringing out the contrast and making it as photo-realistic to the original scene as I can. It’s something that I simultaneously take a lot of pride in, and find to be a source of deep frustration. In the Instagram era, it’s so easy to hold our photos up side by side with those that are heavily enhanced, composited, retouched, or polished to perfection and feel inadequate. Particularly when it’s anything but clear just what changes have been made.

For National Geographic’s 2022 Picture of the Year photo contest, they set out a series of rigorous requirements. Including the ability to provide a RAW, unedited version of the photo for verification. This lets them check to confirm no substantive changes have been made, and that the photo is…well…a real photo and not a composited fiction.

It’s because of this context – both the historical inspirational dimension, and the focus on equality – that I was incredibly honored to have my photo selected as one of 9 “Honorable Mentions” in this year’s National Geographic Pictures of the Year awards. The photo, which is of a golden autumnal tree viewed through silver tree trunks against a background of green, is one I made during David and my Austrian road trip in October.

This was, quite honestly, a high watermark for my photography career and an incredible honor. It was also incredible to see the our final photos featured across a wide range of media, including CNBC, Good Morning America, People Magazine and many more.

Thanks to everyone who has commented and reached out about the photo. And at a deeper level, thanks to everyone who has been so supportive of my photo journey and photography more broadly over the years. As I’ve talked about, I find deep pleasure in it, but also battle heavily with imposter syndrome around it. So it’s always a game of mental tug of war and your comments, and sharing how the photos inspire or impact you is deeply impactful for me!

A New Found Fascination with Etchings

I’ve long adored old maps, particularly the type with blank sections and sea monsters artfully sketched in to fill gaps. But, after an exhibit about Giovanni Battista Piranesi at the Danish State Museum for Art, a newfound interest in Etchings has blossomed.

What are etchings?

Etchings were a highly manual precursor to modern prints and they rose to popularity throughout the seventeenth, eighteenth, and early nineteenth century. Apparently, the technique was first perfected in the fourteenth/fifteenth century as a way to decorate armor (MET).

Essentially you coat a piece of copper in wax, then delicately carve away the wax to create your piece of art. Once you’ve removed those lines of wax, you take the final piece, dip it in acid, and the acid etches lines in where the wax has been removed. From there, you take your copper plate, clean it, coat it in ink, rub the ink off, and then run the plate with a piece of paper on top, through a press under a significant amount of pressure. This forces the paper down into the lines filled with ink, and transfers it onto the paper. You can see a walk-through in this article from the MET Museum.

What do I find fascinating about them?

In addition to the process which was used to create these works of art, and the visual style that is present in many of the masterpieces, I’m captivated by their accessibility and the magic of the world they present.

Many of these etchings present sometimes realistic, sometimes fanciful depictions of Europe and the Middle East during the age of exploration. More than that, they appeal to my love of realism as a visual style, paired with views of archeological wonders and daily life which had already been renovated or destroyed by the time the age of photography came along.

While oil paintings from the 1600s and 1700s are difficult to access, expensive, and are often damaged or deteriorated – these etchings have held up incredibly well. They’re an interesting transitional artifact. Something that was valued and treasured as a piece of considerable value, art, and rarity across multiple centuries. But then, as technology – namely photography and printing – evolved, became less of interest, less rare, and fell by the wayside.

It’s a fascinating opportunity to pick up stunning work, with a blend of deep history and artistry, that is hundreds of years old. And, while works like Piranesi’s currently sell for hundreds of dollars – throughout Europe other etchings are sold off for less than the price of a postcard.

There’s something that gives me goosebumps when getting lost in the details of some of these etchings. I also love that on an authentic etching you can see a sort of framing-like effect where the press for the primary image was applied and the paper was squashed thin and smooth.

So, now I’m out on the hunt. Checking stores, watching FB marketplace, and wondering when and where I’ll find an etching or two that speaks to me enough to find its way to my wall.

Pivot with Confidence

Growing up, traveling on a tight budget helped us to do things that were far outside the norm. It meant sneaking a camping stove into hotels with us to cook simple dinners, more ham sandwiches than I care to remember, and splitting a single Whopper Meal soda and fries supplemented with 3 $1 whoppers between the four of us. As a young kid, it was at times a bit embarrassing. As an adult, I appreciate just how much freedom and opportunity that bought us and the power of it.

At the same time, I also grew up with a very strong set of values around commitment. If I say I’ll be somewhere, or have booked something – it’s quite uncomfortable for me to skip/cancel. More than that, it often doesn’t even register as a possibility. It’s a trait I’m proud of, and which generally serves me quite well.

Cue travel and the ‘sunk cost fallacy’. Over time, I’ve become increasingly aware that while those two traits are generally very positive and beneficial – they make me particularly susceptible to the sunk cost fallacy. Or, to put it differently, the belief that because a certain amount of money or time is invested, you have to see that through rather than investing more money or time to make a change. In a travel context, this means that because I’ve spent money to get to a destination, or potentially booked a hotel for multiple nights, or have an outbound flight in X days – that I should suck it up, and stay in that destination/at that hotel/in that area/take that flight even if I dislike the area, am unhappy, or have other concerns. Layer on top that there would be an added cost (eg re-booking another hotel or an additional flight) and you’ve got a prime case of the sunk cost fallacy consuming valuable time and energy and costing me potential opportunities for deeper and more positive enjoyment.

This past year I decided to be more aware of this tendency, to overpower it, and instead prioritize time, enjoyment, and safety. This led to two instances where I deployed the new approach and both affirmed the decision.

Vietnam

The first was in Vietnam during my Easter trip. The country had just re-opened from their pandemic lockdown. I had roughly two weeks, and was traveling relatively spur of the moment. I adore Vietnam. The people are incredible, the nature is stunning, the food and culture are beyond compare. But, as I looked at places to visit after I spent a few days in Hanoi and Tam Coc, I heard Da Nang was decent, and Hoi An was fantastic. I booked a cheap flight from Hanoi to Da Nang and booked a two night stay just off the beach for $15 a night.

