Auditioning for life in pictures

Fewer things excite me more than building things.

Today I’m sitting in a coffee shop (surprise, surprise), I have my beloved overpriced Bose QC25’s cancelling out the loud music and white noise. I’m trying to smash out a lo-fi mock up for a client by midday. Today I’m constantly thinking of ideas, seeing potential in everything.

I’m also having one of those days where the fewer interactions with people the better. It’s the glorious experience that one of my friend’s has labelled “lone wolf mode” – a brief sabbatical from human interaction whilst still being surround by them, leaving me alone to think and make things.

When the waitress brought over my flat white, I returned to the world for a brief moment to say thank you and took the opportunity to look away from my screen for a quick people watch. What I saw came as no shock.

The main focus of my fellow humans was not the person sitting at the table opposite them, the individual deemed important enough that they carved out time in their lives to see. No, they’re on their phones, capturing beautiful snaps of their coffee from a flawless vertical angle.

They are sharing a carefully maintained and perfectly curated projection of their life to the world…through a filter.

I am both intrigued and horrified by this at the same time.

They are skipping an opportunity to connect with another person and instead striving to ensure that their other life, the one watched in pictures by strangers and voyeurs, their own personal audience, is perfect.

They are developing a character, an individual created for their audience to see, enjoy and envy. They are auditioning for that same role every single day.

Perhaps Macbeth had it right, “Life’s but a walking shadow, a poor player, that struts and frets his hour upon the stage”

UFC 193: The brilliant dance

Jake Matthews

A crazy road with nine weeks of anticipation. At last it was there. UFC 193. Etihad Stadium, 56,218 people. A UFC record (sorry Canada).

Yesterday I experienced something of unlikely beauty in the twisted, alluring and violent game of MMA. It’s a difficult task to describe the brilliant dance that takes place when two humans step into the cage, set their fears aside and commit their bodies to battle, voulntarily placing themselves at the intersection of greatness and violence.

There is no guarantee of win or grandeur – just the chance to add the mark of victory to their own story.

Sitting first row, barely ten feet away, I witnessed the rich tapestry of footwork, head movement, every set up and level change, every clinch. The exact moment that a human being is battling their natural instinct with logic and implementing the perfect game plan. Also the carnage. It’s indescribable, like watching pieces of puzzle fall perfectly into place.

For over seven hours I watched men and women exit the cage, some left battered and bruised, others with their head held high. Their victory is one of primitive destruction and their minds briefly abducted into absolute triumph before gravity drives them back to down to earth.

Knowing that these prize fighters have physically diminished their bodies for a day, a week or perhaps a lifetime is a heavy cross to bare when it happens right before your eyes. Voluntarilty watching a body fall limp to the canvas after a brutal head kick or a witnessing a fleeting moment of unconsciousness after a perfectly executed rear naked choke – it’s an emotional quandry, not something to be taken lightly but something that demands respect.

It’s almost impossible not to become captivated by the experience, even more impossible to explain it to those who don’t understand it. To them it’s an exhibtion of violence, not art. And thankfully, they don’t control the narrative.

My first chapter in MMA has finally been completed, I wait in eager anticipation for the next.

Rdio and the wired brain

Small columns sit on street corners in Nashville, playing country standards to the downtown foot traffic. They carry the writing, ‘Music is the true barometer of a person’s soul’.

I’m at Hub Melbourne sitting opposite the divine Sam Bell. A mate of nearly four years, after picking up a takeaway coffee from Kinfolk we have settled back into the peaceful dance of dry humour and producing work, driven by experiences that delight the world.

It’s an interesting dynamic sitting opposite someone and exchanging few words, it’s an easy silence. It yields a unique insight into a person’s mental model, especially when layered with Rdio activity.

Sam is listening to Sebastien Tellier. An electric emotional synthesised roller coaster. A subdued style of music to compliment her work style and decaf coffee.

I’m contradicting her with a long black, finding restlessness in Rick Rubin’s stripped back production of Jennifer Nettles’ new album. This tension is mirrored in my leg shakes and clicking fingers.

It’s the magic of multiple layers of data forming it’s own temporary stream. The inputs come from insights captured by the internet and the brain’s wiring, a unique shared DNA that will expire when the moment ends. Brilliant.

Advancing position


Until a few months months ago I had been juggling (rather unsuccessfully) multiple projects at the same time before committing my time and focus to That was an easy decision.

