Every crossing leaves something in us we can’t always name. Three verbs sort what I do with it. A note enters as a capture, earns its roots, and leaves free.
The immediate observation. Drafts, written the day it happened. Unpolished on purpose.
A pair of bulbuls outside the window at Network School. He feeds her first. Notes on offering before asking.
Small operating tricks I repeat to friends until I finally write them down.
Thought through and traced to its origin. A note stays here until I know where it came from.
The road not taken does not vanish. You carry it, and it charges interest.
Health is capital. The returns arrive in the decade you stopped planning for.
Before the ledger and before the law, we pointed at a thing and gave it a name.
Refined and published. Freed from the garden into the world, with its distillation trail attached.
What a sport looks like when the goal is to still be playing at eighty.
The attack economics I published in 2018. Covered by Investopedia, Cointelegraph, and The Next Web. The attack arrived in January 2019.
A measure of how much attack a chain can absorb before the economics tip.
Price charts assume human hours. Chains keep their own time.
Some crossings only fit in a poem. Two, on film and on paper.