The flight went smoothly, the taxi out to the hotel was easy, and the hotel room itself was nice. Even the beach was decent. But, the city? I hated it. It felt like everything I dislike about a fusion of Dubai and Las Vegas. After checking in, I took an hour and a half to walk the beach and local strip and to find some food. By the time I got back to the hotel I could feel I was done with the city. But, I still had more than a day and a half booked. Ordinarily, I’d force myself to sit in the hotel, to try and make the best of it, and to wait out the clock. Luckily, when I chatted that evening with friends who had been to the area they uniformly said – go to Hoi An. It’s different, it’s better, you’ll like it more.

Before long I’d booked accommodation for the following evening, checked the cost of a Gab the 45 minutes down the coast (Uber), and decided I’d abandon the second evening in Da Nang. The whole thing felt uncomfortable. It felt like I was doing something wrong. Particularly as I went to check out of the hotel – even though I was eating the cost of that 2nd night – thoughts of the potential insult and message I might be sending to the hotel owners raced through my mind. Still, all went smoothly, the cab ride down to Hoi An was pleasant. And then, true to promise, I had an incredible time in Hoi An. I went from unhappy in a shitty version of Vegas, to sitting in a lovely quiet accommodation 100m off a deserted beach, in a small one-lane beachside town with incredible food, and a quick 15-minute scooter ride to one of Vietnam’s most iconic and beautiful old towns.

In total? The pivot cost me about $30, saved me a day and a half, and led to a much, much happier experience. If I hadn’t made the pivot and waited out my reservation in Da Nang, it was a 50/50 chance that I’d have opted to just jump via air back to Hanoi or another city/region instead of rolling the dice further and heading down to Hoi An.

Lesson learned.

Turkey, Quakes, Tragedy and a Pivot to Italy

Fast forward almost a year to February in Istanbul. For close to a decade I’ve been eager to get out to the Turkish city of Van and surrounding area, as well as the ruins of Gaziantep in the south. Each time I’ve looked at it, various issues have arisen. Earthquakes, crippling cold spells, the conflict in Syria, safety concerns, and – as fate would have it, an earthquake once again.

From past trips I knew that flights inside Turkey tend to be quite cheap and can be booked last minute – not unlike Asia and parts of Europe. So for this trip I decided I’d head to Turkey, then jump out to either Van or Gaziantep and consider renting a car / exploring the area and doing a bit of winter photography. However, having been in Turkey during a particularly rough cold spell a few years earlier where it was -24C, I wanted to ask around a bit and check conditions before making my final choice.

My initial plan was to land in Istanbul, overnight, then book onward to one of the cities, explore the area, then eventually close the trip out with 2 or 3 days at the end in Istanbul before flying back to Copenhagen. As luck had it, the trip in from the Airport was deeply frustrating and led to my now chronic negative and frustrating interactions with a dishonest taxi driver. I also didn’t realize through outdated knowledge and poor research that the old IST airport had been closed and moved, and the SAW airport was now connected via metro and not just an inconvenient bus.

This all led me to re-organize the trip, and to decide to spend more time in Istanbul at the front end vs flying straight to the south, with the expectation that I’d fly back into SAW from the south, and then stay in the immediate area around the airport before catching my flight home. The prospect of the 1.5 hour trip to get into the town, frustration, and cost – was all just unnecessary.

Little did I know, that this was a profoundly lucky decision and that my mistake saved me from potentially getting caught in a horrific natural and human disaster killing tens of thousands of people.

With rather miserable weather I chuckled and spent Sunday wandering the city. The winds were howling and gusting with flurries of snow. So bad in fact, that flights the following two days started to get canceled due to the winter storm. This just re-affirmed my decision to wait to book as I eyed Wednesday of that week for my trip to the south or east. On Monday morning I woke to news of unfolding disaster and tragedy. The February 6th series of quakes had struck and decimated the region around Gaziantep (these ultimately killed more than 50,000 people).

I read with horror and watched the clips of the area. Acutely aware that if not for luck and a few coin-flip decisions, I might have been there in the heart of the disaster. Following the news, I carried on and re-visited some of my favorite parts of Istanbul. I took the ferry across to the Asian side in the driving snow. Got a $15 SIM card sorted. And then as I sat in a small restaurant having a late lunch, and assuring friends that Istanbul was safe and untouched I read about a second massive quake in the south. It was bad. The clips made it clear that the toll would be horrific and conditions for survivors now homeless in the freezng cold, were dire.

All I could do was scroll through the news, donate, and assure friends Istanbul was untouched. I also sat and asked myself what I could do? I lacked the skills or ability to contribute meaningfully beyond donating to the Red Cross. And the last thing they needed was a foreigner getting in the way. Van and the areas to the far east had been impacted but to a lesser degree – Turkey is a giant country. Should I continue my trip and head out there doing what I could to help support the local economy? Should I stay in Istanbul – an incredible city but one I’d already explored previously fairly exhaustively?

The footage of collapsed stone buildings and pancaked accommodation also weighed heavily on me. My hotel was in the ancient district of Sulthanamet, an old building and sat at the base of a 1,500 year old stone retaining wall. The hotel was just around the corner from the Hagia Sophia Mosque which, as a church in 600 AD had its dome collapse during an earthquake. Istanbul itself sits at the famed meeting between the European and Asian plates – different from the plates responsible for the quake in the south, but still connected. It’s a city that has gone a long time without a quake, but when one strikes – it will strike a city of 20 million people loaded with historic buildings.

I also knew that a huge influx of aid and volunteers would flow into Turkey, overwhelming airfare, transit, and everything related. The reality was, I didn’t need to be there. Even if I mostly felt safe in Istanbul, it was stressing family and friends out, the weather was miserable, and conditions were only set to deteriorate. So, I started to research. I looked at trips to the north along the border with Bulgaria and what train or bus options were there, and then I started looking at flights. Flights home? Flights to the UAE, Flights to Italy and beyond…

By the time I took the ferry back across from the Asian side to the European side, walked a bit and reached my hotel, I’d settled on a plan. I wasn’t going to just call it quits and move up my flight back to Copenhagen, and I wasn’t going to sit in Istanbul and spend a week hiding from the snow with a sense of impending dread. Instead, for $80 I could change my departure flight and move it from Istanbul to Copenhagen the following weekend and book from Istanbul to Milan for 8AM the following morning instead. Then, from Milan I’d rent a car, drive the Dolomites for 5 days and then return from Milan with a cheap Ryan Air ticket from Milan to Copenhagen. I checked car rentals, confirmed prices, managed to re-book my Milan flight, then booked the Ryan air flight which cost about another 90 Euro.

