Scraps of paper are my first line of defense against losing an idea. I take notes all the time in all sorts of spots. There are sketchbooks and yellow memo pads strewn about my apartment. There are sticky notes, scraps of paper, and napkins from the coffee shop all with (fragments of) ideas taped to my wall. Half of them are ripped in half because the other part of the paper was a grocery list, to-do list, or something else I no longer need. I of course also collect digital notes, often in the notes app™ or even emails to myself. And of course the marginalia in whatever book(s) I’m currently reading. Collectively, these constitute the first half1 of my note taking process.

In the short term, most of these live in a notebook if I was lucky enough to have one nearby, or taped to my wall if the medium is a scrap of paper.

When I have time or one of the ideas is calling, I type some of these notes up along with whatever related ideas come to mind. Sometimes the scraps include sources to look up or quotations to find, which are typed up too.

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Obsidian holds most of my notes long term and in a digital format. I use it for everything from meeting notes to email drafts, but mostly I store notes on media I consume and related ideas. When it comes to actually writing a complete essay/post, I sometimes draft it out in Obsidian but if it require any fancy formatting or aligned images I’ll use a proper word processing tool (often overleaf especially for STEMy things, occasionally another app, and of course the Substack editor for things like this2).

I really like Obsidian for two major reasons: the file sizes are extremely small3 and it’s easy to link elements of a note to another note or broader topic. There are also several options with varying costs for syncing notes across devices, including DIY for free. You can use a double bracket to “highlight” a word or phrase, and that becomes a node in your notes graph. If a note with a title matching exactly what you highlighted exists, it’ll link directly to that. A very basic example of how I use this could be having highlighted [[surrealism]] in multiple individual notes, and then the actual note called “surrealism” would link to those notes; then I might write some specific ideas related to surrealism4 down in that note or include links to other related topics. All of that feeds into a network that obsidian automatically generates, letting you see and search relationships between topics. Below is an example—nodes are tagged words/phrases, and if it’s dark it’s also the title of an already existing note.

Much of my Obsidian is dedicated to notes on media I consume and the ideas I get from it. This most often includes books, articles, and videos though sometimes poems or movies make their way in too. I have dedicated folders for article, video, and book notes.

I love including direct quotations that I found interesting from media right in the note. Sometimes I want to include long video quotations in my note, in which case I use auto transcription tools to speed the process up. For YouTube videos, are all kinds of transcription tools out there, but I find myself defaulting to NotebookLM5 because it’s so easy to use.

When I read a book, I’m actually fairly “lazy” with my note taking the first time around. The process is typically limited to underlining or bracketing sections I really liked or a note in the margins. Occasionally I get an idea from the reading and write that down (also on whatever is handy).

As with videos, I like to eventually type up the quotations I highlighted and any related marginalia. For long quotations I sometimes use the camera text recognition feature on my phone instead of typing it all out. It can feel grueling, but it also gives me a refresh on some important moments from the book… or makes me laugh at some unhinged note6 I left in the margin. If I find a word or phrase during transcription to be interesting or think it’s tied to another concept I have notes on, I double bracket it so that it either “backlinks” to an existing topic/note or creates a new one to link to later (as shown in the network picture). And when I re-read quotations I sometimes come up with new thoughts that weren’t scribbled on the page. For example, just a couple of days ago I was typing up my notes from “Something in the Woods Loves You” and a few quotations linked to “The Future of Truth;” now I have the seed for a writing about truth, metaphor, and magic. When the idea first struck me, I actually wrote it down on a scrap of nearby paper and now it’s taped to my wall.

are.na is the last major component of my note taking. I use this for collections of ideas—often links or images—like some use Pinterest. In fact I’ve heard it compared to a nerdier version of Pinterest. There are a few core features I really like: creating collections of blocks (similar to boards), being able to include a single block in multiple collections (channels), being able to include someone else’s block in your channel, creating collaborative blocks, and no ads. They also have a new mobile app and API, and occasionally publish collections of essays and art submitted by users. To be honest, I don’t take advantage of all it has to offer. Most often, I drop interesting media or links I don’t want to lose into collections, and then tidy some of them up later. Often those links later become notes in obsidian once I have time to properly read or listen to whatever was linked. Other times I just like having a channel with pretty pictures or content that I can easily share (e.g., I have one with links and PDFs of many of my favorite pieces of writing so I can easily find one or send the whole set to someone who’s interested).

buy me a cafe latte

Ultimately what matters most is that you find a system that lets you store ideas, no matter how simple or messy, so that you won’t lose them forever. Bonus points if it’s easy to back up. Often when I’m busy or exhausted I forsake well linked obsidian notes and some of my are.na channels are still a mess,7 but I don’t really care because I know I haven’t lost it forever.

