Soft skills don’t show up in Jira or sprint demos. But they shape how teams move, how trust builds, and whether the work actually sticks.
Games teach you how to take on challenges stacked against you. Work and life are no different. The only question: given the board, how will you play?
Ideas don’t just appear. You train for them. Scribbles, scraps, silent reps. Practice when nobody’s watching so you’re ready when it counts.
The work isn’t about outdoing your best. It’s about showing up, writing through doubt, and stacking small steps until they become something bigger.
Decisions aren’t clean. They’re messy. A conversation between your head, heart, gut, and hands. They collide, they argue. And when the moment comes, it’s always the same: a leap of faith.
Every rabbit hole has a lesson. Get lost in one long enough, and you’ll stumble into the spark that makes the whole thing worthwhile.
I used to hide behind polish. Now I share duct-tape prototypes and half-formed ideas. Not because they’re ready—but because trying is how you see.
Every setup carries its own lineage. Small tweaks, odd influences, old obsessions—all stacking until one small change shifts everything.
Clarity often comes sideways. Tilt your view, reframe the problem, squint at the shape—sometimes that’s all it takes to make the work speak back.
I don’t just use my voice to capture thoughts — I use it to find them. Speaking is often how I work through the mess to figure out what I really want to say.
Fast lines. Fuzzy edges. Space to squint and imagine. Sketching is how we turn ideas into something we can see, shape, and bring to life.
Pay attention to how you work, not just what you work on — you might uncover a better workflow hiding in plain sight.
I discovered wordplay years ago — now it’s part of my daily practice. Crafting lines that stick, shift perspective, and make the ordinary unforgettable… or at least a bit interesting.
A good name doesn’t explain. It distills. It makes the invisible feel tangible — not by describing it, but by daring to claim it.
What started as cleaning turned into something else: a way to reconnect with the parts of me that still believe in building things that matter.