No sooner had I booked the Ryan Air flight though, than an e-mail from Turkish Air arrived that cryptically implied my flight was canceled. Shit. The better part of two hours and a few troubleshooting calls later, I confirmed the flight was canceled and that they’d re-book me to Venice instead, which appeared to be going. At this point, I was committed to getting out of Istanbul ASAP. Ryan Air being Ryan Air, wouldn’t touch my reservation or cancel it, despite the proximity to the booking. Which now left me with an updated flight for the following morning from IST to Venice, and a flight for the end of the week from Milan to Copenhagen.

I got a bite to eat, and then spent another hour and a half trying to figure out why I couldn’t check in and if the Venice flight that I had to leave for the airport for at 4:30AM was actually going to go. Sure enough, around 1AM I got confirmation it was delayed but would go and I should still arrive at the regular time. All fair! After all, the northern part of the country was still shrugging off a heavy snow storm with 200+ flight cancelations and gearing up to tackle the humanitarian crisis in the south.

Cue a 4:30 AM fight with another dishonest taxi driver that includes me having to threaten to call the police and at 5:30 arrival at the airport safe and sound. I got checked in, confirmed my flight, and then with ticket in hand, set to securing the two remaining pieces of my travel itinerary. A car booking in Venice and a flight from Venice back to Copenhagen. I found a $64 car rental (which came to $123 by the time I added insurance and a shady “washing” fee) for 5 days. I then used my SAS Eurobonus points (15,000 points and 22 Euro) to book a ticket from Venice to Copenhagen. This required that I abandon my shitty Ryan Air flight from Milan to Copenhagen.

What followed was an incredible 5 days of sun, peaceful recharging in the mountains, incredible road trip exploration, amazing photographs, and pure joyful contentment. It was also made that much richer and overflowing with gratitude precisely because it was framed against the backdrop of the Turkish tragedy.

So, why put this in the Sunk Cost Fallacy section? For about $200 I was able to pivot away from terrible weather, a natural disaster, a ton of anxiety-inducing uncertainty, and a week of lost vacation and turn it into a positive trip. While $200 is still a considerable amount of money, it’s well within my means to “Eat” and it bought me significantly more happiness and utility. But, it was, at some level, still quite a process for me to be OK with walking away from the $15 SIM card i’d bought for the week, the Ryan Air flight from Milan I couldn’t use, the change fee to update my flight, etc.

My takeaway? Be smart, but be willing to act and focus on the utility and the outcome you’re optimizing for. Be flexible, and embrace the path most likely to deliver positive outcomes.

The Power of Goodwill

Goodwill and Social Capital are central themes I use to understand the world. They have shaped my research over the years, and serve as some of the best tools out there to explain seismic shifts in sentiment, reputation and leeway granted to individuals and organizations.

To rehash what’s Goodwill? It essentially boils down to your social credibility and the perceptive lens your actions are viewed through. What’s Social Capital? Essentially how much of that social credibility you have banked or associated with you and how you can activate that capital for certain outcomes.

If I have a high amount of social capital and goodwill, am at the local restaurant, and forget my wallet – the restaurant owner is likely to let me pay the following day or will trust me to leave, get the money, and come back without any collateral or concern. If I have neutral or negative social capital or goodwill – that’s not only not an option, but my lack of a wallet to pay, is likely to be seen as an attempt to scam the restaurant.

As an added dimension, the loss of goodwill – let’s say you had it, you had trust, and then you exploited that trust or changed your behavior – tends to have a significantly stronger reaction than if you just started and stayed at a neutral level. Why? Because it leaves those who trusted you feeling betrayed. In that way, the loss of goodwill also results in a dramatic loss of social capital.

In recent years Facebook and Google were able to grow exponentially and granted spectacular freedom to operate in large part because they were generating an enormous amount of goodwill and had banked deep reserves of social capital. The likes of Cambridge Analytica for Facebook, and Google’s pivot away from Do No Evil to…well…we stalk you on the toilet, and consistently fail every moral test that comes our way – took a long time to burn through that goodwill and social capital.

When that was exhausted, things that were previously tolerated and given the benefit of the doubt suddenly became red lines. Regulation and anti-trust slam home, new laws are proposed, users continue to use services but with distrust and regret via a feeling of locked in vs. excitement. And when this happens it is sudden and it is particularly shocking for the groups who don’t realize that the rules have changed and the expectations for them have also changed. This in turn leads to major missteps, like we’ve seen from Zuckerberg and Facebook, and it takes years to right the ship and adjust to the new rule-set. You’ll still have two groups of loyalists – though they’ll be significantly reduced in size; individuals who think they can get something out of the relationship and seek to exploit it, and true believers, who still harbor that goodwill.

Musk’s meteoric implosion over the past year is another prime example of this in action. Over the course of 10 months we saw the rapid dismantling of unfounded or misleading mythology around him evaporate as goodwill evaporated and the loss of his social capital led to people taking a more critical look at his actions, his approach, and how his narratives matched to reality.

As an individual he was able to build his companies and ensure the success of each new venture by capitalizing on and exploiting the enormous amount of goodwill and social capital he had accrued. That, in turn, served as a sort of fly-wheel to further amplify and affirm that goodwill and build more capital. For years, this allowed him to receive the benefit of the doubt – it seemed like he was flawed but trending toward societally improving behaviors and good. Until, of course, he wasn’t.

Suddenly deadlines being missed by years were not just accepted as innovation hitting a hitch, they were recognized as intentionally misleading lies and marketing stunts. Gross HR violations and ethical lapses transitioned from assumed oversights coming from an incredibly hard working but well intentioned individual into being recognized as grossly predatory, illegal, and disingenuous exploitative behavior. An individual perceived as a great inventor creating incredible innovations transitioned into a great grifter with virtually no inventions to his name, with an incredible skill for process improvement, packaging, and promotion while claiming credit.

For Musk, his lack of understanding and appreciation for just how dependent he has been on goodwill also led to him lashing out and accelerating the further erosion of that goodwill. In these cases, groups or individuals that experienced long runs of goodwill with deep social capital, feel like any reduction in the benefits and trust they received as a result, is unjust persecution rather than the natural result of their own breach of trust. They lash out. They double down. They claim injustice. But, it’s none of that. It’s just a new degree of accountability and an erosion in goodwill and social capital.

