A garden is not a gallery. Nothing here is finished, and nothing has to be.
This is where I keep notes that do not fit a paper or a repository: half-formed thoughts on graphs and consensus, things I read, places I walked, code I wrote at the wrong hour and liked anyway.
Raked sand
The stones stay. The sand gets raked again every morning. I like that as a model for writing in public: the ideas that matter are heavy enough to remain, and the rest is allowed to be redrawn.
Sit quietly, doing nothing, spring comes, and the grass grows by itself.
Expect short entries. Expect gaps. The gaps are part of it.