This drawing was born out of a photograph my mom sent we from Helsinki back when traveling was a thing. I’ve been trying to find the photo, it really should be in our family chat history – but there’s over nine thousand pictures there, and I have to admit I gave up at some point, so I’ll just use words. It was a picture of a guy on a bench somewhere in

I started this pic back in October. I was home at my mom’s place in Petrozavodsk, a month after grandpa died. I like keys. I rarely really lock things, but there’s something special and magical about keys. I have a liking for them as objects that are almost abstract, sculptural. The key in the bird’s side reminds me of the key to my mother’s piano. It’s an old piano made some time

I am usually not this literal, but yup, this is a Python pic. For the past 54 days, one to fifteen hours of my day each day have been dedicated to studying Python and things connected to Python. It’s not my first programming language. I’ve done some PHP and some JavaScript. And I use PHP in my daily work. But Python is special. It’s a language that feels right. The whole thing

I am back in St. Pete. The first week I got back J. was away in London, and I was suddenly all alone in an all empty apartment. It was the first time I was alone since grandpa’s death. When grandpa died, I stayed in Petrozavodsk with my mom for a bit. And that whole month that I was in Petro, when we were taking care of grandpa, the days he was

It all started with this bottle of wine my friend N. and I shared when I was visiting mom in Petrozavodsk. We don’t meet often, but I’ve known N. since my seventh grade or so. We met at my hiking club that I just joined then, and just as at school but fifty-fold I was the odd one out on a million levels. N. was a few years older, respected in the