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Dear Sir: As a Baltimore City resident, I work hard and dutifully to pay my property taxes each year.
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I left full time software consulting on the last day of February this year to pursue making art.
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My goodness, time sure is on an aggressive march.
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Hiring in tech has slowed to a grinding halt, and I'm currently looking for work.
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If you're a fallible human like me, you've made some mistakes in your past that you regret.
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A new collection of original art, Ink Into Winter, is now available for viewing.
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Recently I've been thinking a lot about "home".
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Pictured: I stumbled upon this band playing classic rock tunes as I made my way from the métro in NDG (details below).
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Pictured: A church I visited in Vieux-Montréal yesterday.
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Pictured: Marché Jean-Talon, a beautiful open-air year-round farmers' market just a block away from my flat in Montréal.
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One of the things I miss dearly from up north is the changing colors of the autumn leaves.
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I've returned to my client work as of yesterday, so I'm sure my updates will probably slow in the coming weeks as I focus more on that.
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Pictured above: Cafe Ferlucci, a charming little cafe on Castlenau a few blocks from my Montréal flat.
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Pictured: Place de Castlenau, a street in the Villeray neighborhood that, you guessed it, is closed to private automobiles during the summer.
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Pardon my French, haux haux haux...
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Apologies for the lack of updates for those of you hanging onto your seats wondering where I've been all weekend.
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Pictured: Inkwell Coffee House, a charming little cafe on Butler Street that has served as my writing room here in Pittsburgh.
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I have to check out of my flat here in Pittsburgh tomorrow morning, just as I've gotten into a bit of a groove here.
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I came to Pittsburgh with a single goal: To visit the Andy Warhol Museum.
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I woke up in the middle of the night on Saturday to the chaotic pitter-patter of rain drops on Vincent's back.
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Unfortunately the loft I rented for a couple nights was booked for the weekend, so I had to leave Pittsburgh for a few days.
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I came to the northeast principally to escape the oppressive Florida heat.
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I left Asheville early yesterday morning, stopping off at Izzy's cafe for an early morning cup of coffee on my way out of town.
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I returned to the loft after my morning coffee and writing to shed the clothes I'd donned in the chilly, overcast morning and prepare for my journey down the river to the Warhol Museum.
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Yesterday I breathed a sigh of relief as I returned to civilization and could finally take a proper shower again.
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I sauntered home from Haywood Rd and made a turkey sandwich inside Vincent's belly.
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The past few days have illuminated a truth that I think I've known since I moved to Florida, but that I tried very hard to escape: I'll always be a mountain man at heart.
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Yesterday I barreled (haha, get it?)
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There are only a few short days until I head northward from my home base in Saint Petersburg, Florida all the way to Montreal.
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I'm on a mission to change the way I love.
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When was the last time you had a good, long cry?
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Ever stop to think about how much we consume just to be outside?
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I forgot to tell you about my New Year's resolution: This year, I'm not buying anything.
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I'm a few months into my 35th year of life.
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Hello everyone!
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I've spent the better part of my life avoiding darkness and suffering.
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You've heard of the digital nomad: people who use telecommunications technologies to earn a living and conduct their life in a nomadic manner.
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I've noticed, over the course of my adult life, a tendency to oscillate gracefully between flaneur and entrepreneur, bon vivant and businessman, bohemian and industrialist.
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Ever since I watched the oh-so-vulnerable-to-skepticism movie The Secret back in 2007, I've been fascinated, in varying degree, by the central premise of the film that our thoughts create our reality.
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Awhile back I wrote about how I prepare coffee at home.
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Autumn is upon us.
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For years, I've actively battled my introversion.
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Today I got rid of my home office.
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There's a lot of talk about multiculturalism these days.
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I'm a terrible employee.
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This week, my partner handed me a copy of The Artist's Way by Julia Cameron.
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Last week, I packed up my (virtual) things and waved goodbye to my last bit of consulting work before the summer begins.
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This year, the stars have aligned to give me the opportunity of a lifetime: I'm taking a summer vacation.
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In the pursuit of having what we want now, we often set ourselves up for never having it at all.
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This weekend I took a solo retreat down to Eugene.