Every day we find things in life that aren’t that simple, that’s pretty much a given. But some things are. When I want caffeine, I walk to Kettle Black. When I want to hear music, I launch Rdio. When I want a hug, I call my Dad.

Other things are not. We give ourselves challenges, throw down gauntlets and put ourselves in situations that are we are not always going to win. That is fine. It’s the awesomeness of life, setting goals, conquering them and sometimes even exceeding them.

It’s often the question of when is the challenge too great and when do I give up? I really don’t know, but I’ve been thinking about it a lot lately.

Three years ago while scanning the old television box at an ungodly hour of the morning, I landed on an MMA match. Once I got past the cage, the men sporting trunks that could only be compared to a Nascar truck of sponsors, hideous tribal tattoos and the ring girls, the stupid ring girls. Yes, once I got past those little things I found the rules and judging decision to be quite interesting.

When two fighters are on the mat grappling, the individual with top position control (Fighter A) is usually considered dominant. The person in bottom position (Fighter B) can be defending from their back, striking, controlling the posture of their opponent, looking for a submission, transitioning into an escape, but to the judges Fighter A who is on top is seen to be winning the fight. 

But he can’t just sit there passively resting. There is a catch. Unless Fighter A is trying to advance to a more dominant position, they will be put back onto their feet and lose the advantage.

This makes a lot of sense. If I’m not advancing what I want to do, if I’m not taking steps to achieve a goal, if it’s not in my GTD pile then maybe it’s time to put it on ice, reset and move on to the next. 

This does not mean give up, it means that if you’re being passive about an action, maybe it’s time to put it away for a while and move on the next, the one that you are advancing, and maybe we’ll get shit done and win the fight.

Shotgun rider

LunchbasicversionDefinition: ride in the passenger seat of a vehicle

Right now I am looking around and I see a world of jobs and side hustles. In addition to the assumed 9-5, we’re impressively building new products, funding awesome ideas, training half marathons and learning to code.

We’re doing a lot. We’re driving a lot of our own ideas. It can become exhausting.

Maybe this is more relevant as I take a break from my own projects, leaving me with plenty of time to consider the pursuits of others who are delivering awesome things to the world like Nick’s Privacy Workshop, Sam’s Do Lectures, Mel’s Trampoline Day and Shaun’s Phd.

It’s advantageous for the soul to step back from the wheel for a minute and just be the shotgun rider in the passenger seat, putting your feet up on the dash and being alongside them for the ride.

Don’t worry about cool

Written in 1965, this is a letter from Sol Lewitt to Eva Hesse, via here

Just stop thinking, worrying, looking over your shoulder wondering, doubting, fearing, hurting, hoping for some easy way out, struggling, grasping,…Stop it and just DO!…

Don’t worry about cool, make your own uncool. Make your own, your own world. If you fear, make it work for you – draw & paint your fear and anxiety…You must practice being stupid, dumb, unthinking, empty. Then you will be able to DO!…

Try to do some BAD work – the worst you can think of and see what happens but mainly relax and let everything go to hell – you are not responsible for the world – you are only responsible for your work – so DO IT. And don’t think that your work has to conform to any preconceived form, idea or flavor. It can be anything you want it to be…

I know that you (or anyone) can only work so much and the rest of the time you are left with your thoughts. But when you work or before you work you have to empty you [sic] mind and concentrate on what you are doing. After you do something it is done and that’s that. After a while you can see some are better than others but also you can see what direction you are going. I’m sure you know all that. You also must know that you don’t have to justify your work – not even to yourself.

Music on the edge


Summertime in Brooklyn, mustard on your lip. I knew I loved you by the bottom of the fifth.

There is that moment of impact when a song starts playing, you hear a few chords, the downbeat drops in and your mind naturally travels somewhere else.

All cognitive friction is gone. You feel a rush go through your body and for a brief moment everything is tranquil. Your mind is absolutely focused on it’s subtle chord progressions and rich tapestry of words that have now formed a detailed picture.

For three minutes you share that composite character’s experience.

I’m sitting in East Nashville right now, my head is with David Nail in Brooklyn at a Cyclones game, sharing his perfectly detailed heart break. His life is becoming a blur, it’s the end of summer and mascara is running down his lover’s eyes as she ends their relationship.

Isn’t music bloody awesome?

This post was written on October 18, 2013 at Barista Parlor

Drawing from railroads and Kerouac in Nashville

I have been exploring Nashville for just under three months now, lending my own moments to the narrative of the city.

