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Last weekend I moved to another apartment. While my old neighborhood wasn’t terrible, there were things about my former apartment my wife and I had grown tired of over the past two years. We were on the third floor with no elevator, and the rooms were ungodly hot during the summer months. The laundry machine downstairs never seemed to work. Snow plows would trap our car in during winter, and the groundskeepers rarely shoveled. The garbage truck would wake me up at 6AM. We had a package stolen. These are all “first-world problems,” of course, but now that I’m in much better financial straits, we decided to move.


Our new community is more beautiful than any place I’ve ever lived. We’re just outside the city of Albany, but it may as well be in another country. The buildings have red brick facades and a weathered European flair. Behind the apartments is a massive courtyard, surrounded by trees and dotted with street lamps that follow a path around the complex. Wooden benches and a swing set can be found in the grass. If one stands at the hill where the complex starts, they can look across the lawn and down into verdant hills.



This all still feels like a dream. I’ve never lived anywhere so nice–my college campuses came close. I’m hoping to take a long, slow walk around the grounds soon, maybe sit on a bench and do some drawing or watercolors. Do I still remember how to do art?

Although the Myers-Briggs assessment has fallen out of favor for the Big 5, I’ve derived a lot of personal insight from knowing I’m an INTJ. In recent days I’ve found myself revisiting the nuances of my type in order to understand how I cope with stress. Continue reading “Energy”

I went out to Long Island last weekend with my friend, Tom. We spent a couple nights in a tick-riddled home in the middle of Southold, where a bulldog next door kept rushing at us with friendly intent. The weather was sunny during the day, and mostly clear at night. We traveled to the local observatory, and I got to see Jupiter through a telescope for the first time. The purpose of our trip was a creative retreat, a respite from the business of lives that otherwise do not pause without intervention. Continue reading “Mid Year Jolt”


i don’t often associate writing with escapism. i typically describe writing as a means for my subconscious mind to process thoughts and feelings into concrete form. fiction or nonfiction, writing helps crystalize that which has no explicit form other than through zaps of electrical synapses. like any form of information, there needs to be a substrate; writing transfers info from brain to world. Continue reading “wanderlust”