I hope this helps, and please share your favorite note taking tools!

until next time ily bye<3

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nobody quite knows how they arrived or

how they survive Boston’s winters,

only that as the trees begin to blossom and

the flowers start to bloom

they reemerge and

dash across the gravel paths or

sun themselves on a fallen branch.

“Still here,” they proclaim

as do I

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One of the first questions I asked was her coffee order, and I knew I would remember it as easily as my own name the second it left her lips. But I wrote it down anyway, along with what must be over a hundred other things about her, just in case.

Her favorite mug is the one I made for her at that pottery class we took when we had just started dating. Or, more accurately, the one I made with her because the mug would have been an amorphous blob without her gentle hands guiding mine as the clay spun in front of us. But I can proudly say that I painted the snoopy on the front entirely myself. Every time I remove mug from the drying rack, that memory resurfaces—complete with the smell of wet clay and acrylic paint—until the scent of of fresh coffee beans and noise of the grinder refocus me on the task at hand. Since that mug cannot be duplicated for obvious reasons, I always make my coffee drink (which happens to be the exact same as hers, I love all of the little things like that about us) in her second favorite mug. I’ve picked up this habit just in case she likes the taste of mine better, so she only has to downgrade slightly if we exchange cups.

Yesterday, as I was riding the train home, I pulled my book out from my bag intending to complete the last two chapters, only to return it seconds later when I realized that we could both finish our books together the next morning if I waited. (Another little thing I love is how we always sit quietly together as we read, finding it possible to savor both the words and each others company that way). As I tucked the book back away, my ring caught my eye. Though a recent addition to my finger, it felt as though it had been there forever even if I couldn’t yet see it. I remembered the way she looked at hers that morning, smiling as she spun it around her finger. Though it was hours old, that smile remained infectious. I was no doubt beaming because I knew she found as much joy in the shiny, round reminder of our promises to each other as I did. Fellow passengers probably assumed my expression was simply a result of it being 5:23pm on a Friday.

Her coffee is done, and I figure she must be enjoying a few extra minutes of sleep this morning. I think I’ll pick up my book while I wait for the of freshly brewed coffee’s smell to make it into the bedroom and draw her out of bed.

buy me a café latte

Much of this post is a sort of response to or “other person’s perspective” on a post written earlier tonight by , so go check that out!

Thanks for yearning with me <3

Dear father,

           How I yearn to be home with you.






















Lately I find myself wanting to sleep more and more. Eight hours never satisfied me. But now I find myself grasping for 12. Perhaps I am hoping to sleep this whole deadful thing away. Perhaps I am hoping that it's all just a bad dream.





































Dear Father,
           How I long to be home with You.

Ingredients:

1+1/2 cups flour

1 cup sugar

1 stick (1/2 cup) butter, ideally room temperature and cut into at least a few chunks

2 eggs2

2 whole very ripe bananas, smashed or at least very cut up

1 tsp baking soda

1/2 tsp salt (unless you use salted butter)

~1/2 bag chocolate chips

1 tsp vanilla extract (optional)

Instructions:

Preheat the oven to 400F (sometimes I do 375 or reduce to 375 midway through to prevent it from getting to browned on top)

Mix the eggs, salt, and sugar together until it’s sorta fluffy. Blend in the butter, then the bananas.3 Then mix in the baking soda and vanilla (if using). Then incorporate the flour, 1/2 cup at a time (sifting as you go if you have a sifter). Add the chocolate chips.

Lightly grease a loaf pan with butter or oil. Pour in the mix and make sure to wipe up any stray drips on the edges so they don’t burn. Try to make the batter level approximately level in the pan.

