In a crate in my garage and a cabinet in my office are notebooks. Some spiral bound, some Moleskin, some gridded and some lined. Most of them are filled margin to margin with black ink scrawls.

Contained are ideas, sketches, concepts and designs. Penmanship that is sometimes loopy, sometimes hurried and sometimes angular and meticulous.

Some pages are dated and some are note. Numbers emerge with both dollar prefixes and without. Phone numbers, IP addresses, budgets and random figures without context.

Boxes, lines and arrows. Databases, objects, systems and servers. Home entertainment systems, server closets, data centers and software.

Occasionally a missive. “Why is it that I hate everyone right now?” or “Don’t forget: Amy’s birthday next week.”


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