I’ve always loved photography. Not in an all-consuming way, but I’ve always been drawn to being behind a camera, capturing a moment in time. Perfect, without flaws. It’s often led me to endless waiting or getting seriously pissed off because too many people were in the frame.

What’s always fascinated me about photography is symmetry, the clean lines of urban architecture, or a natural landscape that, more often than not, looked quite different in digital form compared to what my eyes saw.

Over the years, I’ve honed my skills a bit through courses, tips, and YouTube videos, reaching a decent enough level to bring home a handful of shots I’m proud of—ones that feel like they capture life itself.

And yet. Yet, I just sold my Sony a7R III after five years. Along with four different lenses and, perhaps, a piece of my passion (?).

In my decluttering process, one key factor is how often I use or engage with something. If I’m not making the most of it, it’s probably unnecessary, and I can let it go.

So why did this happen with photography?

After some reflection, there are a few reasons. First, laziness. It never even crossed my mind to grab my mirrorless camera for a quick walk around the neighborhood, to explore nearby streets and come back with a decent shot, even just of a sunset.

The second reason is definitely tied to my smartphone. My iPhone 15 Pro Max takes ridiculously high-quality photos. And isn’t the secret to a great photo all about what it conveys to the viewer’s eyes?

The third, and maybe final, reason is the weight. Never knowing which lens would be best, I’d end up carrying two, sometimes three, only to finish any outing with a sore back or, at best, a good sweat.

Have I sold off a passion? Does letting go of a camera I loved—and still love—make me less of a photographer? I’m not sure. The fact that anyone, anywhere in the world, has the chance to take a life-changing photo gives me hope. But it also makes me think about how the quality of so many of our passions has dropped, just like the quality of a good photo.

The theme for this month is Renewal. In this late spring, I decided it was time to give PC gaming a chance. With some spare change, I treated myself to the luxury of exploring this fascinating world that encompasses all games after over 15 years, with a machine equipped with a GeForce RTX 5090 that could last for many years.

I decided to renew my thinking about a fundamentally open system, which, with a few tweaks here and there, can easily withstand the test of time and survive at least an entire generation of consoles.

My good intention of renewal, however, has miserably failed. At least for now. Ordered from the NZXT website at the beginning of April, my new gaming computer arrived just over a week ago.

For me, a geek and lover of any technological gadget, it was like Christmas Day, finally happy to be able to say I could try something different in this crazy world of gaming.

And yet, for the entire past week, I’ve only been greeted with BSODs (the dreaded Blue Screen of Deaths of Windows 11). I’ve reformatted the computer multiple times, searching for as many useful solutions as possible, yet nothing seems to work.

The day after tomorrow, the computer will be returned to the sender, from whom I’ve requested a full refund for a machine I no longer trust. Once I receive the refund, I’ll proceed to purchase a machine with similar specs but produced and pre-built by a different brand, in the hope that this perpetual bad luck that haunts us, where everything has to be difficult and complicated, will finally leave us alone.

More often than less, I've been feeling like Ashley lately.
Although I know I have something to stay, still:

So I’m writing this post—not as a declaration that I’m going to blog every day (I probably won’t), or that I have a new master plan (I don’t). I’m writing it as a gentle reentry. A reminder to myself that taking up space, even imperfectly, is still worth doing.

And if you’re reading this and nodding along, just know: you’re not alone. You don’t have to write every day. You don’t have to have the hottest take. You don’t have to prove anything. You just have to be real. That’s enough.

I’m starting here. And if you’re trying to find your way back to something too, I hope you’ll start with me.

🔗

At work, things are starting to speed up.

I’ve had very little time to dedicate to my blog and to reading my beloved RSS feeds, and I’ve spent all my free time playing video games.

This past weekend, however, Noemi decided to commit to finding a second-hand bike. We have many cycling paths that go from Marina del Rey north to Santa Monica and south much farther, all the way to Redondo Beach.
On Sunday, we found one for around $80, and while the frame was in excellent condition, the bike needed a major tune-up.

The man who sold it to us is Ukrainian and has lived in the area for 45 years. He suggested we go to a Community Bike Center for help. Not knowing exactly what that was, I asked him a few questions, and he pointed me to this fantastic place: Bikerowave.

Bikerowave is a volunteer-run, DIY bike shop collective located in Mar Vista, serving L.A.’s cycling community. They provide space, tools, and equipment to effectively teach people how to build, repair, and maintain their bicycles. They are a not-for-profit, all-volunteer, member-run organization. Their goal is to empower cyclists with the basic knowledge to maintain their ride and help them connect more easily with the cycling community.

On Monday evening, we went there, and with Boe’s help, I learned a lot about how a bike is built, where to make adjustments, and how to fix it myself without needing a shop next time.

I’m not sure if there’s anything like this in Italy, but in the two hours we spent there, we understood—if it wasn’t already clear enough—how possible it is to bring objects back to life that others consider outdated. And through the power of community, great things can be built.

Even for someone over 40 like me.

