Happy Birthday, Juxtapost: Year One / Year Two

One year ago today, I published my first Juxtapost article.

My goal was simple: keep it going for a year.

I called it an "almost weekly" series. It turned out to be a little more "whenever life gave me something worth sitting with and I could find the time to write about it." (Close enough.)

Looking back, though, I'm less interested in how many articles I published than in what committing to this project for a year has taught me.

When I started, I hoped Juxtapost would become an outlet for thoughts that didn't quite fit anywhere else. I’m a filmmaker, but I’m also an artist, a photographer, a husband and father, a chef, an entrepreneur and so on. Rather than write about just one topic, I decided to write about many - through one consistent lens: juxtaposition. Duality. Contrast. Tension. Harmony. That’s where I find meaning, and that’s where I wanted to invite others to explore and discover, too.

And, that's exactly what Juxtapost became. That, and a little more.

Here’s a short list of the lessons and observations I’m reflecting on as I look back over the first year of Juxtapost.

Writing helps me process.

One of the biggest surprises has been realizing that I don't just write down what I've already decided on.

More often than not, I discover what I think through the process of writing.

There's something about sitting with an idea long enough to shape it into an article that I feel is acceptable to share with the world that forces me to slow down. My initial reactions soften. More and more questions emerge. And connections I hadn't noticed before begin to reveal themselves.

I now find myself rereading some of my own articles from time to time.

Not because I think they're masterpieces.

Because sometimes I need the reminder.

The lesson I wrote six months ago is often one I still need today.

Meaning beats metrics.

When I launched Juxtapost, I knew it wasn't going to attract a massive audience.

Long-form writing rarely wins against short-form entertainment, and that was never really the point anyway.

What has surprised me is the number of messages I've received from people saying that a particular article arrived at exactly the right time.

Not every article resonates with every person.

But almost every article seems to resonate deeply with someone.

And, honestly, just one of those authentic, impactful connections makes the whole project worth the effort.

All of me.

If you've followed my work for any length of time, you've likely noticed that I'm not especially easy to categorize.

Some days I'm making documentaries for global corporations or local farms.

Other days I'm experimenting with recipes at Debbie's Daughters.

Or fundraising for Hoodox.

Or designing sticker sheets full of mutated pizza faces.

Or getting unexpectedly sensitive over a pair of shoes.

Juxtapost has quietly become the place where all of those parts of my life are allowed to exist together.

It's the one corner of the internet where I don't have to choose which version of myself to be. Instead, I get to explore how all of those seemingly unrelated interests influence one another.

And that's been one of the greatest gifts of this project.

Looking back.

Looking back through this first year, I noticed a beautiful fulfillment of the hope I cast in the very first article:

“…they’re designed to linger - sparking mindfulness, dialogue, or simply a moment of pause.”

Sure enough, the articles covered wildly different topics—dentists, monks, China, creativity, aging, rainbow shoes—but they all took on deeper meaning than the initial juxtaposition that sparked them.

That life is rarely as binary as we make it out to be. (Stains / Stillness)

That our assumptions deserve to be challenged by real experiences. (Rumors / Reality)

That our creative work is shaping us long before it reaches anyone else. (Practice / Performance)

That the second half of life may require different measuring tools for success. (Fluid / Crystal Part 2)

That behind every symbol—and every person—is a story worth hearing. (Spectrum / Story)

The throughline?

Slow down.

Stay curious.

Look and listen a little deeper.

Year Two

So... what's next?

Honestly, probably more of the same, along with a new spin or two.

I don't have a carefully planned editorial calendar, but I have a few drafts and a couple ideas up my sleeve.

Thank you to everyone who has read an article, shared one, sent an encouraging message, or simply spent a little time exploring these ideas with me over the past year.

Year One turned out to be more meaningful than I expected. Here's to seeing where Year Two leads.

Thanks for spending a little time looking a little deeper with me. 

I hope to see you here and there along the way.