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You only have one chance to make a first impression. The impression you leave in the first minutes stays far longer than you think. People hold on to what they decided first and rarely shift it. They don’t revisit it unless they have to, that’s just how it works.
You only have one chance to make a first impression. The impression you leave in the first minutes stays far longer than you think. People hold on to what they decided first and rarely shift it. They don’t revisit it unless they have to, that’s just how it works.
Human memory is incredibly frail, and I've watched professionals who should know better insist their recall is flawless even when every bit of research says the opposite. I've seen certainty melt the moment a single question nudges it.
Human memory is incredibly frail, and I've watched professionals who should know better insist their recall is flawless even when every bit of research says the opposite. I've seen certainty melt the moment a single question nudges it.
Science tells us that putting pen to paper helps hardwire thoughts into the brain in ways typing can’t. When a conundrum shows up it often stalls because it only lives in the head. Write it down. That’s the moment your thinking becomes more solid.
Science tells us that putting pen to paper helps hardwire thoughts into the brain in ways typing can’t. When a conundrum shows up it often stalls because it only lives in the head. Write it down. That’s the moment your thinking becomes more solid.
When danger is clear the body acts before thought can catch up. A shelf begins to creak and muscles surge with adrenaline and we move without hesitation. The message is loud and clear. Quick! Danger! Run! The body protects us before the mind has time to to explain it.
When danger is clear the body acts before thought can catch up. A shelf begins to creak and muscles surge with adrenaline and we move without hesitation. The message is loud and clear. Quick! Danger! Run! The body protects us before the mind has time to to explain it.
The rise and fall of attention is the natural cadence of the human condition. We’re not built to keep everything in focus and sometimes our attention simply gets pulled elsewhere. That moment often gets mistaken for failure when it’s really part of how we live.
The rise and fall of attention is the natural cadence of the human condition. We’re not built to keep everything in focus and sometimes our attention simply gets pulled elsewhere. That moment often gets mistaken for failure when it’s really part of how we live.
We often compare ourselves to people who seem ahead, and we overlook the quiet reality that most of us live with comforts our great grandparents never had. This insidious habit of upward comparison quietly erodes a part of our mental health without us noticing.
We often compare ourselves to people who seem ahead, and we overlook the quiet reality that most of us live with comforts our great grandparents never had. This insidious habit of upward comparison quietly erodes a part of our mental health without us noticing.
Adulthood and kids of our own narrows the space we once had for those who shaped our early selves. It's not so much a decision for someone to leave as much as the often simple arrival of “life" taking over. Time makes choices for us without consultation.
Adulthood and kids of our own narrows the space we once had for those who shaped our early selves. It's not so much a decision for someone to leave as much as the often simple arrival of “life" taking over. Time makes choices for us without consultation.
People often point out what success isn’t and quote the old line about nobody on their deathbed wishing they’d spent more time in the office. That always brings a wry smile and yet many people feel they don’t choose freely when the basics are uncertain.
People often point out what success isn’t and quote the old line about nobody on their deathbed wishing they’d spent more time in the office. That always brings a wry smile and yet many people feel they don’t choose freely when the basics are uncertain.
When steel protective helmets were first issued in World War 1 the head injury numbers suddenly spiked out of all proportion. Generals were shocked by the numbers and became convinced that the helmets, despite medical advice, were somehow making things a lot worse.
When steel protective helmets were first issued in World War 1 the head injury numbers suddenly spiked out of all proportion. Generals were shocked by the numbers and became convinced that the helmets, despite medical advice, were somehow making things a lot worse.
During regular trips to the US I noticed a pattern across food ads. Pizza places and burger chains were pushing a new idea. “You’re not going to believe how we found another way to add more cheese.” The fast food industry was clearly moving in quiet lockstep.
During regular trips to the US I noticed a pattern across food ads. Pizza places and burger chains were pushing a new idea. “You’re not going to believe how we found another way to add more cheese.” The fast food industry was clearly moving in quiet lockstep.
It’s hard to understand something we’ve never seen before, so AI is being judged as if it will always be bad. In the past I was told that scanners weren't good enough, then that digital cameras weren't good enough. What was missing? The word "now”.
It’s hard to understand something we’ve never seen before, so AI is being judged as if it will always be bad. In the past I was told that scanners weren't good enough, then that digital cameras weren't good enough. What was missing? The word "now”.
I wear shirts over short sleeve T’s, and there’s a thing I’ve noticed going through airport security. If my shirt’s unbuttoned, they treat it like a jacket, so it has to come off. Button it up, and I pass through. Same shirt, same me. But it’s either stop or go.
I wear shirts over short sleeve T’s, and there’s a thing I’ve noticed going through airport security. If my shirt’s unbuttoned, they treat it like a jacket, so it has to come off. Button it up, and I pass through. Same shirt, same me. But it’s either stop or go.
I found myself caught this week thinking I wouldn’t be able to start something until I was ready. I am photographing trains for a children’s book and I couldn’t figure out a safe way to shoot one and make it look like it was deep in the countryside.
