For years, I wrote in the margins—of teaching schedules, sobriety anniversaries, album reviews, unfinished songs and half-hearted routines. What would it mean to thread it all together? What would be revealed?

Welcome. I'm so glad you're here.

This isn’t a typical blog or newsletter.

You won’t find hot takes or how-tos here.

There’s no algorithm, no productivity hacks.

Just a mirror for anyone in a season of return. For anyone craving a softer pace. For anyone rebuilding voice, identity, or creative practice from the inside out.

Tracework grew from my own season of unraveling—professionally, emotionally, spiritually. After a long and quiet rebuilding of something like a self, I didn’t want to just write content.

I wanted to trace the creative work I had abandoned—what still pulsed underneath the ash, what still sang—in the context of my life now.

Because for years, I wrote in the margins—of teaching schedules, sobriety anniversaries, album reviews, unfinished songs, and half-hearted routines.

What would it mean to thread it all together? What would be revealed?

So I’ve been gathering those margins, rewriting them, listening for the