This is in no way to say that we shouldn’t embrace goodwill and that we should distrust organizations and individuals who accrue significant social capital. It’s just to observe that these whiplash moments where social capital evaporates and goodwill reverses don’t come out of nowhere, and follow an interesting pattern. Seeing the world, especially tech, innovation, and social luminaries through this lens goes a long way to help explain sudden changes, major threats, and why these orgs or individuals seemingly make such devastatingly ill-advised comments and actions as the environment changes.

We all live and operate in a world that is shaped by Goodwill. From our relationships to our professional status. It’s something we can all incorporate as well in both how we move through the world and how we interact and engage with others.

The Allure of Conspiracy is a False Sense of Expertise

I’m fascinated, frustrated, exasperated, alarmed and saddened by conspiracy theories. A year or two ago I discovered the Conspiracy Theory Handbook by Stephan Lewandowsky and John Cook which is, to this day, the single best take on analyzing and responding to conspiracy theories. Unfortunately, conspiracy theories are everywhere and outside of academic and scientific circles, it seems many of these conspiracy theories have gone so mainstream that they’re essentially the status quo.

And I get it. With popular media voices like Joe Rogan amplifying and capitalizing on every conspiracy theory he can get his hands on to drive views, and a series of algorithms that naturally introduce and funnel people to engaging media that sounds and looks credible – this stuff IS persuasive. It certainly doesn’t help that for years the History Channel elevated pseudoscience and misleading nonsense. A trend that’s only been accelerated and amplified by Netflix and others. I’ve also noticed that my interest in historical content, maps, and old photos on Facebook in fairly short order swaps compelling recommendations for conspiracy nonsense and absolute drivel – truly recommendation engines at their worst.

But, the challenge I always come back to is why? Why do people spend hours upon hours consuming this content. All of which is often content that is riddled with contradictory and sloppy logic. Content that with even a 10-minute search can be debunked or dismantled. And content that muddies the water between real critical challenging of the status quo and a deluge of bullshit.

For a long time, I thought it was essentially about incomplete information or knowledge. And, to some extent, I think that’s still one dimension. The broader your interests, scientific and historical literacy and point of reference, the easier it is to identify and dismantle basic flaws in the arguments, logic, and misrepresentations of history/science/research that go with it. But, that doesn’t explain the deep appeal, and why these conspiracy theories are so sticky.

I’ve come to believe it’s emotional. In a world where things are so complex, so interdependent, so rapidly changing it becomes incredibly compelling to be presented with a story that is empowering. Not only empowering but which conveys a false sense of expertise. In essence, it’s the same mental mechanism as gambling. It doesn’t matter if you know the game is stacked against you. It doesn’t matter if you’re likely to lose. It also doesn’t matter if you lose consistently. If you can find a few select minor wins, that tease the possibility of taking the pot, many people will play and play and play.

After all, if you are an early adopter of a conspiracy theory, you’re betting that your expertise, wit, and privileged access to knowledge gives you greater expertise and access to truth and accuracy than supposed institutional experts. Layer on top of that that science, medicine, and archeology are constantly working to test existing hypothesis/findings, validate them, and then update those models many of which are incredibly complex or still contain significant open-ended questions and … boom. You have a gambler’s delight. That false allure of mastery and expertise, of making an end-run around the experts to slam dunk your way into the halls of Darwin, Copernicus and Galileo.

Of course, the problem is that, that is not the case. The likes of Darwin and Galileo did the work. They worked tirelessly to test and validate their hypothesis, to document them, and to mark exactly how they upended the previously held status quo. Every leading conspiracy theory I’ve come across so far has largely misrepresented history, misrepresented the data, drawn clearly erroneous misrepresentations of the science, and/or been extremely intentional in cherry-picking to support their argument. Unfortunately, the sheer incompetence, subtle perversion and fragmentation of these misrepresentations makes it very easy to tell persuasive narratives.

It’s such an alien approach to the pursuit of knowledge for me, that it baffles me. But, perhaps a recent personality test helps illustrate why. The FirstMind test, similar to what I wrote about in previous years, ranked my top five traits (out of 34) as Researching, Futurist, Learning, Communicating, Contextual. Those traits capture a singular focus on being accurate vs. being perceived as being right. A strong willingness to do research, and an intuitive focus on blending the future and the past through a contextual framework. It gives me significantly more resiliency around topics where we have a lack of certainty or a lot of ambiguity. And, it means that when I’m critically listening or reading conspiracy theories I can’t help but validate them as I go, which rapidly causes them to fall to threads.

What I would encourage everyone to do, is to be more critical in a consistent and coherently structured way. Take that time spent on false research, or directed research in an echo chamber of misrepresentation or omission, and delve deeper. Pull the primary source material, not bad interpretations. Heck. Just follow most of the steps in the Handbook. Otherwise, just as gamblers almost always eventually lose all their money, the chronic conspiracy theorists eventually lose their common sense and credibility even if they gain some small sliver of social capital and credit within equally befuddled circles.

Relationships and the Initiator’s Dilemma

Years ago I noticed that in general people will typically attempt outreach three times before they give up. So, let’s say I move to a new city, make some acquaintances who I really like, and am eager to see. This can be platonic or it can be romantic. But, ultimately if the other group are the dominant initiators they’ll typically extend three invites before they give up.

This can be as simple as, “Hey, let’s meet for a coffee” or “I’ve got a group of friends getting together next weekend, do you want to join?”. While social media and always-on culture has further constrained this in many contexts, I think it still largely holds true. What I realized at the time was that if by that third invitation, you’re even remotely able to join – if you value that potential relationship, it’s essential you do so as it doesn’t matter how good or valid your reason is…if you miss it, human behavior means that person is highly likely to give up on and abandon future invitations.

This can be a big problem in highly structured settings like Denmark where it’s not uncommon that people have their social calendars locked in weeks if not months in advance. It’s also an area of social development that requires that we all collectively be more intentional in our role in the relationship. Even if you have someone who is very content to be the initiator, they’ll only invest so much time and energy before they give up, and you fall out of their focus. From there, it’s purely on you to re-engage or activate meetups or social engagement. Fair enough, right? After all – by the third missed invite, you’ve effectively signaled disinterest or lack of reliability.

