Finishing the Creative Process feels like post-clarity… Don’t go there, Pat. Sike, I don’t even joke like that. I’m just saying… the process builds anticipation, and then it’s just done. The ending feels anticlimactic… For example: If you’re a…
In this video, I reflect on what it meant to build PATCHYp while teaching myself how to bring the vision to life. From learning WP and web design to branding, image creation, and book production, each new skill came through patience, trial and error, and long stretches of figuring things out on my own. In many ways, building PATCHYp is a story of my creative growth, persistence, and belief in my vision.
Reading literature is different from just reading to find out what happened. Sometimes you gotta slow down, pay attention to how something is being said, and notice what keeps coming back. Everything might not make sense right away, and that’s cool. This guide gives you a few things to look for so you can get more out of the work.
PATCHYp became more than a childhood nickname. It came to represent the part of myself that could move between different worlds without completely belonging to any of them. The neighborhood, the classroom, the dugout, the professional world, and eventually the creative space. At the core, Patchy is about community and connectedness. Kicking it with all people without losing sight of where I come from. StandPAT is also part of me, but PATCHYp is the version that I'm trying to to lead with.
I’m trying to find my writing rhythm again without forcing it. The old style doesn’t fit anymore, and the new one is still taking shape. Right now, I’m just getting shots up until the touch comes back.
I’ve been building websites for years without ever really knowing what I was doing. A lot of it was trial and error, breaking stuff, starting over, and figuring it out as I went. PATCHYp is the first time all of those lessons, ideas, visuals, and writing really came together the way I wanted.
The process of composing literary work, documented in photos.
This lives somewhere between the lesson and the leap. Where the ground shifts, the room changes, and every decision begins to carry more weight. It’s the moments that make you question what kind of person you are becoming. The cards are on the table, the room is quiet, and the next move requires more than confidence. Growth is not loud. Sometimes it’s a quiet moment when you realize what the table taught you.