Das ist eine Überschrift, die Verkauft.

Das ist eine Überschrift, die Verkauft.

It’s interesting, my relationship with pixels.
I realize I had both slowly and quickly parsed my own self into many, many discrete pixels.
But unlike work, where I do it in a mindful, creative, deliberate way, I obfuscated my coherent, authentic self.
The person on the left was photographed on September 15, 2015.
His name is Geoff Teehan. He feels like a distant acquaintance now, but I do remember bits about him. People wouldn’t know this, but he doesn’t look after himself nearly as well as he should—it just sort of crept up on him. Because you know, life gets busy, and there’s always tomorrow, and then maybe tomorrow, again.

• Listenpunkt A
• Listenpunkt B
• Listenpunkt C

He’s athletic, naturally good with just about any ball, racquet or club that falls into his hands. But he doesn’t exercise for health or well being. It comes pretty easy to him, so why make an effort?
He loves to cook, but eats poorly when he’s out, which is often.
He barely sleeps. Resting can be annoying, it makes him think: Is he setting things up for success? Was he good enough in that meeting today? Did he make everyone happy enough? The pixels!
He’s talented, but rarely leverages it near his highest potential. Why should he? He floats through life just fine with a lot of success and external validation just for sticking his toe in the water—albeit sometimes reaching through a foggy haze of wondering, and wanting more. He could be doing so much more.
He doesn’t think much of himself most of the time. Look at his face. Doesn’t he have the saddest eyes in the world? So sad that they make me want to cry right now. How he got there is a very hard story to tell. It has dozens of layers and millions of pixels. He’ll tell it to you one day.