More recently, I’ve seen a manifestation of this pop up in both 1:1 conversations and a lot of the social conversation around dating. In particular, this seems to be especially true for women and focuses on a sense of confusion when a romantic interest or partner suddenly seems to disengage. This leaves a lot of women complaining that men who seemed very interested over a series of dates ultimately suddenly get distant and then just stop engaging. It’s a common point of confusion and a fairly widespread source of angst and frustration. It also often gets misread as (in this case men) not having interest and being fleeting in their focus. But, I’d argue that while that’s sometimes the case, far more often something else is at play.

Quite simply? Men stop initiating and driving conversations and activities.

Modern dating has evolved significantly. Roles are becoming more nuanced, opportunity to hold different spaces in the process is evolving and maturing, and the tools have become far more varied. But, you still see, in many cases, a strong imbalance between initiator and responsive parties. One need only look to apps like Bumble that require women reach out first, and the pushback they’ve received. Now, to be fair, I’m focused on a heterosexual context due to my own focus and experience, and can’t speak to how it applies to other groups – but I imagine it’s still much the same between whomever assumes the initiator role and the responsive role.

So, what’s up? In essence men are expected to reach out and initiate with something charming and differentiated. This is only amplified in places like bars or online dating apps. Men are then expected to drive the conversation and keep it interesting. This then naturally feeds into a fairly common cycle where the man continues to drive the conversation proposing potential dates, meeting times, checking in, and various messages – culturally even a good morning text is usually something that you’ll see men expected to initiate.

But, this is exhausting. It’s also frustrating when you have many women who are slow to respond or have a tendency to skip or forget to respond to individual messages. This makes it particularly difficult to navigate if a lack of response or delayed response is an indication of lack of interest, of a competing interest, or simply a busy day or hap-hazard communication.

So, what happens? At a certain point, a lot of men will just stop initiating. This starts in the form of a back and forth approach to messaging. I say something. You say something. I say something. You say something. People will test that chain occasionally to re-start it, as a double – I say something, I say something. But, they won’t do it consistently and they’ll do it incrementally less over time.

Beyond that, over time, men will hold back on initiating new conversational threads. So, where the dynamic was previously that he’s suggested dates, suggested times to meet, and assumed that general role, men will silently just slowly taper that back, and wait to see if women step in and take a more balanced approach. Why? Because there’s a feeling of exhaustion as you constantly chase and initiate with some level of uncertainty if the other people genuinely wants to join and participate. What’s needed is a mutual sign of eagerness and commitment, that goes beyond just agreeing to show up and being present.

What a lot of women end up perceiving as ghosting is literally little more than a guy pausing and waiting for a woman to initiate or reach out. If days or a week or more go by and there’s no outreach? She’s sent a strong signal and he moves on. By the time she does reach out – if she does – the social relationship has transitioned from an active state to an inactive state.

So, what’s the fix? Be intentional in how you engage, and be mindful that while its rarely 50/50 – after all, we all communicate differently and it IS part of the fun. It’s important to make sure it’s not 100/0 and completely lopsided.

A (Fascinating?) World of Lies: Dating, Filters, and Fibs

Dating right now is comically weird. In the grand historical context, I don’t think dating ever is ever not-weird? But, the new ways it is weird and how technology continues to play with those dynamics is fascinating. So, here’s what I’m finding interesting at the moment.

I generally can’t figure out how I feel about the proliferation of beauty filters in dating apps. Maybe it’s my inner photographer, but damn. My gut impulse is to find their use absurd. I understand the desire to look attractive, and I get that there’s a huge amount of insecurity around getting a good photo. But, it is shocking to see the sheer number of dating profiles that are exclusively or predominantly using photos with extremely heavy filters. Most are so bad they’re obvious. But the quality and nuance is rapidly evolving to the degree that many are rapidly becoming very difficult to identify or differentiate.

We’re only a year out from the famous Japanese case where a 50-year old Japanese man was outed as posing as a sexy female motorcycle influencer in her 20s-30s due to the use of heavy filtering.

And yet, at the same time, a lot of these filters when used selectively can be argued to be comparable to makeup. You’ll see a lot of TikTokers start a video with an offhanded mention, “Just using the filter today, since I’m too lazy to do my makeup.” Which poses an interesting dilemma – at what level is arguing against the use of certain filters for images, different from arguing against the use of makeup?

While my personal preference is more toward minimal or light makeup – I absolutely enjoy, appreciate, and am drawn to photos in which women have elegant makeup on and while I don’t expect it, I also don’t think twice about it. I suppose one dimension is where it adjusts or modifies an individual’s face, eye color, or the like.

But ultimately this brings me to the broader fascination. At some point the whole goal of a dating app is to meet someone in person, right? So if your profile is fundamentally divergent from your actual appearance and identity, what’s the actual plan and thought process? Even worse. What message does it send and precedent if your very initial point of interaction is deceptive?

This brings me to the flip side of dating profiles and recent discussions around my own profile with female friends. What the hell is wrong with men?

Among groups of singles, it’s an almost inescapable ritual to discuss dating profiles, experiences and the like over the course of a beer. What’s working, what’s not working, good stories, bad stories, and everything inbetween. These discussions normally touch on what makes a good photo, if a bio is needed, and if a bio is provided what makes for good bio text. How to strike the balance between interesting, accurate, candid, mysterious, and everything inbetween.

So, I was a bit surprised when a friend flagged a totally unexpected dimension potentially hindering matches: The believability of my profile. We discussed it a bit more and I then checked with a few other female friends. And what came out of those conversations was surprising. Basically, with so many men lying on their profiles and overstating things – my profile, where I highlight unusual experiences such as my run-in with a polar bear and the outcome of my hobbies such as writing a book, and the like – is easily misread as likely lies.

It was a fascinating insight and wakeup call. I’ve known and been annoyed for years by people’s habit of lying both in bars and on dating apps. The classic with men pretending they’re tall, rich, pilots or lawyers, or British, (or single for the matter) are common place. It’s exhausting. It’s annoying. It’s also in my mind predatory and pointless. But you won’t find a bar in a major city without guys peacocking for women as part of the bar banter. Dating apps are no different. And if anything worse. From men faking career success, status, and wealth to hiding second families and wives – it’s perhaps one of the greatest and least talked about ethical pandemics plaguing society. And yet, it never occurred to me just how that might reflect and shape the context my own profile presented in.

