5.17.2025 Yesterday, I was mid-stroke in an early-stage (peak-frustration) oil painting when my partner asked me— “How do you decide what’s next?” No idea. What a baffling question to be asked, and yet I still took some time to try and throw some reason at it until the ‘right’ answer started feeling esoteric enough to not really matter. where the paint is dry? where the paintbrush guides me? whatever feels right? Today, I’m getting a few thigh tattoos and reading Tickled by Duff McDonald. I’m throwing a few beautifully relevant passages below because I’ve been in awe at the continuous bits of cosmic reassurance I can’t stop noticing, collecting, admiring: “Here's a thought. Have you ever considered the fact that our culture of measurement can't tell us what we want to happen? It can only tell us what seems likely to happen. We should have been spending far more time on the first and much less time on the second. Because we can make things happen, and the more time we spend trying to predict things, the less time we spend trying to create things. Instead of focusing on the fact that anything can happen, we are trying to predict what will happen. There may be no better way to squander the moment than that. You cannot pounce on opportunity when you are seeking to exert control. The former requires the absence of the latter. Not only that, but there is also the idea of the causeless cause, the thing that happens because it is in its very nature to happen, a spontaneous occurrence without effort. People act spontaneously when they are in flow. You can call that insight, the creative impulse, or you can call it something else- love, kindness, generosity- but whatever you call it, you can't predict it. Some things happen just because they happen, not because something else caused them to happen. Every single thing that is amazing about being alive- including the very start of it is not something you can predict, using some kind of algorithm. Why? Because you cannot quantify the most important variable of all, which is love, which is only available in the present.” Change in myself is easy to miss until it’s too big to ignore. I’ve moved so far from my previously incredibly procedural approach to creativity, embracing urges like itches that guide me as they happen… unpredictable opportunities for exploration that open portals for something I could never conceptualize if I depended solely on my own ability to influence choices. More and more, I’ve felt the interconnectedness of every choice I’ve ever made. It feels like the trust I’ve given to infinite possibility has rewarded me with treats of reassurance. I wore a favorite tank top of mine today, screen-printed with a cute design by an independent artist— repeating Kit-Cat Clocks and the 1983 Talking Heads lyric, “I love the passing of time”. When I walked in to the tattoo studio a few hours ago, I made immediate eye contact with their Kit-Cat Clock on the wall, swinging its tail with an air of serendipity. Who’s to say what is next? When I get there, I trust I’ll notice the universe’s signs letting me know that This Must Be the Place.