I don’t always know what I’m doing at first.

But that’s kind of the point.

Don’t let anyone tell you you’re too old to shoot at army men with BB guns.

After continuously and relentlessly honing and refining the skill of thinking, the whole exercise becomes habitual and addictive. It builds confidence that you can dive in, get messy, figure it out, screw it up a few times but eventually – with tenacity and an impatient spirit – get it right. 

Spare hours channel this thinking torrent into other areas – regardless of prior understanding. So I find myself a white guy untangling the mysteries of Indian cuisine. Or woodworking and building things. Picking up photography. Learning piano or mandolin.

Below is a collection of such tangents.

I’m not a professional woodworker, chef or musician … but hey, why not?

I’m not a mechanic. But I took on an engine overhaul.

 
 

I’ve never played Pachinko, but…