Bake until a skewer/toothpick/whatever you use comes out clean. This usually takes 40-50 mins for me, but I always check at 30 and decide if I want to reduce the temperature and then keep checking every 10 mins after that.

Let it rest for a few mins, then gently pry it loose from the pan. Pop it out onto a plate or cutting board and then slice as desired. I typically store it in an airtight container or wrapped with multiple layers of foil to keep it moist, but plan to eat it within 2ish days or refrigerate/freeze it.

buy me coffee to go w the banana bread

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Sometimes I even imagine if we became friends or fell in love. Do they like soup as much as I do? What is their coffee order, or do they avoid caffeine? Would they say yes to coffee if I just stopped them and asked? Are they new to the city and hoping for friends? Are they tourist looking for recommendations? Have they lived here for decades and know the name of every street? What does their apartment look like compared to mine? Do they have a bookshelf? Pets? What would our house look like if we were an old married couple? Do the importance of their smile as they walk past on these cold winter days? Do they know I care about them?

You can't put a limit on my café lattes

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Sometimes I spend my day wondering and jotting down ideas in notebooks; I do not care if they are good. I stay up late finishing a book. I sleep in late and eat pancakes. I hope I see my friends out when I take a walk around my block. My eyes widen at each new flower and pill bug in the grass.1 I devour an ice cream—cone and all—and don’t even consider the sugar content. I haphazardly2 run my own science experiments in the kitchen sink. I am an artist when I feel like it, and I read when I want to. Snowmen are alive, and I keep a magic wand stored in the ceiling that I can call upon whenever its powers are needed. I can feel without incessant thinking again. Time is only useful for calculating how long I have until recess. I am in awe nearly everything I see.Sometimes I am a child again.

Sometimes everything makes sense again.

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Keep your substack crushes close, and your substack nemeses closer. That’s why, prompted by ‘s note, I had to know:1 who has a crush, and who is a nemesis? So I asked people to like a note if they had a crush or thought they were my nemesis. And then I got to thinking. And then I thought some more. And then I ate a salad. And then all of a sudden I was like wait I wonder what the probability is of me sharing a crush or nemesis status with someone who liked that note? Would my love or hate be requited?

At the time of writing this I have seven likes on my note. So we’ll use that as the total number of possible pairings here.

I’m mostly interested in calculating the probability that I would share a crush/nemesis status with someone. Ok here comes the math part but don’t be scared

This is just saying the probability that I get exactly k guesses right is equal to this formula, based on the binomial distribution, relating the number of trials (in this case people who responded so n=7), and p is the probability of correctly guessing whether I am a nemesis (as a value between 0-1.

Let’s assume I have a 50/50 chance of correctly guessing if their like was a crush or nemesis like. So p is 0.5 or 50%, (also equal to 1-(prob of crush)). In that case, the probability of getting exactly two guesses right would be:

Not great! But fortunately that’s not actually what I care about. Instead suppose I think could find an honest to goodness nemesis in that group, so I only need ONE (or more, they can fight it out from there) to be mutual. Let’s assume I see 4/7 people as potential nemesis material, and we treat a nemesis as a ‘success’ but a crush as a ‘failure’ (sorry it’s valentines EVE I get a pass back to loverboy tomorrow). So we’ll narrow the number of “trials” down to 4. Now we’re interested in at least one mutual nemesis status. This new formula is taking the sum of each trial’s probability of being a success, which in turn gives you a cumulative probability of getting at least one. This is also equal to 1 - (probability of 0/4). Aka chance of 1/4 + 2/4 + 3/4 + 4/4 matches.

or

Fantastic news! I might just have a near 95% chance of finding a nemesis >:)

If we suppose they’re much more likely to have a crush on me (which let’s be honest that’s oooobviously true), we could adjust the probability down to say 1/5 (0.2). Well we still get

60% isn’t too bad. Maybe at long last I’ll have a nemesis, or at least a mutual crush.

If you’re a real nerd like me and want to see the plot of the probability of at least one shared sentiment, here you go:

You can see that at 14 likes on my note I’d have a >95% chance, and at around 25 I’m almost certain to find a nemesis.