After all – how do you build a future on shaky foundations? So, I’ve always been intentional in having recent photos, ones that showcase my passions, my evaporating hairline, and ever so slightly lopsided smile. I can’t think of a time I’ve ever misled in my profile and instead I showcase my hobbies and passions as topics to drive conversation. They’re designed to impress, but not to exaggerate or mislead. But, these conversations with friends made me realize just how odd and unusual my profile is. Not only that but how it starkly contrasts the way I’ve structured my life, my apartment, and my career compared to many conventional paths. In short, I’ve broken the if-then logic that is otherwise an essential tool in navigating dating profiles. And in so doing, there’s only one logical assumption?

It must be fake. And here, to think, for years I thought the biggest barrier to overcome was the algorithm or the lack of a chiseled six-pack.

To make it worse, this year I also received a message from Malaysia on Instagram attempting to confirm my identity. At first, I assumed it had to be a scam. At the end of the day though? It was anything but. It turns out someone, with great care, had scraped my photos and my profile, and was attempting to be me on a UK dating-app in SEA. Why? To what goal? It seems they weren’t after money, weren’t after sex. So what? They’re lonely? How tragic and rancid all at once. And the apps don’t care. It’s impossible to counter, impossible to fend off, and impossible to track down.

At this point, I’m not sure how all this information becomes more than a curiosity. How do we navigate a landscape where via filter and fib even the most basic details are misleading. And what does it say about our threshold for dishonesty and lack of accountability that these deceptions and exaggerations are not viewed as exceptions but are rather accepted as the norm. How many couples started with a lie, laughed their way through it and are now tied to each other? How is that something that so many people are comfortable reconciling? How is anything but zero tolerance acceptable? It fascinates me.

These Are Anything But Good Men

“Beware of false prophets, which come to you in sheep’s clothing, but inwardly they are ravening wolves. Ye shall know them by their fruits. Do men gather grapes of thorns, or figs of thistles? Even so every good tree bringeth forth good fruit; but a corrupt tree bringeth forth evil fruit.” ~ Matthew 7:15-17

Problematic or downright terrible advice is prolific at the moment. But, while most bad advice is relatively clear cut, the current incarnation is far more deceptive and far more convoluted. It’s not that it’s anything new, but rather, that it’s deceptive in its packaging. For years I’ve been in a critical minority about popular personalities like Jordan Peterson, Joe Rogan, Jay Shetty and their cohort. Each is distinctly different in the approach they take, and the problematic nature of their messaging and advice, but the outcome is generally the same. You think you’re being inspired, you think you’re able to navigate it effectively and cherry pick the good while recognizing the bad, but ultimately the reality is that “a corrupt tree bringeth forth evil fruit” and unfortunately that fruit is your world view and mindset.

What all three of these, and others like them, have in common is they’re disingenuous at a deep level while actively presenting themselves as the exact opposite. Peterson is the alleged stern-dad focused on accountability with hints of racist grandpa that “says the truth”, Rogan is the alleged unbiased curious chaser of truth and rebel rejecting establishment lies, and Shetty is the alleged embodiment of monk-ish earnestness and authenticity.

One promises to fill a gap in your life and provide earnest hard truths.

The other promises to inform and educate you as your guide, that’s not a guide in the pursuit of knowledge.

The last promises profound insights, humility, growth, and a Dali llama like mindset powered by gratitude.

What makes these three and their peers so difficult and toxic is a lot of what they present is genuinely good or at the very least, interesting, advice. Peterson when he’s drawing on his background as an addiction counselor surfaces good advice for taking accountability of ones action and stepping up. Rogan, an utter lack of authenticity, personal awareness, or criticality aside, will expose you to fascinating topics and some credible information and experts. Meanwhile Shetty, largely because of his propensity for gross plagiarism and re-packaging, will surface and share a lot of fantastic quotes and even more quotes that on the surface sound like great advice but which are fake, contradictory, or misleading.

Unfortunately, each serves up the good with a whole lot of deceptive bad, in a misleading delicious tasting, feel-good, shit sandwich.

Why is this a problem? After all, as smart and capable individuals, we can easily take a critical approach, cherry pick their good advice, and ignore the rest. Right? It’s the common retort. And, if that good advice is powerful and useful – then surely you’re better off than not consuming their content at all.

Which, on the surface has a strong dimension of truth to it. A critical academic can read even some of the most problematic material – take Hitler’s Mein Kampf and find a wealth of interesting insights, input, and takeaways without suddenly becoming an ardent proponent of “the Jewish Peril”. But, what history tells us, is that when we’re a receptive audience, consuming content from an authority that incrementally builds trust through agreement, our ability to differentiate and digest that content through a critical lens erodes.

From a Sales and Marketing / Psychological perspective, if I can engage you in a conversation, mirror your mannerisms in a subtle fashion, use your name, and get you to agree with me, to feel I’m earnest, and feel like I’m on your side, you’ll be exponentially more receptive to whatever I proceed to ask from you or suggest.

And this is where the likes of Peterson are deeply problematic. They suffer from a 15% problem and an incoherence problem. A good 85% of what Peterson states and will suggest is reasonable, it’s historically and behaviorally accurate, and it’s actually decent advice. But, that 15%? That 15% is where the poison fruit resides. He not only misrepresents philosophical and historical realities, but often reverses them or twists them to make the opposite point. He embraces false criticality to justify the very things he alleges to be a strong proponent of (eg; being vehemently opposed to accountability, while being a strong proponent of accountability). He also uses vague abstraction to make seemingly profound or coherent arguments which, when dismantled and challenged or actually analyzed critically contradict or don’t hold up. This was most visible in the first debate between Sam Harris and Jordan Peterson where Harris’ criticality and refusal to let the debate continue until Peterson clearly defined his position led to the conversation imploding and being unable to progress.

The combination of these three dimensions – moving you into a receptive state, then misrepresenting a small but significant part of the discussion, and then providing feel-good but non-substantive arguments essentially undo all the good that comes from the very valid 85%. Unfortunately, the outcome is that individuals take less accountability for their actions, they have a warped perspective of themselves and the world around them, and feel empowered based on a series of falsehoods which seem to provide historical, scientific, and evidence-based credence to that path/ideology and advice.

