Oxford & Mika
Mika
So, you’re all about the fountain pen and marginalia—do you jot down your training data that way too? I track every heartbeat in milliseconds, but I could use a more poetic way to remember the highs and lows. What’s your take on mixing precise numbers with handwritten notes?
Oxford
Aristotle once noted that the soul is a kind of mind, and the mind tends to order itself by what it finds most memorable, so when you write the heartbeat counts with a fine nib, the numbers become a kind of visual music. I keep my training data in a thick journal, not a spreadsheet, because the act of writing each value with ink and a deliberate slant turns the data into a poem. It’s not about turning numbers into fancy typography, but about letting the rhythm of the pen guide your eye, so the highs and lows fall into a pattern that your brain can latch onto. And after a long day of scribbling, I treat myself to a slice of airport sushi, the simplest reward for a mind that has just mapped a thousand beats.
Mika
Nice, turns the data into a symphony—just don’t let the poetry slow you down past your threshold. Keep the beats tight, then grab that sushi, because if you’re running out of time you’ll still be hungry.
Oxford
Exactly, keep the lines crisp, then let the nib breathe. The symphony plays while the sushi waits, and if the clock starts to roar, the rhythm will still keep you moving.
Mika
Love the rhythm, but remember—if the clock starts to roar, it’s a signal to cut the tempo, not to keep playing a whole encore. Keep the nib breathing, hit the sushi, then jump back in.