Or if we’re treating it as a coin flip:

If you read wow thanks for indulging me <3 and I hope maybe you learned a little fun math. Also I’m tired forgive any typos or mistakes

Ingredients:

2-31 tbsp Bonne Maman Peanut Chocolate Spread

Espresso shot (normal amount for latte)

Steamed milk (normal amount for latte + 2tbsp)

Steps:

1. put the spread in the bottom of a cup with 1-2 tbsp of milk.

2. microwave that til it’s warm. ~15 seconds (it’ll burn if you do it too long so careful)

3. mix the milk and spread very thoroughly until it’s approximately the consistency of syrup (try to get rid of graininess but a tiny bit is ok)

4. Pour the espresso shot into the cup2 and mix well

5. Steam the milk until it’s slightly hotter than normal

6. Slowly pour in the milk and blend gently as you go

Note: It’s not quite as chocolatey, at least in my opinion when it’s mixed with the coffee and milk. You get a little bit more of the peanut flavor. So it’s not quite as 1:1 on taste before vs combined into as say, chocolate syrup or possibly nutella (but I haven’t had that in a while).

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Sometimes I like to lay on my back on my carpet
in my living room
and close my eyes real tight
and wait long enough 
then suddenly I’m laying in a field

There are all kinds of bugs crawling around but
they cannot bite me (nor can I squish them),
and the tree pollen will not make me sneeze
I could lay here forever

Can you smell that dewy grass, too?
Hear the buzz of the bee nearby?
Feel the breeze ripple over your body?
I could lay here forever

Those red flowers that smell so nice 
We’ll pick some for the dining room vase
We could lay here forever

Every apple
more delicious than the last
I’ll rough the dough out for a pie
when we get home
We could stay here forever

Home that’s a funny word
I think maybe I’m home.
Right now,
with you

We’ll be here forever 

Just so long as we 
lay hear a little longer & 
dream a little
harder

I found myself back in a field I used to visit, only this time it was better. It was perfect. There was peace on earth.

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This one is perfect for those days where you have enough energy to make soup, but not enough to cut up 5 different vegetables and measure a half dozen spices. As I can personally attest to, it is also great paired with snow swirling outside. And, of course, a grilled cheese.

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Oh and don’t forget to put the leftover soup away in the refrigerator, it would be so sad if you forgot and it went bad

I will listen to your problems every day. I will make your favorite foods and coffee in the morning. I hope we like the same shows but if not I will gladly watch your favorites just so I can understand your references. I will write you notes and draw you pictures, and I will hate my handwriting and think my drawings inadequate but I will do it anyway. I’ll take you to museums and concerts and fancy dinners after. And on picnics under our favorite tree.

I know that I will love imperfectly and I hate that. But I will try again over and over and I will show you the grace and forgiveness that I’ve received.

I’m afraid that one of us will die long before the other but that won’t stop me from falling deeply and completely in love with you.

I need you to be gentle with my heart because I’ve had friends who I thought would last forever leave out of the blue and my last relationship ended abruptly. So I need to learn to trust again.

I was born with only one full leg, which can mean a lot of things. But mostly it makes me think that I sometimes won’t be able to walk to the store in the snow even when I really want to go before you woke up because you told me you wanted pancakes for breakfast at 11pm the night before but we didn’t have the right ingredients to make them. But it doesn’t mean I won’t learn to dance with you before our wedding. Sometimes I worry that I’ll lose my hair and as stupid as I know that worrying about looks actually is, it’s because it’s just one example of how I wish I could be more attractive so you could show me off.

I will cry with you and hug you for hours on end if you’ll let me. I’ll say how beautiful you are and I will mean it because I will fall for every little part of you both inside and out. I will listen to your insecurities and I will remind you that my love and God’s love eclipse all of those.

I will learn your favorite everything and write it down just in case I forget (which isn’t likely). I will use all of these things I learn to surprise you with gifts and to take you places I think you’ll like. We will have unrivaled inside jokes. I will constantly tell my friends how lucky I am, and everybody will be jealous of how in love we are.