I found myself caught this week thinking I wouldn’t be able to start something until I was ready. I am photographing trains for a children’s book and I couldn’t figure out a safe way to shoot one and make it look like it was deep in the countryside.
This weekend look for a scene with some possibilities. The window dresser created one, and the space around her suggested that someone passing by could shift the feel of the image. The first shot shows how it looked when I arrived.
This weekend look for a scene with some possibilities. The window dresser created one, and the space around her suggested that someone passing by could shift the feel of the image. The first shot shows how it looked when I arrived.
Sometimes a scent pulls you back through time. The moment it reaches you, everything stops and you’re back in a place that feels alive, familiar and strangely safe. If you remember it after all this time, it matters.
Sometimes a scent pulls you back through time. The moment it reaches you, everything stops and you’re back in a place that feels alive, familiar and strangely safe. If you remember it after all this time, it matters.
I’ve always had random, sudden sneezing fits that last five or ten minutes. When they happen, I can do nothing, I have to stop everything. I believed it a stress trigger, because they always appeared when I was busy or deeply focused on something that mattered.
I’ve always had random, sudden sneezing fits that last five or ten minutes. When they happen, I can do nothing, I have to stop everything. I believed it a stress trigger, because they always appeared when I was busy or deeply focused on something that mattered.
Sometimes the simple act of being forced to wait changes how we think. When we can’t hurry the moment, our attention sharpens. Light shifts, clouds move, and what was once background becomes the only thing that matters. The waiting itself starts to quiet the mind.
Sometimes the simple act of being forced to wait changes how we think. When we can’t hurry the moment, our attention sharpens. Light shifts, clouds move, and what was once background becomes the only thing that matters. The waiting itself starts to quiet the mind.
We don’t just see the world, we see what we’ve learned to look for. The brain’s filter, the reticular activating system, clears away what it thinks is ordinary. You hang new art in your hallway and admire it each day, then within weeks it’s disappeared.
We don’t just see the world, we see what we’ve learned to look for. The brain’s filter, the reticular activating system, clears away what it thinks is ordinary. You hang new art in your hallway and admire it each day, then within weeks it’s disappeared.
Sometimes it’s the little things that hold the most power. A note not sent, a message waiting for a reply, a tool left where it doesn’t belong. They seem minor, yet keep part of your brain tied up and pull at your focus throughout the week.
Sometimes it’s the little things that hold the most power. A note not sent, a message waiting for a reply, a tool left where it doesn’t belong. They seem minor, yet keep part of your brain tied up and pull at your focus throughout the week.
We often count what we got done and overlook what quietly improved. When we judge a week by output alone, we miss the softer evidence of growth. Our brains don’t record calm, they record tension, so we end up believing progress only happens when it’s visible.
We often count what we got done and overlook what quietly improved. When we judge a week by output alone, we miss the softer evidence of growth. Our brains don’t record calm, they record tension, so we end up believing progress only happens when it’s visible.
When I first traveled around Europe by train, I came home feeling as if I’d hunted a saber-tooth tiger. There was no danger, only the risk of missing a train, reading the signs wrong, or ending up in the wrong city. I came back more alive than when I left.
When I first traveled around Europe by train, I came home feeling as if I’d hunted a saber-tooth tiger. There was no danger, only the risk of missing a train, reading the signs wrong, or ending up in the wrong city. I came back more alive than when I left.
You take more photos in a week than your parents did in a year, yet you think you're not creative? The phone in your hand has made you a photographer without asking your permission. The only thing that hasn’t caught up is your awareness of it.
You take more photos in a week than your parents did in a year, yet you think you're not creative? The phone in your hand has made you a photographer without asking your permission. The only thing that hasn’t caught up is your awareness of it.
Discomfort isn’t a failure or a flaw, it’s your body’s way of saying something deeper is stirring. You might notice it in a meeting, a conversation, or even in silence. It’s the small tightening that tells you something important just happened.
Discomfort isn’t a failure or a flaw, it’s your body’s way of saying something deeper is stirring. You might notice it in a meeting, a conversation, or even in silence. It’s the small tightening that tells you something important just happened.
We rarely see the world as it is. The brain fills gaps, finishes stories, and filters details to keep from being overloaded. It’s trying to help, but it often jumps ahead of awareness. What we think we see is usually what we expect to see.
We rarely see the world as it is. The brain fills gaps, finishes stories, and filters details to keep from being overloaded. It’s trying to help, but it often jumps ahead of awareness. What we think we see is usually what we expect to see.
Notifications aren’t there to notify you anymore. They’re designed to pull you back in, even when there’s nothing to see. The alert itself has become the product, and every glance is another theft of attention you’ve learned to tolerate.
Notifications aren’t there to notify you anymore. They’re designed to pull you back in, even when there’s nothing to see. The alert itself has become the product, and every glance is another theft of attention you’ve learned to tolerate.