Context & Craft

I’m writing this from the Jersey side, looking toward where the city skyline is supposed to be, though, to be honest, it’s far enough away that I can’t actually see it. Most people in this area are fueled by overpriced espresso, but I recently found an amazing spot and have been finding my clarity in Afghan Chai. There’s something about that specific heat and spice that cuts through the noise better than any double-shot ever could.

By day, I’m a venture co-founder. But my work isn’t really about "sprints" or "algorithms." To me, it’s a relentless pursuit of understanding human thought and questioning how we arrive at the truth. It’s about the "why" behind the user, not just the "how" of the build.

After the work day ends, you’ll usually find me in the gym or the pool, late into the night. My routines are a bit... different. While others might be training for "gold-plated" muscle size without mobility (no offense!). I’m focused on the kind of functional strength I needed back in my serious football/soccer days.

I’m often the only person in the gym balancing on a yoga mat or a balance ball, practicing surfing movements miles away from the nearest ocean. It looks a bit mad, I’m aware. But I believe in being hard on yourself and doing the "weird" things that actually matter. Whether it’s signing up for a trail ultramarathon two months after my first half-marathon or mastering a specific mobility flow, I’m interested in the craft of the self.

On my table sits a lacquer bowl and spoon sent to me all the way from Kyoto. It represents a different kind of "technology." It’s an object that required time, specific humidity, and the steady hand of a master working the Rokuro (the lathe) to exist. It’s a physical manifestation of context.

Because we are at a tipping point. We are surrounding ourselves with AI that can process everything but feel nothing (for now). As a person in tech, I see the disconnect. We are building incredible engines, but we are still trapping them inside glass rectangle screens that filter out the messiness and beauty of being human.

In this space, Context & Craft, I’ll be exploring:

I don’t want to build (or be) something that’s just shiny on the surface. I’m looking for the grain, the friction, and the truth.

Welcome to the journey.

Taishi