Today is my birthday. And I decided to start it slow: watching the sunrise with a cup of coffee, a book, and a deck of cards in my hands. I can’t pinpoint exactly what I am feeling now. Turning 42 is not a dramatic shift from 41, so I should not feel anything different, but I do.

This past week, I had the privilege of attending an invitation-only class given by Beau Lotto. I love when I get to sit in the student’s chair again and just take in new information. Wonder and uncertainty were the main topics of our time together.

It has already started. It's that time of year when emails about private events for the holiday season begin to pop in. Depending on the year and the projects I have going on, I am not always available for these sorts of engagements.

While doing some research for an ongoing project, I came across a poem by Samuel Taylor Coleridge that, although simple in nature, holds a very deep reflection about the nature of time and how we interact with it.

This is a short note to let the world know my son, a toddler of almost 15 months, has impeccable taste. How is it possible to understand such a thing when your kid can only utter a few vague sounds like words?

As many of you know, my last show, The Hope Theory, chronicled my experience as an immigrant in the United States. My story focused on this experience and its unseen side, which I believe is rarely discussed.