The Sedona Room is my writing oasis. An artist hand painted a sunrise over Cathedral Rock across the walls and ceiling, wrapping the room in warm desert hues, reds and oranges and blues stretching overhead while I sit with my feet kicked up on the couch, air conditioning humming, trying to make sense of fifteen … Read more
On a flight home from Boston, I found myself watching Bill & Ted Face the Music. It was Thanksgiving, and Jocelyn and I had just spent the holiday with my family, catching up with old friends and reminiscing about the past. As I settled into my seat and let the movie play, something about Bill … Read more
The conference room buzzed with tension. We were three days into a company summit in Sacramento, five round tables filled with team members hunched over laptops and printed documentation, hashing out our customer onboarding process. Papers rustled, pens tapped against notepads, and someone let out an audible sigh of frustration. What was supposed to be … Read more
Gerard and I were back at our usual lunch spot, sandwiches from Al’s, the window open to the noise of State Street, when he set his phone down on the desk between us and hit play on a grainy clip of a man in a red and blue checkered shirt sitting alone at a table … Read more
The mariachi band played just outside the open window, their melody drifting up and over the bustle of Faneuil Hall. Gerard and I sat in our corner office, suite 720 at 84 State Street, with sandwiches from Al’s unwrapped on the desk between us. The energy of Boston, vibrant, chaotic, alive, surged below. It was … Read more