Day one. Start run. Start recording. Out of breath. Out of shape. Out of excuses. What have I gotten myself into…
Repetition isn’t redundancy—it’s the craft of making ideas stick, and the discipline of carrying them until they do.
I discovered wordplay years ago — now it’s part of my daily practice. Crafting lines that stick, shift perspective, and make the ordinary unforgettable… or at least a bit interesting.
A good name doesn’t explain. It distills. It makes the invisible feel tangible — not by describing it, but by daring to claim it.
Finding your voice isn’t magic. It’s repetition, it’s cringe, and it’s the weird moment when you realize you’re no longer imitating anyone else.
100 days in. The goal isn’t out there somewhere—it’s here. It’s in showing up, writing, and sharing every day.
I wake. I log. I pour the water. Instant coffee, same shelf, same cup. It’s not inspiration—it’s habit. And somewhere in the quiet, the idea comes.
Every writer has thousands of bad pages in them. The faster you write them out, the sooner you find the good ones.
What makes a doc living isn’t the proclamation—it’s the practice. The quiet systems and small acts of care that keep it alive.
My handwriting wasn’t born. It was built — from architects, artists, and animators I admired, one borrowed detail at a time.
You can’t control how people respond to your work. But with AI, you can practice hearing feedback — at the pace you’re ready for. That’s what this experiment is all about.
I used AI to generate a podcast where two hosts talked about me and my writing. Not just summarized — talked. Awkward. Humbling. The feedback wasn’t real, but the self-reflection was.
Capturing matters. Make it easy, so you’ll actually do it. Not just to remember, but to express. To practice. To let passing thoughts grow into something more — your own words, your own voice.
Off days happen. When they do, don’t perform. Don’t force. Just ask: what do I genuinely want right now? Then do that — your version of it, for today.
I’ve written every day for 21 days. The biggest lesson? Stop overthinking. Just start. Do the whole thing. Do it your way.