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A new year begins. A new slate of goals, hopes, promises. An inevitable slew of mistakes, failures, and heartbreaks. I’m in my 40s now. The routine is almost ritual.

And so we begin the search for meaning, the introspective pursuit of purpose. Or maybe just the drive to continue.

As 2018 begins, I’m not unhappy with my life or the choices I’ve made. I’ve had setbacks as well as opportunity. I’ve had privilege. I’ve had pain. I’ve been held back, at times, by circumstance but also by a reluctance to change. In such

Oh. Hello. Who are you? Have we met? I’m Kevin. Once upon a time, I tried to write here regularly. I failed. Now I’m curious why you’re still here?

To be fair, long gaps in my journaling/blogging/writing history are frequent. In some cases, the gaps have been without excuse. In other cases, the only legitimate excuse was laziness.

This most recent gap, however, possesses what I believe to be an unflimsical explanation:

I’ve been busy. But not normal busy.  For real busy. Productive busy. Gettin’ shit done busy.

As I mentioned previously, I spent

“Make the most of yourself by fanning the tiny, inner sparks of possibility into flames of achievement.” - Golda Meir

A new year. A new set of objectives. Well, technically, an old set of objectives refreshed in honor of the obsolete tradition of pinning a new calendar on the wall.

Everything learned and studied and pursued the past few years begins to bubble to the surface, accompanied by the ways and means to apply those hard-earned insights to creative endeavors.

I seem to finally understand what’s required to create instead of merely consume. Words. Photos. Movies. Apps. They’re