Do I think the underlying pursuit of knowledge is bad? Not at all. There is clearly an enormous need for people seeking good advice, insight, and opportunities to reflect, digest, and grow. But, I think there’s a profound level of risk and harm done by choosing the wrong ones and I’m very interested in how we differentiate (or fail to). As well as the set of tools that make it easier to detect or identify good vs. bad advice.

Projection as a Guide for Predicting Behavior

There is a certain subset of behaviors prevalent among a cross-section of the population that can provide a powerful insight and be deeply illuminative in both professional and personal interactions. This manifests in a mixture of outrage and conviction.

What is it? It’s using people’s projected accusations and objections as a guide to their inner beliefs, and actions. A clear and easy example of this is far-right politicians in the US. Trump has always been easy to understand IF you look at what he’s attacking and the narratives associated. While sometimes these manifest as attempts to poison the well in advance of some piece of news, eg “I am not a thief, you’re the thief – just as I told the world last week!”. Far more often, you can identify areas of deceit of dodgyness proactively. Once you’ve identified one of these individuals – when they come out and state, “I know this to be true!” I’ll fill in “… because I’m doing it”. This works as highly effective roadmap for predicting their behavior.

In general, these behaviors are the most clear cut when you have individuals with a more self-oriented worldview. For this reason hardcore narcissists which can otherwise seem somewhat hard to predict, become extremely transparent. However, even people with relatively mild levels of narcissisms often will default to this type of behavior and protection of self when they’re operating from a sense of fear or loss of empowerment.

The megachurch pastor or cult leader preaching moral virtual, thrifty spending, the benefits of suffering as moral virtue, and the like – is almost guaranteed to be an immoral individual, spending on lavish indulgences like private airplanes, and an individual projecting morality while being morally bankrupt.

Of course, it stretches far beyond politics and religion. I use it as a filter to digest people’s positions, and as an alert for avoiding certain types of people. It’s one of the tools I used to flag the toxicity and disingenuous nature of Jordan Pederson’s work – when viewed through this lens, of course he’d be intolerant, be incapable of taking accountability for his own actions, and have deep addictive tendencies. When I encounter someone who is deeply homophobic – I know in many cases they’re clearly indicating a deep rejection of their own inner truths. While when I encounter a racist or a xenophobe talking about how “those people” steal jobs, and are inferior – that I’m talking with someone who has deep professional insecurity, is prone to larceny, and feels like they can’t compete. It’s also the same with the modern wave of tragically insecure incel men projecting claims of “Alpha” and various “Gender Superiority” narratives.

The trick, and where there’s a level of nuance required, is when it comes to differentiating truly passionate or invested individuals from the freeriders attempting to co-opt a given narrative, role or structure. If you take the “drain the swamp” narrative about an ardent anti-corruption push – you’ll have two types of individuals. Those with a genuine desire to instill change, who observe issues posed by corruption, and who are dedicated to doing the work to make those changes. And then you’ll see individuals who are deeply corrupt, interested in co-opting the process and narrative of cleaning a system, only to install their own corrupt group of loyalists.

So I ask myself, does this fit their wider pattern of behavior? Can they explain their position and defend it in a more broad context – eg does this truly map to a wider and supported world view, or does it seem more like a broadly expressed opinion based on a more narrow or unfounded base. And are they attempting to co-opt a wider movement, or are they organically engaged and enmeshed in that view? And then lastly, I layer an empathy test.

In this way, I’ll keep an eye out and have identified certain archetypical behaviors and types of individuals that I am immediately more critical of. Then, I’ll evaluate their behavior, signaling, and the causes or narratives they’ve attached themselves to. And then from there, I’ll look for examples of these types of behaviors. Once I’ve spotted a couple, I re-shape my behavior (and if necessary outright avoidance) of these individuals. If it’s less driven by narcissisms and more by deep-seated fears and insecurity, then I also use it as a lens to accept what seems to be a truer manifestation of themselves. This also lets me show up and accept/engage with aspects of them in a different way.

Further Algorithmic Degradation of the Media Landscape

2022 was an incredibly bad year for social media. A lot of the gains have been reversed around quality, filtering, and transparency. Meanwhile the introduction of play-to-play ranking and boosts is reminiscent of the mistakes that imploded Facebook Pages/Groups and severely undercut IG’s quality and competitiveness. While paid boosting in the form of stand-alone boosts for individual creators or preferred ranking bought via “verification” are deeply damaging, there’s also an interesting pattern unfolding that shapes social networks.

A campfire that burns too hot will run out of air, suffocating and burning through its fuel before more can be added. Social media platforms fall victim to the same basic trend and the algorithms are to blame.

Instagram and Facebook, once major sources of engagement, likes, and creativity, are withering on the vine, with most content creators feeling betrayed by the platform but with few reasonable alternatives to go to. Twitter, all of its other recent problems not-withstanding, is being force-switched into a view-tracking algo-driven preferential feed that’s completely abandoned the platform’s primary USP. Snap? Snapped. Meanwhile, TikTok continues to enjoy its meteoric but rapidly slowing ascent with its firehose of traffic, its catchy engagement-hyper-optimized format, and its uncanny ability to identify and serve up compelling content.

But, Tiktok’s Midas touch is starting to turn to lead. Which got me thinking. What ruins social platforms, and why do they inevitably begin to alienate their lifeblood – original content creators.

Ultimately? I think it comes down to two conflicting needs and, once again, the algorithm is inherently to blame. These are reach and revenue – but probably not in the way you’re assuming.
As a consumer of media, we generally want novelty, relevance, and a little recognition. When you open your IG/TikTok/FB/T newsfeed, you don’t want to see the same cat video you’ve seen 30 times all over again. As a cat lover, you probably also don’t want to see a long series of recommendations from the pro-dog, anti-cat posse. But, you also want some sense of familiarity – which is really just an extension of relevance. And perhaps a dusting of the possibility of recognition. After all, isn’t that part of the reason Twitch and other streamers tip?