It is a beautiful place, impossible to capture on a single list: micro-breweries, music venues, parks, coffee, custom denim, exquisite BBQ and musicians on Broadway that could be easily mistaken for vagabonds.

The spaces I am drawn to are mostly open, splashed with remnants of 1950s Americana, industrial design and caffeine. They are throwbacks to images described in a Kerouac novel, carved out with their unique individual look and feel.

imogene willie

imogene willie is a converted petrol station doused with antique motorcycles and a weathered leather couch. The designs speak to rustic Americana, constructed and handmade in-house, each pair custom made to fit the individual human figure.

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Barista Parlor

Barista Parlor is a warehouse space that has been gutted. The roll up doors still operate in the summer, the concrete floor has been sanded (the cracks still apparent) and the the walls covered with worn American flags and mounted deer heads. With long wooden planks acting as tables, Barista Parolor was not built for customers to sit en masse over a Sunday brunch. They also adhere to the conventions of Williamsburg coffee, more commonly known as  known as the 6oz Stumptown flat white.


Michael Burcham”s Office

Michael Burcham“s office at the EC is covered in industrial design. While he is a figure that represents the “new” Nashville in the business world, his desk is customised and sourced from rail road iron and timber, a subtle salute to an industry that helped build the South.

Committing to the curve

When I decided to pack everything into a suitcase and head to Nashville for a few months, I took an educated risk. I thought it would be an experience that I would walk away from with some life lessons learned.

I didn’t expect to fall in love with the city or the lifestyle of building ideas. Within the first week, I felt like I had arrived.

The reality of life outside a large corporation is confronting on a few levels. There is never a guaranteed paycheck. You have moments of bringing in large sums of money and moments where you experiment, iterate and fail hard (and often). This requires a serious adjustment to your mental model and no choice but to grow thick skin very quickly.

When you commit to embracing a curve in your career, you also commit to the unwavering instinct that everything will fall into place because the common thread seems to be that innovation and outcomes are spurred when one’s back is against the wall.

When I return to Melbourne next week I’ll be heading back to family, friends, amazing coffee and the city I call home. Logic would have me settle there for a while. Fortunately I left logic at the gate when I boarded the flight back in July.

I am in a unique position where I have nothing but time on my hands, so committing to a bootstrapped life isn’t crazy. I am most tranquil when I am delivering a meaningful piece of work and drinking coffee. The good news is that this feeling is not tied to any location. It just requires the attack pack, Macbook Air and Lucchese boots.

Committing to the curve is a scary prospect, but it yields a payoff that I’m not sure can be found in Melbourne right now.

Looking laterally for mentors


At Deloitte I was lucky to have mentors to impart wisdom and insight to guide me through the first few years of my career. I naturally looked upwardly to those with more experience and success. There was huge value in this tacit knowledge, but I quickly learned that I was seeking direction for a walk of life that might not exist yet.

I wrote back in 2011, ‘greater wisdom leads us to people who we can learn from and teach’. After keeping my eyes open I realised that my mentors are actually my friends and peers.

Identifying the person that you admire is easy. Finding the characteristic of someone willing to share is harder – someone who will create the space for you to find answers while asking the right questions.

Remember to look laterally for these people. The fluid knowledge of your peers can always be applied to your lateral experience.  Don’t be limited by looking upwardly at the success of someone else as a static blueprint of experience to follow. The world is constantly advancing, their experience is frozen in a time and place while your life is happening now.

Edit: From @rexster: “We seek not the answers but to understand the questions” – Kwai Change Caine

Thanks to Sarah for reading the draft at The Little Mule

Making it all work

Never understate the impact of minor adjustments to your life – they have the remarkable capacity to change you.

While in Nashville I have re-discovered that stress is really awesome when it’s in balance, and really bad when it is not.

I borrowed a copy of David Allen‘s ‘Making It All Work‘ to reacquaint myself with the GTD framework. I have once again found that his models work really well and I’m using a mashup of them to get shit done.

My best advice is to choose the pieces that suit you and use them in the context of the larger model. Don’t read it as a textbook that you need to complete every part at once. 

You will learn to identify the horizon you are feeling unsure about: Is it remember to buy tickets for a gig tonight, or that you want to change jobs, or that you want to get in touch with your purpose of life in the universe? Each has subtly different ways to solve and each is important when you are trying to achieve balance in life.

