The Creative Practice of Paying Attention
Bicycling is freedom at a manageable speed.
Fast enough to go far. Slow enough to notice what’s happening around you. When you ride, you’re not just traveling—you’re paying attention. You see what you’d miss in a car: small turns, changing light, quiet neighborhoods, open fields, the grit of a climb, the relief of a descent.
That’s not just riding. That’s creative practice.
Because creativity begins with noticing. And noticing requires time, presence, and a mind that isn’t rushing past its own life.
My best rides rarely follow perfect plans—and that’s the point. Long-distance touring teaches you to trade control for awareness. The wind shifts. Trails change. You detour. You adapt. And somewhere in that improvisation, the trail becomes the story.
Improvising isn’t a mistake—it’s the creative practice.
Creative people grow the same way. Not in straight lines, but in loops, switchbacks, experiments, and reinventions.
Progress isn’t always obvious in the moment—but it’s happening because you’re moving, adapting, and staying curious.
Straight lines are for rulers. Growth is for adventurers.
You build in cycles, not straight lines:
Ride → recover → adapt → repeat.
Create → step back → revise → share → repeat.

