We all have dreams.

Words from Mark Borchardt, an unusual source of wisdom that reminded me how poorly I balance what’s important.

I chip away at the integrity of my ambitions to maintain meaningful relationships, and chip away at my meaningful relationships to maintain my ambitions. Sounds balanced, but it never is. Always leaning too much one way or the other. I just can’t find it.

It could be argued that I want too much. But is there such a thing as too much, if one is willing to do the work?

I really don’t know.

My favorite piece of dialogue from There Will Be Blood.

Watch this.

Left to right, Shweb, Dan, Charlie, Frankie, Chris, me, and Anthony. I was probably 11. Was one hell of water balloon fight. Anthony’s mom, Sally, took this picture. I can’t imagine an image that better captures how we grew up.

We’d spend our days seeing who could throw what the farthest. Who was the fastest. Who was the bravest, which typically entailed wrestling Frankie. He had such a strength advantage, that anyone only ever agreed to wrestle him if he was on his knees. We were wild and we ran like it, and the suburbs was our place to do it. Couldn’t have gown up anywhere better. Not specifically my hometown, but just the fact that it was the suburbs.

I live in the urban sprawl of Los Angeles now, a long ways from my hometown. I like it here, but didn’t always. It’s the people I’ve found and the girl I love that make it what it is for me. It’s where I belong now, but I couldn’t imagine being a kid here. I don’t know that I could have grown if not in suburban soil. I don’t know that any kid could. Confinement and wild freedom seem at odds. For that, I think some far off day, I may belong to those suburbs again.

One of my favorites.

This is my new standard. Art Director Linds Redding published these words in an article on his blog last March, and died of cancer the following October. The article is called A Short Lesson in Perspective and is one of the rawest pieces of writing I’ve ever read.

I’ve gotten out of bed In the middle of night to remove art I just published, out of fear of upsetting people by morning. Fuck that.

If I truly believe in what I’m doing, and I do, then I shouldn’t ever feel sorry for the things I do here. I can offer no apologies. Close your eyes if you have to. This is my new standard. We’ll see if I have enough spine to honor it.

My girlfriend’s five year old niece said this when asked what her favorite color was. I told her it was a very good answer.

“Dissatisfaction is a symptom of ambition. It is the coal that fuels the fire.”

“If you can’t win, cheat.”

—Dad

My answer was forgotten, but I’m glad. My words just cripple my thoughts.

Line from one of my favorite films.

He sounded terrible, but sure is one hell of a thing to have inscribed on your tombstone.

A quote excerpt from Antoine de Saint-Exupery. One of a few doodles mailed to my friend Erin, on her birthday.

Dan is one of my best friends. He’s a good guy, through and through.

This was his reply to our very dainty friend Michelle, when she was in pain from bumping her knee into I can’t remember what. I thought it was quite classy though.

You can find me howling at the moon.