I’ve started a blog several times. Most attempts stalled within a few months. Partly because I picked a niche too narrow — Kubernetes field notes was the last one — and partly because I kept forgetting what writing is actually for.
For me it isn’t for an audience. It’s for thinking.
I’ll have a vague intuition about something, sit down to write a paragraph, and ten minutes in realize the intuition didn’t survive contact with sentences. The diagram I had in my head turns out not to compile. The reading I was working from doesn’t quite say what I thought it said. That’s the value: writing finds the gaps that thinking-in-your-head papers over.
So this notebook is a different premise from the ones before. It’s for me. Kept in public because writing for a vague hypothetical someone forces a level of clarity that private notes never reach — but the audience is incidental.
What lives here
Mostly whatever has my attention.
Software, often — Kubernetes most of my paid work: bare-metal clusters, identity, GPU runtimes, the small failures that take a week to find. But also AI papers I’m chewing on, math I keep wandering back to (my degree is in applied math; I haven’t found a way to leave it alone), design ideas, games that won’t leave me alone, the occasional philosophical thing without a clean answer.
The connective tissue isn’t a topic. It’s me.
What I’m trying not to do
Wait for things to be finished. A lot of what shows up here will be drafts I want to come back to. Some of it will be wrong — I’ll either fix the post or leave a note saying so — and that’s fine. Waiting for perfect is how I lost the last several years of writing I meant to do.
Chase an audience either. If you’re here, hi, and thank you. But the bar for whether a post exists is whether I learned something from writing it, not whether anyone else learned something reading it.
What I’m trying to do
Write small. Short notes. Reactions. Sketches of ideas. Not every entry needs to be an essay.
Write honestly. If I don’t understand something, I want the post to show that. If I change my mind later, I want the next post to show that too. The pretense of always-having-known is exhausting and not even useful.
Write more often than I think is sensible.
See you in a bit
That’s it for now. If you find something worth reading here — or worth correcting — please tell me.