Instead of the usual everyday magic, here is the holiday card that I posted onto Facebook for my friends.
For the past two years, I’ve been hassling the family to take a hike in the hills above our house. Once you get up the slope, it’s an easy jaunt down the old mining road.
About a half a mile in, you come across the foundation of an old building. I have no idea about its original purpose, but it’s now a canvas for graffiti artists and a delight for the occasional wanderer.
The kids jumped around this colorful place as the sun set behind our heads, bathing the Las Vegas strip with a golden orange aura.
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While cleaning up our PC desktop, I found a photo from our visit to Museum of Contemporary Art San Diego at La Jolla last March.
This was quite the treat because Vegas regrettably is short on art museums.
It wasn’t easy to wrangle two young kids around high priced pieces of art; the guards were not amused. But after years of not seeing high art, it was so totally worth it.
With a location a block away from the Pacific ocean, this museum was magic for sure, though hardly “everyday”.
Here’s to finding magic throughout the new year!
A five year old dangerously close to a Peter Alexander sculpture
Sixteen years ago, I was trapped in the studio over Christmas because the master’s thesis was presented in early January. During a sleep deprived break, I slammed together a silly holiday email to friends and family.
That started a personal tradition of sending a physical postcard at the end of every year. After the kids arrived, I went digital with three cards — for work, family, and social media.
Each December, I comb through our photos and clean up my contacts. It’s a great way to re-live the year and still a lot faster than handwritten postcards.
Please enjoy this selected history from my post graduate life (minus the family mugshots!)
2024
New job with the airport, so I’m starting with an establishing shot. As part of Planning, I doubt there will be many jobsite photos, and even then I would be concerned about security clearances. I suspect future photos will be interesting details found around the public areas of this small city.
2023
After the completing the building, we discovered that it did not have enough safety factor for the fire sprinkler system water pressure. We spent half a million dollars replacing the backflow prevention devices with low pressure loss units. It was an incredible headache, but the team worked hard together, and it could have been much worse.
2022
The stucco exterior wall of an building for mental health services. This was originally built as an outdoor stage. It’s now a mechanical room and the seating area has been fenced-in as a yard for the chiller. One of the highlights of 2023 was when the architect on this project joined our division.I’ve been blessed to work with great people.Same photo with a giant holiday greeting in the sky. We decided to play it safe. As a government worker, it’s prudent to be slightly boring.
2021
A partially ground concrete slab where the polishing was stopped where the future carpet finish would be installed.The transparency glitched as I was picking the font, inspiring a this frenetic postcard with lots of words and some strange bars on the sides. As with 2022, we stuck with the moderately stale option for final distribution.
2020
A construction photo of the central stairs at the new Education Building at Nevada State College. During the pandemic, I would visit the jobsite on my own on Sundays. It was a meditative activity.
2019
An odd clerestory (without windows) in an administrative building for a agency serving disabled clients. I have no clue what the original architect was trying to do, but the best perk of being an architect is discovering into oddball conditions like this.
2018
A pit toilet at Valley of Fire State Park foregrounded by red desert sands and scrubby bushes. This photo has been the wallpaper on my work phone ever since. It was so hot that the Ranger’s station had a giant sign warning against hiking in the park.
2017
A flash of lights from the Cactus Garden Christmas display at the Ethel M Chocolate Factory in Henderson. At the time you could just walk up and meander. They now charge for entry and it takes an hour to get in.
2016
Looking up at the ceiling and the queue monitor at the Clark County Building Department. Now, everything is submitted digitally and the building is a ghost town.
2015
Blurred lights inside a bus. The readable neon is written in English, but it was taken in China. I pray for peace between these two superpowers. A few leaders will “win” while the rest of the us suffer greatly. I’d almost feel sorry for ourselves, but then I remember we still have the great privilege of being inside the empire instead of being among those outside looking in.
2013
Our loaded truck for moving out to Las Vegas. The compartment is only half filled because this was the smallest truck that could tow our car.
2012
Two rabbits chilling underneath a coffee table, Peppercorn is splayed out on the floor while Badger is washing his white face.
2011
The dining area after the bookshelf had an unfortunate reckoning with gravity. The homemade shelving system was based on something my dad used years ago in from a Sunset book, but Ikea is too cheap to beat now.
2007
An eye-bleeding page with horrific fonts married to diagrams and preliminary renderings from my master’s thesis project. I’m awful at graphic design, but I have fun making bad graphics.
And with this, I am finally, fully done with “work-work” for the year! What am I going to do with myself next week (and how shall I survive the tsunami of delayed tasks in 2024)?
I don’t believe in Baby Jesus no more so I Christmas all the Harder
I grew up conservative Christian. And Asian-American. My parents left Hong Kong and Taiwan and met here in the States. With the clarity of immigrants, they sensed that Christmas was a frivolous, secular holiday.
When my sister and I were teens, they gave in. We started exchanging small gifts. My mom added small decorations around to the house but never bothered with a tree.
