Greg Moore

Autumn’s beauty continues to fill my walks with joy.

Another face coming out of the night as our train steams by.

These woods are no place for children.

Some days are like jittery, malicious clockwork — sometimes things freeze mid-movement and we age several years in a few seconds.

My camera sensor couldn’t handle this morning’s sunrise with my maple tree in full autumnal glory.

No simple story can ever be true, and there is no simpler story than nothing means anything.

You encounter some spooky characters on the night’s last haunted train ride at Greenfield Village.

A lot of people who are less good characters often are just very compassionate, which makes them wonderful people, because they’re not thermostats, they’re thermometers, they kind of reflect the temperature of the room.

So happy to have a physical copy of both the Over The Garden Wall series and now the soundtrack.

Our tree has bloomed into the full fall spectrum and I am literally here for it, having enjoyed significant time admiring it throughout the weekend.

One of the more enjoyable parts of reaching an age where nostalgia-based media is being created for you, is discovering that tons of people also loved the “weird” things you did, they just all attended different schools.

It can seem like every time you grow into a new life, it immediately outgrows you.

I welcome the fall colors and temperatures with open arms.

While enjoying coffee on a beautiful day, this giant carpenter bee floated by and settled onto the edge of my brother in-law’s shorts.

The quality of the equipment or tools that you use is more relevant the less experienced you are.

Tell me you came of age in the 90’s without telling me: Spending my Saturday labeling CD’s

Time will pass whether you start that new thing or not; ten years from now, will you wish you’d spent ten years learning that new thing, or be content to be ten years older but still without that new skill?

THE most old man morning I could have: woke up before 7am, had indigestion from too much garlic at dinner, needed to fix a work thing I forgot last night, and decided to watch the sunrise while exercising

Enjoying a post-thunderstorm walk through the sunset.

A wicked storm shot past us last night, filling the sky with so much lightening that I was able to catch a few.

We somehow managed to find ways to carefully store 12+ years of our daughter’s art but all we’ve really done is buy ourselves time to figure out where even more are going to go when she brings them home.

Took a walk to enjoy the blood moon.

This bird has flown and her mother and I left our hearts in Ann Arbor.

We got her a new toy as an apology for being gone so long.

View atop Sleeping Bear Dunes.

The ferry was rocking and rolling on Lake Huron so much that I’m impressed my camera managed this shot of The Mighty Mack.

Asking the lovely woman at the front desk of our not-fancy hotel provided us with the perfect dinner recommendation.

Tahquamenon Falls State Park

The fix is not a better way of highlighting, but building in friction: forcing yourself to retrieve, explain or generate something without the source at hand.

A high-profile influencer can mobilize a following within hours of posting a standout dish at a restaurant, creating demand for a menu item that can’t possibly be sustained—all to re-create a moment that wasn’t theirs to begin with.

Another evening visit to the restored rouge river.

I am this many years old

When I got to art as an undergraduate student, I felt like, oh, this is amazing.

Full moonrise

After decades of being buried beneath a shitty parking lot, like a lifted curse, the failed racetrack’s demolition has finally allowed the river to rejoin the world.

It would’ve been a hugely valuable lesson years ago, to realize that it’s not simply that my journals and sketchpads don’t need to be perfect.

These cooling winds are quite welcome in July.

If we allow these [AI] tools to dictate our visual culture, we must accept that it will be vitrified by machines which consider a few billion webpages equivalent to the sum total of human existence.

It’s Canadian wildfire season again

The gate swings open and the dungeon reveals itself before you…

The number of personal projects that AI has killed continues unabated.