For two years, cohost was my digital home. I've been posting there for almost as long as they would let me, with topics ranging from my music & coding projects to stargazing, Mahjong, social media philosophy, sinkdog, and the joys of mutual vulnerability. I joined in on newfound traditions like CSS crimes, 140-character title posts, and wrong answers to Pictionary prompts. What cohost gave me in return: artists to follow & art to share. Old & new friends to learn more about. A snapshot into the wayward lives of queer furries I would have never met otherwise.

With cohost's shutdown on the horizon, I've been working on this blog a bit more fervently than usual. It now has an RSS feed (actually an "Atom" feed, not that it matters), so you can plug meow.garden into any feed reader and receive new posts alongside any other blogs you follow. Come along for the ride - RSS is cool and retro now!

11 years ago, I built & released my first public webapp: Washboard, an alternate Tumblr interface with built-in keyword filtering. This was long before the mobile app gained this feature, but also well after browser extensions like Tumblr Savior and XKit proved that the userbase wanted more control over their feeds. With no good option for mobile, I said, hey, let's just build an app on the Tumblr API! How hard could it be?

Jekyll has been my preferred static site generator for the last 8 years, starting with my old simfiles page. Static sites are awesome; they require virtually no maintenance and they load as fast as your Internet connection will allow. You'd think that speed would carry over to the development side, but Jekyll somehow manages to spend nearly 30 seconds building this tiny website from a cold start! According to the Internet, there are exactly two reasons why this might happen, and I've apparently discovered an elusive third reason. I want working on this site to be fun, and the long startup time was eating into that, so it was time to finally search for something new.

"On Being Trans and the Importance of Passing" by @ninecoffees has been swirling around my head since I read it earlier this week. It's a brutal interview piece that touches on transphobia, violence, and mental health. The article's central question launched a self-interrogation in my head that took me a long time to find an answer for; I would write something down, and the next morning it would sound to me like it was written by someone else. This post is my attempt to find my own voice — to speak for myself and actually believe what comes out.

Back in June, I wrote "The software I want doesn't exist", lamenting the gap in open-source desktop software revealed by Notion. Well, I'm making it myself, and in doing so I've thought a lot harder about why I find platforms like Notion so frustrating. It goes deeper than UX, interoperability, and any conviction about "local vs. cloud" or similar debates. The problem lies within the very incentive structures that fund software into existence.

I've spent a dizzying portion of my online life trying my hardest to have one name for everything. While I mostly succeeded on my own terms, my preferred name does still vary slightly across different contexts. I wish I wasn't so picky about the details, but since I am, I suppose it would be best to be explicit about it.

I was introduced to Alexander Panos' Nascent earlier this month. Trying to describe a project of this magnitude in a way that captures its essential details without being reductive might be impossible. Here's what I can tell you up-front: no other album has taught me more about music. I think you should listen to it in solitude when you have a moment to spare. The rest of this article is my best effort to pinpoint those essential details.

Today, I released my new song relentless future (feat. EZGi) and simultaneously announced my "album in progress" Light & Matter. There's a lot I want to leave up to interpretation or otherwise unspoken, but equally as much that I want to say about it all. So, here are my thoughts, organized roughly by subject:

Recurring dates have held an almost superstitious position in my life for as long as I can remember. I'll give some examples: for a few of my teenage years, the 2nd day of a quarter (e.g. April 2, October 2, etc.) had a reputation for being emotionally turbulent in some way. A majority of my published simfile packs were released on either January 1 or April 20 (try to contain your laughter); little traditions etched into the calendar. But there's one big recurrence in my life: a comet, invisible to everyone but me, that appears in the night sky every six years. It's a deadline, and it arrives in 10 days.