Manton has point:

To be a blogger, you have to be okay with writing into the void. Some posts will resonate with people. Some posts will get comments. Most won’t.

Sometimes I’ll write a post and I’ll think to myself, “This is pretty good! This is the blog post that people are gonna talk about and link to. I’ve really captured something unique in this post.”

And then crickets. No one cares. 🦗

That’s okay. The act of writing itself helps us think, helps us learn, helps us discover how we feel about a topic. It’s creative and has value even if no one is reading. It’s a snapshot in time to look back on later.

And then the post is out there on the internet, making the web a little better. And maybe one day someone will pick it up and see it, at just the right time, and it will matter to them.

When I opened my first blog in 2007, I did it to share a trip I had taken to Canada. Back then, almost no one was doing travel blogging. Later, I started following a trend, writing on the blog to make myself known, initiate conversations with brands, and write about products and experiences. For many months, I forgot what writing truly meant to me.

Reworking long-dormant thoughts that need to escape my mind and take shape through written text is my way of deciphering the world and the things that fascinate me. It’s a means of leaving an indelible mark on my inner self, even before hoping it might interest someone out there.

And even if it doesn’t, that’s okay too. I’ve shared something about myself with the world, and being able to do so is already an achievement.

🔗

Nintendo has officially announced the Nintendo Switch 2, slated for release on June 5, 2025, with a suggested retail price of $449.99 in the United States. ​

Key Features and Specifications:

• Display: The Switch 2 boasts a larger 7.9-inch LCD screen with a 1080p resolution, supporting up to 120 frames per second (fps) and High Dynamic Range (HDR). ​
• Docked Mode: When connected to a TV via the redesigned dock, the console supports up to 4K resolution at 60fps. ​
• GameChat: A new communication feature accessible via the C button on the right Joy-Con 2 allows for voice and video chat with friends during gameplay. The built-in microphone is designed to filter out ambient noise for clear communication.

I've never been a big Nintendo fan, though I have immense respect for what the company has done—and continues to do—to change the world of video games. However, if this is the premise, it still holds true that Nintendo struggles to get two successful consoles in a row.

Setting aside the price of the console itself, I believe the cost of individual games—both digital and physical—is really high, and it will no doubt become the new standard going forward... What worries me most, though, is the new cartridge system, which reminds me far too much of what Microsoft tried to do at the launch of the Xbox One—and we all know how that ended.

Then there’s the online functionality, which is still lagging far behind current market standards, only reinforcing the idea that Nintendo still isn’t comfortable managing a proper multiplayer experience on its consoles. Not all the old games will work and for some of them you need to pay a little extra to get a graphics upgrade...

The decision to use the Welcome Tour tech demo to introduce the new console—and to make it a paid experience—feels like another misstep, especially when compared to how well Sony handled Astro Bot’s launch with the PlayStation 5.

Finally, the preorder system based on unfair rules (You can purchase a Switch 2 directly from Nintendo, but only if you have at least 50 hours of gameplay on the original console) makes me think I’ll soon end up buying a gaming PC instead of following these absurd access conditions.

🔗

So true Brandon, so true. Now video games are my thing.

I remember when surfing the web or escaping into cyberspace was a break from real life. It was a place where I could go to relax and escape the worries of my regular life. Now, it seems every time I log on, I find something new to stress about, something else to be pissed off about, and I just don’t know how much more of this I can take. I guess things have come full circle, now I go offline to escape real life and relax, as the internet has truly become the place where I hate to be.

🔗

I am sorry if I am about to ruin your finale.

But where do those two think they’re going?
Their freedom is only in their heads.
It can’t exist outside that place, outside someone else’s control.
Ending the second season like that floored me.

How do you wait another year?


Severance Season 2 has been bittersweet, slow, incomprehensible for long stretches. I’d call it a transitional season, like the last one of The Bear.
Waiting for better times.

This one. I bought it (context for those of you that missed it).

I hate being late. I hate when people are late. I find it a profound form of disrespect.

I get really annoyed when I’m standing at the doorstep, ready to leave, and my wife, for whatever reason, delays our departure. Or when we’re given a specific meeting time and discover that the person we’re waiting for—even just for a cocktail and dinner—is half an hour late and only bothers to let us know a few minutes before the agreed time.

This past weekend, both things happened. We were the last to arrive at a birthday party on Saturday, and yesterday some friends of ours were 30 minutes late.

I wondered where all this irritation came from, especially since, on both occasions, no one seemed to pay much attention to us or make a big deal out of it.

The best answer I came up with is that it’s naturally a cultural thing. Milan and its working life are chaotic, fast-paced, always with every second accounted for. Los Angeles, if anything, is the complete opposite. Although the two cities share traffic, life here is much more relaxed—it’s almost normal to have some accumulated delay in appointments or social gatherings.

Now that I think about it, every time we’ve gone out—unless it was for a show where we had to be there at a specific time—we’ve always been the first to arrive with friends and acquaintances, and more often than not, they’ve been the ones running late.

I probably need to work on myself a bit more and stop getting annoyed about this, since it doesn’t seem like such a big deal to others.