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 There is no need to be afraid that artificial intelligence will replace writers, because the writer has already been replaced by a marketer.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.

I walked around Minsk in the evening and took some pictures with a camera with a CCD sensor. Minimum 400 ISO. Black and white from 1600 to 3200.

I love listening to music and I am convinced that a good cover hides good content. Not always, but usually so, because the external reflects the internal. If the cover was made with taste and soul, it hides the “tasty” and lively content of the album. In the ocean of information, one cover seems to shout at you “Hello! I’m here! Let’s get acquainted!”, the other quietly and modestly stands aside, waiting for attention.

With this note I open the sections “Cover of the week ” and “Track of the week ”. I will introduce readers to what I like. Not regularly, but now there is a place where I can share something interesting, and you know where to get acquainted with it.

I’ll start with Evvo - Physical L​.​U​.​Vl^{1 2} from the EP of the same name (2016)

I first found this album in 2016. Since then, it has accompanied me in various Spotify playlists and on my first (and last) hi-fi player. Then I left Spotify for another music service. There I collected a discography from scratch, but forgot about this EP. I remembered only in 2024.

I listened to it again. What can I say now? Good! The main track for me, as before, is Physical L​.​U​.​V. Of course, it does not evoke the same emotions, but it leaves a good impression.

But I still think the cover is awesome in 2016 and in 2024 - the colors, the style, the image of intercourse and love. Excellent!

Listen on Apple Music:

The bad weather retreats, taking with it scraps of my thoughts and sorrows. The setting sun illuminates all the depth and beauty of the clouds, which just a minute ago seemed like an impenetrable gray ceiling.

Tomorrow it will rain again.

There used to be so many cool, beautiful phones, but today there are only identical “black mirrors”.

I’m more about innovative design. I’m trying to understand what attracts me to those small phones with buttons and joysticks, whether they are needed today or are they a step back for the sake of nostalgia, and not real convenience. Or maybe a new form is needed, but what kind?

All these beauties have moved to a virtual environment, and the smartphone has become a thin client that is required to interfere as little as possible. Perhaps this is good.

I have already written about “breadcrumbs” on the way , which help us remember who we are and why we ended up here. But I liked another description of captured moments - sparks. Feelings are like sparks. Sparks from the past that “ignite” you today.

If “breadcrumbs” sounds a bit boring and has little connection with the emotionality of the moment, then the word “spark” lights up. In my opinion, the comparison of emotional moments with sparks is very apt.

Here’s what Winnie Lim writes :

I would not be re-reading these posts if not for dayone or timehop, and re-reading them lights up something in me, especially if I am in a period of existential slump, which occurs more often than I would like. Sometimes I forget I can be capable of writing in more dimensions than my usual stream of consciousness. I could reduce the time I spend in existential slumps if I could access these little sparks of my old selves in a more timely and accessible manner.

In another note I compared to flame:

Of course, I don’t think that the reader will immediately shed tears after reading my quote from an article from a year ago. No! First of all, I want to shed tears or laugh myself. This old note becomes part of a new product (note, article, book, podcast, film) and brings a piece of that energy here. This can be compared to a torch that I brought to light a new fire.