October 2025 Update + Why The Ocean Actually Matters

The last few weeks have been chaos.

New flooring throughout the main floor. Dust everywhere. Travel. Work deadlines. Needy dogs.

All of it chipping away at studio time.

So I’m taking the smallest steps possible.

Perfecting custom frames. Testing new techniques. Forward progress, even if it’s measured in minutes.

Because standing still feels worse than moving slowly.

And here’s the thing we do to ourselves.

I’m starting this newsletter.

Adding one more thing to an already full plate.

Classic.

But I think it matters.

Sharing the work. The process. The mess of trying to make art while life happens.

We’ll see if I can actually pull this off.

It means saying no to other things. Things that aren’t family. Things that aren’t art.

I’m hopeful I will.

But honestly?

I’m not sure yet.

This is the part nobody talks about.

The gap between wanting to create and having the space to do it.

Between the vision and the reality of dust-covered floors and five-minute studio sessions.

We’re all just trying to figure it out.

This is a crop of a custom frame style that I’ve been working on. It’s actually been tough to figure out how to get the angles to fit perfectly, but I think I have it figured out thanks to the new frame sled I built. Maybe I’ll talk more about that later!

Sometimes progress looks like simple marks on a piece of paper. 5 minutes and you’re done. These are just wavy marks that I’ll end up using for a collage piece. Maybe this will turn into the central focal point? You never know, but it’s progress and something that I can use in the future. The Japanese call this Gyō. Basically, do small things every day and they’ll add up. I currently have a massive amount of this painted paper just waiting in the wings to be utilized, and I wouldn’t have any of it if I didn’t take these small steps. I would never just stop and spend hours doing something like this. I need it ready to go, and this practice of at least taking 5 minutes a day is critical.

Why the Ocean Actually Matters

We’ve all at least seen photos.

Turquoise water. Perfect sunsets. Dolphins jumping.

Yeah, the ocean is pretty awesome.

But here’s what many people don’t think about.

Every second breath we take comes from the ocean.

Not the rainforest. Not the trees in our backyards. The ocean.

Tiny organisms called phytoplankton produce at least half the oxygen on Earth.

We’re breathing and alive because of microscopic things we’ve never seen.

Ponder that for a second.

The ocean absorbs about 25% of the carbon dioxide we pump into the atmosphere, too.

Without it, climate change would be catastrophically worse.

It’s literally buying us time.

Three billion people rely on the ocean for their primary source of protein.

Not as a nice dinner option down at your local seafood shack. As survival.

When the ocean fails, they starve.

Simple as that.

The ocean regulates Earth’s temperature.

It absorbs heat. Distributes it through currents. Keeps the planet from cooking or freezing.

It’s the world’s thermostat, and that’s pretty damn cool.

And we’re breaking it.

Coral reefs protect coastlines from storms. Mangroves filter pollution. Seagrass meadows store carbon.

Remove one piece, and the whole system suffers.

We don’t get to pick and choose which parts matter either.

We’ve already lost 30-50% of coral reefs. 90% of large fish populations are gone. 14 million tons of plastic enter the ocean every year.

This isn’t some distant future problem.

It’s happening now. While we scroll. While we ignore it.

Because we need it to survive.

Not in some poetic, spiritual way.

Actually survive. Climate stability. Coastal protection. Food. Air.

All of it depends on a healthy ocean.

Look, I’m not pretending to have all the answers.

I’m an artist trying to figure this out too.

But we need to start paying attention.

The ocean isn’t just background scenery for our vacation photos.

It’s the reason we’re alive.

Here’s where I think we might be able to start:

Let’s learn one thing about the ocean this week.

Just one.

A creature. An ecosystem. A problem.

Then tell someone else.

That’s it.

Connection starts with curiosity.

And we need each other to be curious.