I’ve worked in education and youth development for years, and I keep coming back to one question: how do technology, education, and personal development fit together? Is it possible to bridge the digital divide without sacrificing the curiosity and growth we humans are capable of?
I’ve always struggled to fit all I want to do into a single day. So I’ve been working on tools to help me make room for everything that matters. Not to optimize or hustle, but to look at the whole of a life: body, mind, home, money, people, art, and move it toward the world I actually want to live in.
I like building things whose insides are real. The shore behind this page is Lake Michigan from the north side, and it keeps your clock and your season — the sun comes up out of the water when it really does, and the moon is in the phase it is really in.
Then I hide things in there worth catching: the fireflies over the dry sand, the plover, ten unlabeled minutes you might be here for and might miss entirely. Come back tomorrow and there will be something in it that isn’t here today. It just has to be worth opening when you do.
None of it gets built by hand alone. I direct AI to do it, and I’m good at that part. Claude especially: long working sessions where I set the rules a project has to hold to, catch the thing that came out wrong, and send it back until the insides are real. The shore, the chart wheel below, the Inner Library app, an astrology console — all built that way.
The line I keep is simple. I use AI to build projects, not to write my thoughts. The essays are mine, sentence by sentence. I am a playful writer, and prose is the craft I taught. The tools around them are built with a model. Keeping those two straight matters to me.
Virgo sun Leo moon Libra rising
My chart. Point at anything in it.
Each count is a pair of bodies — one line on the wheel.
Questions, ideas, or just to say hi. I read everything.