Essays and reading notes: one person, thinking out loud
The jet bike and the van are made with my hands; this line is made with my head. It shares the same posture as those projects — thinking the unfinished thought, in public.
Someone might ask: why does a person who straps a jet engine to a bike also write essays?
Because underneath, they're the same thing. Building an engine is forcing an idea until it can run; writing an essay is forcing a feeling until it can be understood. Both are forcing something chaotic into something with a shape. That's the "posture" that makes this lab look unrelated on the surface but share one root underneath.
What this line is
- Essays — not chasing pretty writing, chasing true writing. Usually written right after a project crashes, when I sit down to work out what I was actually chasing.
- Reading notes — not excerpts. A record of me arguing with a book: what I agree with, and the exact page where I stopped to push back against the author.
A rule I set for myself
No "only publish when it's polished" bar. That feeds perfectionism and starves the sense of progress. The rule here is the reverse: a two-hundred-word thought I haven't fully worked out is still worth publishing. Figuring it out happens in the act of writing in public, not before.
So this line stays "active" forever — it has no finished state. As long as a person is still thinking, it's still growing.