I will hold your hand at the movies and I will tear up if you rub mine with your thumb. I will fluff your pillow just how you like it. I will knit you scarves and stitch blankets. I won’t rush ahead of you when we’re walking somewhere (for some reason my dad does does sometimes that and my mom hates it). I will bake cookies just so the house smells nice and you have a warm snack when you get home from a long day.

I will slowly share the parts of me that feel most vulnerable or things I am ashamed of, and when you share yours I will listen and do everything I can to help you heal.

I will fight for love. I will pray that love is protected, and I will cry out to God through tears when things in life get difficult knowing that He will sustain us.

I will think of a thousand other things I want to share with you and ten thousand ways that you brighten my days.

I do not know precisely what the future holds. But I do know that you will inspire me to write poems. To find joy in everyday moments. To pour out my soul to you. You already do just by existing. I love you.

I was laying in bed thinking I would soon go to sleep and I suddenly had this urge to start writing this down. So I sat up, and in one burst typed out all of these words. I dedicate this to you, whoever you are. Maybe you’re reading this right as it’s published, or maybe we haven’t even met yet.

To everyone else, as always ily and thank you for reading <33

Sometimes an image, be it from real life or a photo, captivates me. It could be a complex natural element like the trunk of a tree;1 other times, it can be a picture someone posts. Or, in the most recent case, a still shot from a TV show. More specifically, a freeze frame from part 6 of the Twin Peaks return, where a stoplight is shown swaying in the wind on a pitch black night. This is, coincidentally, the cover photo for this post.2

I can only offer guesses and half-complete truths as to why certain shots speak to me more than others.3 I won’t bore you with my theories here. What is more relevant is that—when I am lucky enough to notice such inspiring pictures—something flickers inside of me. A deep feeling in my soul beyond mere intellectual curiosity. A need to learn more about it through observation or recreation. And I keep it alive as if my life depended on it until I can eventually turn the spark into an all consuming fire of creation. At risk of this metaphor overstaying its welcome, the kindling is discovering the right medium and the logs are the skills I need to execute on the idea.

I will use this painting of the stoplight as a scaffolding for the rest of this piece. As I work on a project like this, I find myself asking many questions. “What are the core shapes?” “How is the light reflecting?” “What mediums should I try”

Despite the relative simplicity of the image, I’ve already spent multiple hours zooming in on the image to look at subtle shifts in value and determining where and how much of two colors could bleed into each other to generate the desired boundaries. I’ve created many sketches of the core shapes, most of which were woefully inaccurate or disproportionate.

But I love having a project like this to mull over in the shower, on the way to my office, or as I lay down in my bed. And occasionally I’m frustrated that I cannot get a shape right, or that I am unable to properly mix the colors. And then as soon as I step away I’m almost magically grateful those problems.

I can become obsessive over details. I’m a chronically unsatisfied perfectionist in many areas (hopefully at this point I can reasonably add ‘recovering’ as an additional adjective modifying perfectionist). Art projects force me to confront both the limitations of a medium and my own lack of talent. No matter how much I think, I am limited by the confines of a brush stroke, and the result of that stroke is contingent upon the precision of motion of my arm, my ability to accurately translate the image in my mind or on a sheet of paper into the correct motion, and the physical properties of the paint and canvas. Will I become infuriated with inaccuracies? Certainly. Will I be forced to accept imperfection? Definitely. Will I improve with each attempt? Absolutely. But will my ever-growing ability to notice shape, value, and color4 give me a deeper appreciation for the intricacies of objects, light, and nature. Without a doubt.

As of now, I’ve only completed some basic studies and sketches of the shapes that I will eventually translate onto the canvas. When I have finished the project I will of course feel a sense of accomplishment. I might even hang it up if I feel it fits well in a spot on my wall. If I’m lucky someone might comment on it. But what is more important to me is that, with each step, I fall more and more in love with the image and the art making process. Perhaps above all, I train myself to see more details in the world around me. And, similarly, to notice the intricacies—both physical and emotional—of the people in my life. I find myself spending more time staring at a leaf on a tree or a shell on the beach, completely awestruck by the incredible number of details each object contains. The people I love become ever more beautiful. I drift off to sleep envisioning shapes or colors in higher fidelity. My gratitude to be in a world full of such beautiful creation deepens.