As a creator of media, you want reach, recognition, and rewards. There’s a ton of work that goes into creating good content for social media. It doesn’t matter if it’s as seemingly casual as laying in bed giving cleaning tips or as complex as posting a photo that cost $1000 in travel expenses, 15 hours in editing time, and 30 hours in wait time to compose. At the end of the day, as a creator, you want your content to reach as many people as possible, you want recognition that they’ve engaged with it and that it had a meaningful impact, and you want rewards in the form of either building an audience, social capital, or monetary opportunities in the form of goods, experiences, or sales that support your cause.

Nothing groundbreaking here.

Social platforms, especially those that are new and rapidly scaling or which are established but remain heavily decentralized, are able to offer a combination of both. You can almost think of it like the proliferation of mom-and-pop shops, each one selling its own unique twist and subset of experiences or products. This is when social platforms are at their most vibrant. You get compelling connections, engagement, the ability to scale and reach new and familiar audiences – and, in some cases, enough breakout success to make a little money.

10,000? 20,000? Maybe even 50,000 views on a piece of content? That’s incredible reach for the typical content creator and exciting. But…of course, it’s also not quite enough to really make a full-time career or start making hundreds of thousands of dollars.

So, with time and consolidation, success (both created organically on the platform or imported from other platforms such as celebrity) leverages the algorithm to reinforce consolidation. In short? Google, Search, and the internet come to town and make it more convenient to shop at first Walmart, then Amazon.

Or in the case of TikTok, 100 users getting 20,000 views for a single video evolves into a single user getting 1,970,000 views and 100 users getting 300 views apiece.

At this point, engagement-optimizing algorithms will continue to amplify this trend and consolidation. In short, all that traffic previously propping up all those local mom-and-pop shops gets diverted. The highway that used to stop in your small town gets re-directed around the city. And everyone ends up being funneled online or to the Walmart two towns over.

What happens?

Boom. The beating heart of your platform dies. The consumer who wants novelty, relevance, and recognition gets less…and less…and less. The content all starts to be the same from person to person, concentrated in fewer and fewer mega accounts or celebrities. The relevance tapers off because you stop getting exposed to new and varied things. And recognition becomes impossible as you simultaneously blend into the millions of invisible viewers and tens of thousands of commenters and as you lose access to surfacing new content that the rest of your network isn’t already also seeing by default.

Welcome to stagnation.

For the content creator – the initial allure that made it worthwhile to post and exciting dries up. Your reach vanishes, and you feel buried; forced to do something shocking, to try and cheat the system, or hope for some breakout that earns you the favor of the algo gods. Even the people who follow you don’t see your content, as the algo buries it in favor of suggestions or content it deems more relevant. So, without reach, recognition quickly fades to dust. For the typical creator – the rewards also fade away. The indie photographer, cool pottery maker, or small business that didn’t need 500 million reviews to benefit are disconnected from their community. And for the rare breakout – the benefits are significant but also usually fickle.

And…before long, some new platform comes along and the reset button gets pressed. The legacy platforms try and pivot; they try and turn back up incentives or force traffic – just as Instagram has done in the past year. But they’re chasing the wrong fix and are only amplifying the problem.

So, what’s the fix?

In an ideal world, a return to chronological or curated feeds. But since that’s not likely to happen any time soon – I believe what you have to fix is the algorithm. Importantly, you have to fix how the algorithm accelerates and decelerates the content it chooses to show. Beyond that, your algorithm needs to optimize for the middle and penalize for the extremes. A robust and healthy ecosystem requires that you actively discourage traditional breakout viral accounts while nurturing novelty. That’s no easy task. As you need to leave enough room to incentivize high-quality content creators and to leave room for the creation of cultural phenomena. But in a way that still prioritizes novelty, innovation, and discovery.

It’s no different than the offline world. If the disparity between your top earners and your bottom earners is extreme, with no middle class, your society struggles. If your society has room for both but a large middle class, your society thrives and innovates.

At the end of the day, your algorithm is the kingmaker. And what we see time and time again is ot so much that fewer people are growing bored with a platform but more a case of them choosing to overthrow unfair rulers and relocate to places where there’s more opportunity.

This is the real danger of Twitter’s pivot to heavily biased algorithmic recommendations; it’s where Instagram desperately needs to reverse course, why most people have given up on their FB news feed, and charts a path to the single greatest threat to Tiktok in the near and long-term. One thing’s for sure. Forcing users to pay a premium for visibility delivers short term income, exploits creators, and all but guarantees the eventual death of a platform. The only question is how long it takes for a sufficiently sturdy alternative to come along.

Looking Forward to 38

So, what’s ahead in 38? It’s hard to know. I’m expecting some fairly big steps and am very hopeful.

Life right now is good. It’s relatively balanced. I have a good job. I have great colleagues. I’m well compensated and make enough but also have enough freedom to do what I want and to be in an empowered space. If all goes according to plan, I’ll buy my first property in the coming months and have a space which is truly my own. Certainly a big step, and an exciting commitment.

Beyond that? I’m not quite sure where I focus. Perhaps revisiting MistDefender, or finally diving into and finishing my second book. More photography for sure – and perhaps I’ll focus on light and color theory with a painting class to help improve the craft. Or, perhaps something totally different – not sure what it might be just yet. Regardless, spring and summer tend to be periods for creative growth for me, and as winter fades I can feel my energy and drive return and itching for a new project to learn and grow through.

37 brought a resumption of free travel, and just days ago some of the last remaining holdouts re-opened their borders. I’ve booked two new countries for next week and cannot wait to travel with my brother and explore Kazakhstan and Kyrgyzstan. Both for the chance to experience new places and the joy of the road, but also for the fantastic growth that comes from being introduced to new regions and cultures. I also got much more comfortable renting and driving – finally having tackled the streets of Italy not once, but twice.

Last year also brought my longest exclusive relationship in more than a decade. While it didn’t work out for a variety of reasons, it left me feeling inspired, eager to continue to search for the right partner, and I’m also aware of new ways I can push and grow myself. Let’s see what 38 brings =)

As always, THANK YOU to everyone who is part of this weird and wild journey in some way-shape-or form, even if it’s just a comment here or an e-mailed note.

You challenge me, you inform me, you inspire me, you encourage me and you help me grow. You share so much joy with me, and I am profoundly grateful and humbled that you choose to spend part of your precious time with me.