When I first started on X (back when it was still Twitter), I had 81 followers.
No strategy. No hacks. I just wanted to connect with people about the things I loved: crypto, art, tech, and future-facing ideas.

Over the years, 81 quietly grew into a community of about 15,000.
It was organic, personal, and for a long time, it felt like home.
I'm proud of what I built there, not because of the number, but because of the genuine conversations, friendships, collectors who supported me, and creative sparks it helped ignite.

Second Realm flourished there, growing from an anonymous artist into an influential art studio.
I helped start crypto-native art movements there.
I'm very fond of what I built on that platform, perhaps even nostalgically so.

But for a while now, my tone has shifted.
I've grown increasingly frustrated.
Maybe it's been this way for some time, and since I've been in school over the past couple of years studying how AI is impacting the work environment, I hadn't really noticed.
But I'm noticing now, especially as graduation nears and I'm ready to reengage more deeply with my community.

But I've found it's harder to connect in a meaningful way than it was two years ago.
The noise is drowning out the signal.
Even when the right people are still there, finding each other feels like swimming upstream.

I realized that staying was not serving what I actually enjoy most:
curiosity, community, and creation.

This isn't really about leaving X in anger.
It's about leaving because it no longer feels aligned with where I want to be.

As for where I am heading, I'm focusing more intentionally on Farcaster.

I've been critical of Farcaster before, especially about how builder- and developer-centric the culture can be.
But that's also what gives it a certain kind of energy I value. It feels early, alive, and built by people who care.
It's not perfect. No place is.
But it offers something I need right now: a way to connect with like-minded, tech-forward people without battling an algorithm at every turn.

In a world where platforms can shift their priorities overnight, owning your identity and connections matters more than ever.
Farcaster is still early, but its foundation — open, decentralized, interoperable — feels like the kind of infrastructure that can support real community for the long haul.

This move isn't about chasing new trends.
It's about building on a foundation I have been laying for years.

I have been using Farcaster on and off for a while (FID: 5583).
This blog is published through Paragraph, a platform that uses crypto rails.
Our podcast is distributed via Pod.media, which also runs on crypto infrastructure.
I have been a crypto-native artist since 2019, coming into my own well before the NFT boom of 2021.

My entire content distribution model (if you want to call it that) has already moved to platforms that are building with onchain capabilities at their core.

I believe in composability.
I believe in the possibility that in a future when I am no longer here, people can build on the work I have left behind.

As I wrote in The Artist's Oath:

"I am here to leave behind a trail of meaning,
not a monument, but a direction others carry forward."

So it's about following what still makes me excited to show up online:
interesting conversations, new exploration, like-minded community.

If you're already there, I look forward to seeing you.
If you're curious, come find me.

Let's build what's next together.