We still drove down to LA from the Bay Area on Christmas because traffic was lighter. We’d eat at my grandparent’s favorite dim sum place in Monterey Park. (My aunt suspected that they liked that spot because the tea was brewed extra strong.)
We didn’t buck the holiday, but we never gave it religious significance. For a real Christian, every day is Christmas and Easter. Picking out holy-days still feels kind of pagan.
I drifted away when I grew up. It didn’t do much for me emotionally, and I finally bailed when George W. Bush co-opted the religious establishment to support his optional war. Even so, I always planned on taking my kids to church on Christmas, so they could feel the religious origins of this season.
That notion died with the election of the Trump. My wife (never religious) was so disgusted with white evangelicals that she didn’t want our kids anywhere near such cruel hypocrites nor be tempted by the pomp and circumstance of their celebration.
Instead, every year I put up a plastic tree from Ikea on Thanksgiving, buy a few toys, wrap the last six months of library book sale finds in old architectural printouts, watch a Christmas movie, and clean everything up on New Year’s Day.
Last year ago, I told my daughter the myth of Jesus. It blew her mind. I might as well have grown a third head (or narrated the nsfw story of Lot and his daughters).
An all-powerful deity came down to this filthy planet to be born in horse shit, grow up as a carpenter, start a small cult as a wandering sage, only to be executed in excruciating fashion. All to pay the blood penalty for the evil committed by his own shithead creatures.
So here I am, suddenly marveling at the magic of Christmas. Say what you will about the religion, that’s an awesome story.
A month later, I had to get better paper. Cheap steno pads are great for work, but they don’t show inks at their finest.
Hedonic treadmill!
Rhodia paper is great (as advertised!) Love the smooth buttery slide. The colors pop. They shade.
Every morning I’d draw a hand in this book. (Whoa! Minus ten pages of doodles, that means I have about a hundred fifty hands in here!)
I barely used the dots. If given a choice I’d go blank. (Then again, it was nice to have guides for the few times I played with calligraphy.)
Absolutely love the square. I don’t have to compose a sketch for the rectangle. 1:1 simplifies the mind before pen strikes paper.
But I’m not tossing out the other sketchbooks. I’m far too cheap to abandon unused paper.
In the meantime, I hope Rhodia keeps making these Reverse Books. (I’ll be back.)
It’s been a good year for my hand. With the new fountain pen habit, I’ve started a morning journal / sketching / calligraphy practice. And worked through several small notebooks (random product show gifts) at the dinner table. I’m slowly getting over my old hangups about sketching.
Much as I hate to admit it, social media+consumerism sometimes hits the spot.
Postscript — I restarted my Blick 5.5″ x8.5″ sketchbook with this note:
Christmas 2023 Restarting a new-old notebook & drying up old pens. I wonder what will show up on these pages? What will be discerned in manipulating pen & ink on paper — privileges unthinkable to our ancestors of previous generations. When paper was a fucking trade secret. In a fraught time — we still owe the world our art. To much has been given — lets return this gift to the present (and maybe the future too.)
The Sunday after Thanksgiving, we went to the park to so they could ride their bikes. He proudly said knew how to ride a bike. I said, not really — I had taken the training wheels off his bike. He was unhappy about the change but made a go at it. Not perfect and couldn’t keep it up for a sustained period…but he did it!
In the month since, his skill has jumped with each trip to the park. He needs to learn how to brake, but it’s remarkable how quickly they pick things up!
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I finished grad school in time to get slammed by the Great Recession. I avoided being laid off but dropped to 30 hours a week. I spent some of those extra 10 hours as regular at Cafe Brasil.
When things picked up, I still showed up on Friday mornings to sip an espresso before heading out to the office. I’d ponder the week that was almost complete and consider the coming weekend.
Normally these sessions wouldn’t result in any insight. I’d often just chat with another regular. But occasionally something would pop up. Once in a blue moon the “brilliant” idea might surprisingly turn out to actionable.
Unfortunately, adulting means outgrowing a loving parent who can disappear training wheels at the right moment. A distant second best may be regular semi-contemplative practice to reset the mind.
A few nights ago, kids brought Mommy Bear, Daddy Bear, and Adventure for my bedtime. They also gave me an old sweater to dress Daddy Bear. I put it on him this morning, brought in Bear Bear and took a family portrait.
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This post is an example of why I am such a huge proponent of sharing your work online, again and again over time.
Can you see it? (Clue: I’ll keep original formatting on the previous alphabet.)
As I was setting this post up for this next round of images, I accidentally hit a comma instead of a period.
Of course! I always wanted an non-intrusive spacer, and what’s smaller than a period? But a period is a touch too insubstantial and carries weight as an ending. A comma is a tad bigger and actually means “pause”.
It took me six posts to figure this out….or sixty-one posts including my OPM letters, which used a ~ tilde. I could have never thought this up in the abstract.
A digital space of your own gives you the space to grow. It lets you experiment one step at a time. Just start! With something imperfect! Now!
And one day, the gods may grant you a flash of insight, possibly the perfect typo at the right time. But you gotta show up, again and again.
