See. Saw.

As I've shifted gears from making videos to making software this week, focusing my time on building the framework behind the monsters, I've thought a lot about how heavily what we're doing affects what we see.

When all you have is a hammer, the whole world looks like a nail, Maslow noted, and he had a point.

Even two weeks ago, when I was making the videos, I was here, present in the visual details of the world, my mind watching closely for any change in light, weather, sound. At all times, ready to grab the camera and mic and go.

Now, making software again, my world is largely bottled up inside my head, full of data abstractions and systems and tools, figuring out how to architect, build, wire things together in a way that will last into the future.

In the past week, I can tell you very little about the world outside other than it's winter. But I can share a lot about abstractions of ideas, tools for building, and the joyous way that the world keeps marching on, keeps trying to make things better, even when we're not looking.

The lived difference between these two weeks is so vast, it makes me wonder about the nature of truth. How much of what we believe and see is down to what we spend our time looking at.

And I think about language, this shared pool of little blocks with no inherent meaning, all of us tossing them around, meaning slightly different things every time. And about how somehow, out of that crazy chaos, the whole thing actually works.

That you can understand me, with my funny multi-home accent, halfway across the world.

That we can connect, feel similar emotions, work together to make meaning of what to do with this sunrise.

And I'm left grateful. To be here. To notice. To get to squeeze another sunrise in.

Have full days this week,

-Steven

p.s. The best thing I read this week corrected some misconceptions I had about fish. Turns out, they're smarter than we think.