What does this have to do with AI? (That was in the subtitle after all). I ask you, could a machine experience all of that? And more importantly, would you if you asked a chatbot to generate a picture of a red stoplight? Would you lose your ability to notice when your heart nudges you to take special notice of something?

Click for the note and article

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Thank you for reading as always <3

In Princess Bride, this takes the literal form of fighting foes in a storybook style tale. In When Harry Met Sally, this means a slow and often uneasy—but eventually honest—willingness among the characters to open themselves up to hurt because they both know they have something special. Even if it takes them a while to realize it or become mature enough to know what to do with that. Now these movies aren’t perfect or reasonable blueprints for love stories of course. And of course there are toxic situations where it is much better to leave someone than stay. But I think we recognize that, when there are at least some elements of a strong foundation of care and respect, true love is worth fighting for. And indeed, to make any close relationship last (even plantonically), it will take some amount of sacrifice and effort.

Love requires work. Love requires effort, even when that effort comes with boundaries. And at first glance that can make me feel afraid, especially in a world where we’re told that we should be able to do things quickly and easily. And yet I think that’s what makes it worth it. I cannot think of anything sweeter than two people earnestly choosing each other, even when there are ugly moments (we are not perfect after all). What greater gift is there than slowly building a deep foundation of trust with someone. To eventually recognize that you’ve found someone that you can really and truly let see you without the constant fear that they will walk away. What greater gift is there than to be that kind of person for someone else?

“a program... It’ll take the sentence and divide it up between the columns… and then I’ll set it to randomize and it’ll take those 20 sentences and cut in between them all all the time picking out choosing different words from different columns um and from different rows of sentences. So what you end up with is a a real kaleidoscope of of meanings and topics and nouns and verbs all sort of slamming into each other.”

I proceeded to approximately recreate it as a web app (if you want to use it let me know and I’ll send you the link).

And because I’ve been on an experimental poetry spree, I decided to experiment with some erasure-esque poems (I did a similar one here). To make this poem, I generated six lines with ten words each, and then selected removed (“erase”) some of them to generate the final poem! I’ve been rewatching twin peaks this month, so for the input text I used the transcript of Major Briggs describing his vision to his son.

Without further ado: here’s the poem itself:

wellsprings and

a vision

a veranda in mind

carefree clear

one living

in your subsconcious

Below is the original series of words before erasure

ily ty for reading see u soon <3

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to gently dim the fear he had

of pain of loss and loneliness

with ocean’s kiss and dreamy sand

He would awake inside a dream

the tide now seemed to dissipate

and standing in the pale moonlight

a brand new sight his blissful fate

Now at long last he knew it real

that two could feel what books tell of

and both learned it would never end

fear could not rend two souls in love

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This poem was written using the meter/assonacne from Tolkien’s Song of Eärendil. Something about this structure gives the sense of motion and adventure to me, which feels right given that finding love and the shared life of continuously renewed commitment once it is kindled are both their own kind of journey.

Also I rewrote parts of this so many times despite it only being three stanzas and I decided to just send it before I stay up all night lol anyway I hope you enjoyed <3

Are there any words that feel like a scream? If anyone would know for sure it’s Fiona Apple but I'm not famous enough to call her up

I must scream
I must scream

I have a hand I have a 
pen I have a 
page I have 
half a mind
I have a mouth and I must 
scream

That didn't feel like a scream
let's try it again
scream!
no,
a synonym perhaps?
yell 
  no that feels somehow
     less effective less
          accurate

SCREAM
SCREAM
SCREAM
(I'm going to open my window and)
(so the world is my witness and)
S C R E A M

Wall to wall output
Blank page, what is worth saying?
Insight hard to find 

Here are the original and the “erased” out notes. It’s from this interview with Bobby Weir.

ok til next time ily bye bye

Constant reminders of our own mortality. Maybe I should just 
dance in my kitchen,
drink that wine,
quit my job,
call her & tell her I love her,
before it’s too late.

But then again,

they promise us a few good years
at the end
if we just
work hard enough
fast enough
cheap enough
if we
buy enough,
ignore enough--
if we
obey enough  

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tysm for reading