She picked at the sticky residue left over from the bandage on her right eyebrow. Shapes floated arrhythmically. Light was exhausting. She popped a Gravol and asked Kit to wake her at the station. An hour later, she woke up cold and alone, a sealed manila envelope in her lap.



I love making things, but:

Working on one or two small projects a year is like going for a run every couple of months. It’s a slog every time. Your body doesn’t adapt, and you can never achieve flow. You can have a fun run, but it’s not going to be a good run.

If you run regularly though, you get stronger — Muscles develop, willpower improves, and you develop a positive routine. You adapt to the process. The prolific runner not only finds it easier to run, but finds it easier to get out and start running.

When you are obsessed with creation, but aren’t prolific, every project holds a great weight. Each project has to be just right, and the presentation of a project can become just as time consuming.

Every day I zero the unread articles in my feed reader. It doesn’t take long, and I love it. It makes me feel a part of a creative community, even if I don’t exist to that community.

I am the wall flower jack-of-all-trades, implementor-of-non.
I am the maker-space dweller who has never set foot inside.
I am the author with the unfinished novel.
I am the serial entrepreneur who never started up.

My ratio of consumption to production is off, yet I have so many undeveloped ideas. These are ideas that don’t go away, and some of the bigger ideas will never gain momentum because smaller ones are in the way. Some are really interesting and some are really immature. It’s a complete log jam in there.

I want to create and output more.

I want to share what I learn.

I want to remove real barriers and barriers I’ve created. I want to travel through the concept-to-completion cycle more often. I want to execute and break up the log jam.

Perhaps by simply outputting more frequently, I can reduce the perceived weight and expectation attached to each thing I make.

Perhaps the sum of these often-random and imperfect parts can form a greater, more interesting whole.

[Process notes: Written in Byword and Mars Edit. 5 major drafts over two weeks. Original draft was twice as long.]



Kife is part blog, part kindling for project output.

Topics of interest include: Running and outdoor adventure, editing and filmmaking, photography, investing, startup culture, creative parenting (dad of 2 young girls), web and mobile app development, fine art, coffee, cooking, writing, making, and life hacking.

Why do some posts change? Some project-based posts will be sub logs. Sub blogs. Sublogs. For example, an attempt to learn a new technique or build something may be continuously updated over a long period of time and I may modify the posted date as this occurs to bring it to the top of the stack.

Definition of kife: The word kife, as used here, refers to the bits of nature that float in a pot of tea that has been prepared on an open fire. These might include pine needles, bark, and other floaties, and are edible, but random and messy. The word may have originated at a summer canoe camp in Algonquin Park, Ontario.

Old history: In the late 90s, Kife.com was a “kitchen sink blog” based in Canada. A few real-world friends were invited to post semi-anonymously, and the site soon became a small, loosely edited community until it fizzled and was disbanded in 2001. It is now reborn late 2014.

This website is powered by WordPress and is based on the theme LESS by Jared Erickson