oceanblue

Notes kept in the same color as the sea, far from shore.

Where the Light Gathers

I keep this place the way some people keep a notebook by the kitchen window — not for anyone in particular, but close at hand, in case something worth writing down passes through.

My days are spent somewhere between teams and decisions, and most of what ends up here started as a note on the margin of something else — a meeting, a walk, a slow afternoon when the light was good.

If you've wandered in, you're welcome to stay. There's tea on, most days.

What the Tide Is Carrying

Below the Quiet Surface

The addresses we keep

There's a difference between an inbox and a home. I think about what it takes to build the second kind online — the small, boring choices that quietly shape how we're recognized over decades.

Tools that age well

The command line has outlived most of its obituaries. I'm curious what it still knows about craft that louder software has forgotten.

Reading at length

Most of what I learn now arrives in fragments — a paragraph, a quote, a thread someone screenshotted. The long argument is harder to hold than it used to be, and I want to keep the muscle for it.

Two languages, one life

Moving daily between English and Chinese — noticing what each one lets me say, and what each one quietly takes away.

Found in the Margins

"We shape our tools, and thereafter our tools shape us."
John Culkin
"Attention is the rarest and purest form of generosity."
Simone Weil
"A domain is the only piece of the internet you can actually own."
overheard, somewhere
Lately in the stack:

A Signal in Low Light

If you've read this far, you might as well write. For work, for a good book recommendation, or for no reason at all.