Holiday Soul, Bobby Timmons — This instrumental album holds its own beyond Christmas. Bobby Timmons is an amazing pianist, obscured due to his early death. For non-Christmas fare check out Chicken & Dumplin’s and Chun-King on youtube.
A Charlie Brown Christmas, Vince Guaraldi Trio — This album kicked off our jazz kick at home and is still great. Actually, I wonder if this album is why my current personal jazz preferences leans towards trios.
She balanced the spoon on the edge of her bowl and had me record it for posterity. In the meanwhile he snuck away from the table, most likely to google Pokémon while she read her ebook.
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In the theme of “E”, shout out to Everyday Magic thread on Notes. Every Saturday Charlene Story starts a thread for people to share their beautiful mundane worlds. Here’s the one from last week.
Every few weeks, I collect my recent contributions for this blog series. While there, I wander through all the entries. It’s a great mental reset to walk the world through others’ eyes (and be jealous of everyone else’s luscious green landscapes!)
Starting a thread once a week might not seem like a big effort. But having blogged on a schedule, I know how hard it is to act consistently without fail over months, which is why I don’t blog on a schedule now!
So thanks again Charlene, for being our wonderful Everyday Magic host!
Let’s start with the biggest and most important numbers: 1,501 posts and 5,663 days.
Everything starts with the work. Do it. Do it again. And again.
But that’s boring, and let’s be real — I’m not banging out an analysis of “5663”.
Like many writers, I check the dashboard every few days and was pleasantly surprised to see that I had finally crossed the 100 subscriber mark on Substack!
Whoohoo! But this screenshot only tells the last 3.8% of the story. Here’s the rest of it.
I started Grizzlypear.com in June of 2008 with two readers — me and my dad. (My girlfriend, now wife, never reads my ramblings cause she gets plenty in real time.)
Thirteen years later, I still had two readers. I would occasionally try to increase visibility to no avail, aside from Facebook spamming me to pay for a boost to the most recent post.
In mid-2021, I started an industry related newsletter. Even though the effort fizzled out in a few months, the effort got me onto Mailchimp with ten more ten readers, including my mom and sister, friends and three folks I’ve never met IRL!
About a year ago, I joined Post where I met a great crowd but after they slow-walked critical features, I jumped to Notes this April along with seven fellow travelers.
For the first few months I posted daily and grew steadily. Then September got crazy so I dropped down to a weekly schedule and growth slowed. So here is how I got to 113 readers:
What do I make of it all?
I’m an early 21st century anachronism with a personal blog. I entered that scene as it was being strangled by Social Media™, but I kept my site because I loved having my own home on the internet.
However, if you wanna grow, you gotta do what Zig Ziglar advises “You can get anything you want if you help enough people get what they want.” Or if you forgo the self help business, then be “so good that they can’t ignore you” (as quipped by Steve Martin).
These fifteen years of blogging taught me that it’s OK to just enjoy a hobby. I have a great job. I don’t need an audience to serve. I’m allowed to be a dilettante, exploring the arts without the discipline or patience to become great at anything.
I might be a disappointment to Zig and Steve, but I’ve had fun archiving these meanderings (board games, business books, sourdough bread, sketches, poetry, calligraphy) for future reference.
And then Substack swooped in to distribute this work and connect into a network of creatives. Notes is a great place to keep me inspired and challenged. So here we are, with this email slamming into a hundred inboxes!
Yes, this is just number, but it’s cool — three digits of cool! After more than a decade of silence, it’s gratifying to know people want to see my next letter. And it’s nice to get feedback. (Dopamine!)
Would I be bummed if the count slides back down? Of course, I’m human. But it is just a number. If my interests go weird, I wouldn’t want to force y’all to follow along. I’ll keep writing cause this is my practice.
Blogging is a good practice. The world might not need your input, but you need your input. Writing publicly forces us to look carefully and to process the richness that surrounds us. Write what you see, and your soul comes into focus.
Do it long enough and you’ll find a few folks to accompany the journey.
Jump in! Five thousand days later, you might stumble upon a goldmine of email addresses!
Ever since the got a Pikachu stuffie from the claw machine at the Primm Mural Gallery (formerly an outlet mall), they’ve been into Pokemon. He wanted a Pikachu and she drew an Eevee with a witches hat. Their lights from the jack-o-lanterns left a bold mark on the ceiling.
The unseasonably warm autumn meant that these poor pumpkins went mold in a couple of days. But still, it was a day of carving and a few good photos.
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That Pikachu might have been the most impactful dollar that we’ve spent (for good or ill). It’s turned into a costume, a change in TV habits. Pokemon Go has me walking in circles around the house to hatch eggs and the kids just forced me to try out the Pokemon Sleep tracking app. They’re constantly drawing different Pokemon when they aren’t playing. He’ll walk up and start talking about random creatures and evolutions, without no explanation or context (of course!)
I recently heard on the Cortex podcast that Pokemon may be the most successful IP of all time. It’s hard to argue from this household. Lord help us if we get into the TCG card game, or if we ever get a Nintendo.
