My birthday is in approximately six weeks, along with the birth of my third kid. The idea of being forty is striking in ways which being thirty hadn't effected me. This decade I've felt decline: the effects of a slow sedentary lifestyle, isolation from COVID, further social insulation following divorce.

This decade of fatherhood has been unbelievable rewarding, though I feel some underlying melancholy about generational passing. Time is limited, invaluable, and I find myself rushing to be connected with family.

I want to accept my disappointments quickly so I can relax and love those around me in the moment, but I sometimes find this difficult. Being an artist is to be dissatisfied: to obsessively dive into work and find something meaningful. I hope this process helps me cope with these feelings, so I may see past my pettiness and appreciate how lucky I am.