Thursday nights are for editing the newsletter. This week, I am exhausted, so this will read as more of a status report.

I’m about 225 pages into The Autobiography of Malcolm X, and I’m hitting an obstacle of understanding.

My hypothesis: My concept of the 1950s is hazy, so I’m unable to draw connections.

Monday morning, I made a plan for the week. I don’t think the week got the memo.

Tuesday afternoon, I filed for EYE OF APOLLO LLC. This allows me to open a bank account and gives me the foundation for trademarks. One must be an entrepreneur to practice art full-time.

Those without a business always talk about the luxury of tax write-offs, but I don’t hear anyone with a business talk about it.

Misinformation about business ownership is rampant; knowing the questions to ask comes over swimming in the waters of legitimate business.

Everybody loves to eat, and few love to hunt.

I see why business owners seem unapproachable. Some are. When you put your own money up and it’s your neck is on the guillotine, you’re a different person; you’re you.

I feel bad telling my friends no when they want to hang out. I love them. Many are academics or the medical field. For them, time spent studying is their currency. For me, time and money are capital so I must be strategic about every engagement.

Time is not money. Time + money = attention.

Attention is the most precious currency.

Wednesday night, I took the train downtown for a brand moodboard photoshoot. If I’m going to be in Chicago, being knowledgeable of the city’s ins and outs is responsible.

I haven’t gone to the gym because I’ve been prioritizing sleeping 8 hours.

Normally, my day job doesn’t spill into me-time, but this week it did. Compromising free time to pay bills makes me feel powerless, and is a significant reason I seek self-employment.

Otherwise, I’m mission-driven. I do not fully believe any employer will help me walk in my life’s purpose. Maybe I’m wrong.

My job is mostly enjoyable, and comparatively… I’ve got a great gig.

I have a founder’s mindset, so something must give, eventually.

The game of power gets bloody.

Thursday morning, I sent an email to my supplier because production is taking longer than was agreed upon.

Within the heart of a monopoly is an owner who wants to control their own business, so they don’t need to wait on someone else to deliver. The owner/company believes no one is more dependable than self. They may be correct, but is this right?

Friday morning, I am going to the gym no matter how much sleep I get, because I am cranky when inactive.

Since September, I’ve been hypersensitive to everything that pulls my attention, and taking note of every instance where I allow my attention to sway.

Communicating like this feels rash, but I promised to be honest about the process of starting a brand. I don’t know how to be more honest.

I understand why Beethoven may have been cranky. When you’re coordinating so many uncontrollables, your sanity can go with it if you aren’t careful.

Until Next Time, Wolves.

Kindness always wins,

Apollo