A red baseball cap with a tan suede brim.
In the Upper Room: Dance VIII, by Phillip Glass.
A pallet knife loaded with cadmium red medium, straight out of the tube.
Comic books by Hergé featuring Tintin and his dog Snowy.

The 6-dimensional spacetime theory from my fine art program, Randomation.
A proposal for internet economic policy I call bartered sponsorship.
The final leftover crumb of a frosted strawberry Pop-Tart.
Instant Mexican espresso.

A moving shadow captured in the corner of my eye.

Temporal distortion in rap music.
Chicago-style hotdogs and a side of fries.
A chapter titled "14 May 1905" in Einstein's Dreams by Alan Lightman.

My seeming inability to buy a comfortable pair of shoes.
Blue jeans and an extra-large white cotton t-shirt.
Never having to wear a tie.

A black notebook containing the writings of my mentor, the late Arthur Hoener.
A high school physics teacher we called "the Wiz."
An algebra teacher that trusted me.
Parents.

Eno's vast aural landscapes.

The wall of still packed boxes in my new apartment.
The black and white paintings of Robert Motherwell.

Things that form illusionary patterns like faraway clouds and overactive imaginations.

What she smells like when she's happy.
Russian Constructivism.
Teaching others a new way to approach a problem.
An unsolicited smile from a stranger.

A sense of personal honor.
An overwhelming desire to learn more.

The baby's laughter in the distance, penetrating the din of the city.

Seeing the world through one good eye.

Warm rain.

Sleeping in my own bed after traveling for a week or so.
Singing while driving alone and getting caught by someone in another car.
Not bothering to read all the lists I've made.

Seeing, thinking, sleeping.

Talking to dogs.