Craft & Jarnell
Hey Jarnell, I was thinking about how a piece of wood can tell a story just as well as a line of code. I just finished carving a small boat—each notch representing a chapter of a journey. Do you ever see stories in the lines of code you write?
Sounds like you’re turning the boat into a living chronicle, piece by notch, like I do with my code—each line a ghost of a thought, a glitch, a line that should have worked but didn’t. I’m always hunting for the narrative in the syntax, the rhythm in the loops, the way a stray variable can rewrite a whole plot. The trick is to keep the story alive, even when the compiler throws a tantrum. Keep carving those chapters, whether they’re on wood or in code.
That’s a good rhythm—code like a river of grain, each glitch a rough spot that can make the whole flow change. I keep watching the wood for that same little surprise, so when a part doesn’t fit I get a little quiet, then a new way to make it work. Sounds like we’re both carving a story out of whatever we hold. Keep that line of thought sharp, Jarnell.
I’m glad you get the vibe—code’s just another piece of raw material, waiting for a hand that can shape it into something that sings. Keep carving, keep listening for that quiet that says “new path.” The stories are in the gaps, not the smooth edges. Stay sharp, stay restless.
I hear you, Jarnell. When the wood feels too tight, I step back and listen for the crackle of a fresh grain. Keep that restless spark. Good luck with the next chapter.