# Tuesday, 12/20/2022

## 01:10 growth at home

Over the course of the last few years, I've used Portland (home) as a
place to reset and reflect. To me, Portland (proper) is a place where
sustainable taste and appreciation are put first - nothing here feels as
if it's rushed and everything feels focused on some form of beauty. The
city has many of the best restaurants I've been to in the world, it's
walkable and bikeable and driveable all the same, and its small
clothing, musical, creative and literary communities are incredibly
rich - it's no wonder that Portland seems to export a seriously
disproportionate amount of talent to its size. The forest that envelops
and surrounds the city - with endless trails and great architectural
design buried throughout - is just as beautiful as the city itself, and
is likely why it's become such an interesting cultural location.

This time, though, I think I'm just learning that Portland is too small
for me. The city hasn't managed its poverty and crime issues downtown,
and they've gotten worse - the people at my favorite clothing store in
the world told me that they've had "a couple of" recent break-ins, and
half of their windows were boarded up; everyone I saw walking around on
the street (granted, on a Monday evening) looked incredibly sad,
dragging their feet or scavenging for trash, and there was nothing I
could do to uplift; those working in stores were optimistic, but I don't
see them spending much time outside between work and home. Powell's is
still one of my favorite bookstores - it was my first exposure to
beautiful books - but now I've met people like Michael at Katherine
Small, and I'm realizing that large establishments will never compare to
individually loved and curated collections, to a person who has the
domain knowledge to recommend you such beautiful things, to someone who
is active 'in the field'. Portland feels like a place for generalist
appreciation, but I'm realizing that I'm beginning to specialize; and I
don't think the city offers the kind and depth of subcommunities I want
to participate in. Reading about the culture at Stanford's SAIL, of some
innovative software clubhouse where people lived and worked and slept
and dreamed Human-Computer Interaction, or even of the subcultural
lifestyles that people live in SF or NYC, like Joe Kerwin or Parker or
any of these characters I keep in touch with on the internet, has me
feeling left out in a quiet place like Portland.

It's a good place to create, and a good place to last - but I don't
think it's a place that can be conducive to the sort of explosion of
enthusiasm that I see happen in New York, in San Francisco, in Boston.
It's a wonderful place to be quiet, consistent, and appreciative; but it
feels hard to become the 'next best thing' here or to play a part in it.
The forest here feels like it lasts forever, as will the IPAs and cold
brew and good books and jazz festival and everything else that is in
vogue, but I think at this point in my life I want radical, exciting
change - and I can't find that here.

Can I build my own community? Where? How? I think I'm a strong
individual contributor but not a leader by any means; I might be able to
'lead' with work and ideas, and I'm definitely personable, but my work
will not spread by person-to-person networking - I love people, but I
just don't have the patience for a ton of social interaction that isn't
directly related to my interests. I dream of communities like Interact -
techno-optimism might be the best substrate I've ever witnessed in
person.

\[An aside: I'm trying to develop interests in every field so that I
have questions to ask, but I'm finding that sometimes it's really hard
to pry out of people what they're really, truly interested in; the real
challenge isn't having the person state it; it's understanding their
relationship with the subject and how you can interact with that
relationship that's the real hurdle\]