If the crowd doesn’t like (approve) - most likely, everything is done correctly. There is only one criterion of quality - sincerity. That’s it.

I’m on my way to this, but I can’t yet throw off my dependence on approval and come to crystal sincerity. We are social creatures, which means we depend on the opinions of other people. Conformism is encouraged in systems.

At first glance, it may seem that it is easier for an introvert to run away and hide from the world - “I’m right, and you’re all assholes!”, “Nobody understands my genius!” And indeed, you need to avoid the crowd so as not to lose yourself. But you definitely can’t hide from one person. I talk to myself for hours every day – in text, in my head, and even out loud. The arguments there are more intense than those in your get-togethers with colleagues at planning meetings, with friends in cafes, or cute purrs in the comments. I have nothing to fear – there is blood and flesh, joy and pain, a black abyss and blinding light. Most people avoid all of this in themselves, keeping it on the farthest shelf, never approaching or opening it. But it’s all here. It’s all already in me. This is me!

A constantly open daily note on my phone, so that I can catch the flow. If I sit down to write on purpose, I’ll end up with a plastic piece of crap that can collect a lot of likes, but will kill me as a person, a human being, a creature.

So likes aren’t important? It’s a paradox, but they are important. A like is one form of showing love¹. This is a good person and I want to express my love to them. It’s nice to receive this because it required an internal dialogue and awareness on the other side. So, there is a similar person there.

I know people who never like. I know people who like everything. I know the mechanisms of both.

In the meantime, all I can do is try to push people away, because attracting people who don’t resonate with your personality will always lead to negative friction. I call it Anti-Marketing.

P.s. This topic is very interesting to me and I will definitely continue to think about it and share it with you. In the era of marketing, we have forgotten about sincerity. In the era of likes, we have stopped valuing feelings.

Instead of a like, write to me and tell me what you think.

Recently, I came across a family of swans in a park not far from my home. I had gone out to take photos of nature, but ended up staying near these beautiful creatures for about twenty minutes. People were taking pictures, someone was explaining something about the swans to their child, and I was taking shot after shot, enjoying the moment and feeling a connection with something real and beautiful.

By the way, did you know that swans grunt? Perhaps it’s because they feel threatened (“I’m in charge here!”), or maybe they’re asking for food and attention from passersby, or even showing gratitude. Let me know in the comments if you have any ideas.

The other day I voiced my short film “Sunset (I know it will happen again) ”. It was very important to me that the voice sounded natural. I did several takes¹ - where I feel relaxed, there are always rough edges and mistakes - here you can’t hear a letter, there the accent is wrong. It seems simple - try and everything will be great, but then the soul is lost and I hear artificiality. There are projects where this is not so important, but here it was extremely important, and I am my own strictest director.

This makes you think about the fact that the present is imperfect. Expressing yourself honestly may lead to dissatisfaction with the result, since it is human nature to make mistakes.

I made a short film based on my poem. This work is very important to me because I aimed to convey as accurately as possible the feelings I experienced this year. Made with love.

Since ancient times, people have tried to illuminate their lives as much as possible, because darkness is frightening and arouses exploratory and conquering interest. But today this leads to light pollution ¹ of cities. And if we understand light not literally, then it is the desire to “illuminate” as much as possible around us - more information, more “useful” surfaces and screens, more contacts with people per unit of time. Sounds good, but it has a terrible effect on us every day - defocus, laziness and loss of interest, because there is so much around us right now.

You need to be able to turn off everything for yourself, and then gradually return only what is truly significant. Here is your true interest right now and nothing else exists at all - the candle flame. At this moment, the surrounding emptiness creates space for perception of the most important thing. After a while, when your eyes get used to it, you begin to distinguish the details of the space, you will see more context, more colors. The space will acquire more meaning, because it surrounds the object of your interest now.

For example, you are sitting opposite another person. You are calmly communicating. Pay attention only to this moment. Turn off and remove your smartphone from the table. Instead of a noisy and crowded cafe, sit on a bench in the evening park or in the kitchen with a cup of tea. The person opposite you is a candle flame - only its light is important now, only it illuminates the space.

This can be applied to the project you are working on, to information, to rest. It is not for nothing that people prefer a paper book instead of a digital one - nothing should distract attention, including the medium.

Only the candle flame reflected in your pupils.

Photography is an opportunity to capture a moment as I see it. A reflection of the external. I am only an observer.

Poetry is an opportunity to capture thoughts and feelings so that they do not scatter across a sheet of paper. A reflection of the internal. Again, I am only an observer.

There is one goal. My guiding star.

I took a walk and photographed a beautiful autumn sunset at the Chizhovskoye Reservoir in Minsk.

Sorrows like black birds circle above us. You can’t accept it, but something has changed right now. You revel in the beauty of flight. The grandeur and silent revolution of this moment are mesmerizing.

I drew a poster based on the poem .

I remember the good times of LiveJournal and autonomous blogs¹. I met people without saying “hello” to them. I read their thoughts, encountered oddities and stupidities that gradually revealed the author’s personality. They were my friends!

Then came marketing. Marketers taught how to write better - this was the beginning of the end. Blogs became like plastic “Barbie houses”. There is no need to be afraid that artificial intelligence will replace writers, because the writer has already been replaced by a marketer.

Instead of creating a place to express (or find) themselves, authors turn their blog into a glamour magazine, “business media”, or a verified dry document. They try to find a better voice and correct mistakes, but in the end they lose both their voice and the opportunity to make mistakes (because we must make mistakes in order to grow).

Notes are not a work of art - they are ore.

Yes, you need to learn to write well — good text helps to structure thoughts. But the “editor-in-chief”² cutting up the text in pursuit of points is extreme. Read the “editorial”³ texts — dry, documentary, with an artificial note of soul.

I was surprised to notice that I find it interesting to reread the drafts of my notes (notes that I did not publish for some reason). This is ore — black, dirty, but with value inside. Or without value, but this remains to be seen. There are real emotions there, because they are still very fresh; thoughts that lead to a dead end or to the top of the mountain.

“Ore” is needed for production. News, thoughts, links. For example, I’m working on a podcast right now and have to process a lot of that ore. Of course, you can rebroadcast it as is, but then I won’t be in it. I want to be a source, not a channel - that’s very important!

To have the courage to publish a draft as soon as possible, you need to work with the garage door open.

Here’s what Andy Matuschak⁴ writes about public work:

There’s a scientific glassblowing studio north of us; I walk past it on the sidewalk often. By simply existing, and having a nice sign that faces the street, they are doing a small public service every day. We are here, working.

In the same light industrial complex as the Murray Street Media Lab, there’s a woodworking shop, and the man who runs it always keeps his door propped open. Simple as that. What a delight, every damn day, to ride my bike past that door and peek inside and see all his tools, the boards stacked up for whatever commission he’s undertaking. I am here, working.

For me, Andy’s evergreen notes is a great example of public service.

I don’t know where my thoughts will take me. I just create a new text file in Obsidian and start writing - whole thoughts or fragments, links and feelings can go in there. Tomorrow, I or someone else will find a gem in this ore. Or not.

The trees are shedding their clothes, the streets have become quieter. Autumn has knocked on the doors of homes and hearts. It is already standing on the threshold.