While written a while ago, the tools are 20% tech/paper and 80% mind, applying to filing cabinets and iPhones at the same time.

Follow the neon


Since arriving in Tennessee I have discovered three things: Yazoo Pale Ale is awesome, no map is needed because the downtown area is a grid, wear TOMs and they won”t know you are a tourist.

I arrived at BNA airport late last night and after 22 hours in transit I was ready to crash like a rock. I thankfully followed my jet lag tradition: find the coffee and explore.  I dropped my gear off and set out to explore downtown.

I”ll be honest, I wandered no further than 300m to Printer”s Alley, but I found beer and a damn good meal (as well as the 20% tip convention). I later crashed at 10:30 and woke up at 7.

It was better to follow the neon to the people than to crash in the room and fall victim to the jet lag.

Packing for range and agility: the attack pack and the mothership

I have enjoyed decluttering over the winter. Now that I am heading overseas for a while, I want to travel smarter and a little lighter. The idea of the attack pack and mothership was then sketched out.


The approach: the attack pack and the mothership, ensuring maximum range and agility.

The mothership is the Rimowa Salsa Air. I picked this up in New York last year. At 2.9 kgs it’s super light and a multi wheel, making it awesome for airports and longer travels on foot. It has maximum range, acting as a hub for my belongings on the long haul of the trip. I won’t be packing my entire wardrobe, but I am no digital nomad so a suitcase is necessary. In Nashville and San Francisco it will be great to have access to some fancier threads and when I’m on the move it can be stored in a train station locker or with a friend.

The attack pack is the Crumpler Tondo Outpost, 25 litres with maximum agility. The pack is small enough to carry my day to day working gear: laptop, camera and notebook and expands enough to last me on shorter trips with the essential stuff like clothes, travel items and The Alpine Review.

I will continue to refine as I get ready to fly out Sunday, so if you have any thoughts please share them with me now.

I’m heading to Nashville


In the past three years I have:

  • Graduated with First Class Honours with a thesis on country music and disruptive technologies
  • Played in the tech space with Deloitte Digital
  • Funded 16 projects with the Melbourne chapter of the Awesome Foundation
  • Explored the edges of health with Centre for the Edge and my mentor Pete Williams
  • Visited Seattle, NYC, Texas, Calgary and Japan

After spending three chilled weeks in Melbourne drinking coffee, coworking and embracing ambiguity, I started to think about what is next.

I have decided to take some time to explore my own edges, this will begin with five weeks in Nashville. With only a few fixed plans, I’m heading to Music City to spend some time in a community driven by pragmatic innovation and solving wicked problems that bring value to the world. It also happens to be the home of country music (double win!). I’ll be catching up with Marcus, hitting the road with Blake and hanging with some of the sharpest minds in the South East tech scene at the newly built Entrepreneur Centre.

If you have any tips, or will be in the South, hit me up. I’m excited to board the public jet and see where the journey takes me. Feeling like one very lucky kid right now.


I recently stalked Steve Hopkins‘ Twitter profile, part of it reads “Decluttering, because you make what you are.”

Inspired, I set out this winter to declutter, hoping that it would allow me to cultivate a fresh mindset.

After I mediated on the concept of decluttering, I concluded that each option adds complexity to my daily process. The challenge became to get rid of the parts that weren’t essential.

A year ago I stripped my room back to a bed, a Bose Wave Radio and a side table. Last week I added a small desk that I keep clear and a 27” Apple Cinema Screen.

This environment is designed for a specific outcome: a place to sleep, listen to music and pump out wireframes.

My weekly items have been limited to a Montane Entrant Atomic DT Waterproof Jacket, two pairs of Dr Denim jeans, a pair of Vivobarefoot Neo’s, three lamb’s wool jumpers from Incu and four black and white t-shirts from James Perse.

The winter splurge was a Deadwood River’s Edge jacket, handmade from vintage leather and 80’s Levi’s denim. This worked for me when I found out the jacket required only 5kg of C02 emissions, compared to the average 200kg for a leather jacket. As the former owner of three leather jackets, this was an education.

I’ve designed my style to reflect my attachment to simplicity. The benefit is feeling comfortable and equipped for any situation. Some people have called my style hipster, I call it not having to think.

I haven’t nailed it yet, but decluttering has encouraged me to seek a lifestyle free from complexity, designed for context and optimised for outcomes.

Thanks Steve.