Category: Mindful March

  • Costume Party

    Does everyone need to brand themselves? 

    A personal brand goes well beyond a clever URL and a logo made up of your initials. 

    In an online world we are presented with this ideas of an avatar, a kind of costume that we don when we share our work, our thoughts, or our best selves in digital spaces.

    Since we are (obviously) unable to be online in the physical, tangible way that is the organic stuff of reality and a million years of social evolution, what we then present online is necessarily a construct. After all, we cannot know the subtleties of our own personalities like the ticks and quirks we give off when sitting across from a real person, so all of it is fabricated as some kind of manicured self image if we like that idea or not.

    Embracing this idea, leaning into it, is the notion of personal brand: shaping that avatar to fulfill a purpose, and perhaps to be more than—or at least a more refined and controlled version of—our real world selves.

    The notion this implies is that we are all somehow emotionally mature enough to construct these online characters in a way that presents us in a positive and beneficial way. 

    What this implies is skill and nuance. 

    What this notion misses is that not all masks well made.

    To brand oneself, one puts on a mask and becomes someone or something else, which can be useful and necessary, but can be a difficult illusion to maintain. 

    This doesn’t make it impossible or ill-advised, but rather perhaps something that is done with care and purpose and not just because it seems to be a fad.

  • Last Make

    What if today was your last day to make something that would define you after you were gone?

    What would you make?

    Would you aim for perfection of quality by making something well that you knew you could make well? Or would you push yourself, not caring about potential imperfection, and want it to express your individuality in it’s flaws by showing people that you were striving to be better? It will say something about you whatever you choose, you know.

    Would you make something of value to others? Or would you make something of value to yourself? Would you stop caring about the marketability of that thing, or if it would get lots of clicks or if it had potential to bring in high sales? No really, I’m asking? I think some people would want their last craft to have a literal payoff even if they weren’t there to enjoy it, while others might feel that was selling out

    Would you make something that in the making also made you happy? Or would you seek out a final product that better defined you externally to others regardless of the enjoyment your would get from making it? Or is that the same thing? I think about it myself and I’m not sure if the things I do well for others are what make me the happiest.

    What would you make?

  • Loop Jamming

    Have you noticed that the advice on the internet rarely leans into imperfection.

    Very few people are writing tutorials about how to just have fun.

    If you have been reading this blog you will long since know that my creative adventures into 2026 have swirled around creating music. I have played an instrument for forty years, but stretched my musical explorations more and more for just the last decade, taking up the violin about ten years ago, joining a community orchestra, and lately getting into synth-based audio explorations on my own. I’m a novice, but one with a big range: a large puddle, but not one that goes very deep—if you take my meaning.

    In attempting to deepen that knowledge I have been seeking instruction, often online, and what I find is that most everything leans into the idea that the end goal must be perfect: polished, honed and uniformly refined to gold standard. 

    For example, I have been looping: recording layered loops of sound (and noise) and voice and rhythm into all manner of interesting audio recordings. Some of them I’ve been publishing as a kind of podcast on this very site. They are rough. They are gritty. They have sharp edges. They are imperfect.

    Yet according to every piece of advice online my work has no value unless I strive for perfect.

    Use a DAW.

    Quantize your tracks.

    Set up your recording booth just so.

    Imperfection is the enemy… apparently.

    But I don’t want that: I have merely been jamming. Exploring. Feeling my way through the tools and making things that echo with a kind of imperfect delight in their moment of creation. 

    So here’s a piece of advice online: strive for imperfect, too. After all, it’s human.

  • Fail Bots

    The algorithm does not care if you succeed and in fact may want you to fail.

    Have you heard of the algorithm? We toss that term around like it has a deep history and long roots into our culture, and in some ways it might, but the algorithm itself is our newest creative barrier and one designed for the very purpose of siphoning the worth from everything you make.

    In their unchecked wisdom, the architects of our modern global communications platforms realized two things. First, they understood that the firehose of random creativity that emerged from millions of people posting to the internet was more enchanting when churned into curated maelstrom. Second, they learned there was money to be made from turning the creative efforts of those millions into a commodity labeled with the soulless term “content.” To engineer this transformation of art into corporate value they birthed complex mechanizations to sort and shuffle, scrape, churn, prune, and cultivate, all if it extracting the worth of human creativity into a storm of placid, flaccid… ugh… content.

    If you participate, that is if you make “content” then you will feed the algorithm and for a while you will feel as if you have achieved success. But rather than nurture the soul as art and creativity is meant to do, you will only enslave yourself to that mechanism.

    On the other hand, if you make things that do not fit neatly into the digital slots and grooves of the algorithm, that system will almost certainly work against you. It wants you to fail because you give it no literal value.

    But know this: you give the rest of us that value instead.

    The algorithm wants you to fail, so prove it wrong.

  • Says Who

    Not many people are going to give you permission to make something… and bluntly, you shouldn’t need it.

    Don’t get me wrong, if it is dangerous or could hurt others—be that financially, morally, physically, or personally—then you should really reconsider your creative efforts.

    But if you are out there wanting to be the one who is creating, making, and sharing, and more so, are yearning for the art of making stuff because it might result in interesting, beautiful or wonderful results, then your permission-seeking mindset might turn out to be an unnecessary barrier holding you back.

    I write about these things, I spill affirmations of this sort, precisely because I have been a permission-seeker my whole life. I am old enough now that (mostly) when I catch myself seeking such permissions I have a stern internal monologue and give myself a good talking to about submitting to those behaviours. But I get it—because that notion digs into you like a relentless infection of spirit and you may never be rid of it. All you can really do it wake up every day and remind yourself that permission will never be given, nor should it even be required.

    And I’m not giving you permission here, though it might very much seem like it. 

    Rather I am writing this to nudge you towards dismissing the very need for it.