The last two “shares” in this series, including today’s, are deeply personal in different ways. And while I didn’t know that I’d get comfortable enough to share all of these, surprisingly it was the “easy” tmsnyder FAQ yesterday that was the most emotional of these pieces for me to revisit this year while preparing for release. This possibly shows how much I miss feeling closer to a real mission in science and working with a team of really great people. Most of the time these days, even when doing my best work, I am incredibly lonely and also feel like I need to tiptoe on eggshells because everyone (ME INCLUDED!) is worried I don’t know how to control my health, watching every sign and signal of my life with a pain and fear I don’t recognize from my loved ones. Even in this corner of puzzles, I didn’t find much of the comfort or joy over Christmas when playfully releasing some sudoku in the world, proving my own test that I may need to be an anonymous designer again if I spend time in puzzles.

But I won’t be an anonymous human being, and will be deliberate in sharing thoughts, writings, and updates at another site to those mature enough to find it and contribute to a dialogue. That site will include some “artifacts” of my life that might be up for revisiting that year, or on permanent exhibition, including all the writings from Ready Layer One and others I’ve shared.

Today I want to share my mask. It was made while in residential care following a third hospitalization (and the second involuntary) in August 2023, and the last time I was not well controlled by medication, therapy, and lifestyle practices depending on how you view this series. The recovery from this episode, still ongoing, was much harder than any of the others, due to the mess of thoughts that came up during it, my lack of confidence in myself following it, large medical bills, legal troubles, and friendships I am scared to even “ping” because of some of the things that might have happened during it. When I had a choice to spend a crazy amount of dollars to go into residential care for a month to start to come to some acceptance with being bipolar, I took it. And acceptance is not just that I am bipolar and have creative bursts and high energy moments, but that it has real real danger with it and however smart someone thinks I am there is no way I can “outthink” my mania or hope to care for this by myself. I need to stay connected and open with doctors, therapists, and loved ones or I cannot be my best self and stay my best self.

Alongside a lot of work during residential care, there was a larger project to make your mask. The prompt was to make a picture of how the world sees you (the outside of the mask), while also capturing how you see yourself (the inside of the mask). My outward look is usually a “mirror” — I try to reflect your thoughts or feelings so except for obvious things I can’t hide like my love of science, puzzles, and games, you don’t get much outwardly most of the time. Even the inside of my mask has a twisted side which is how I think you think I see you. Maybe I am mostly an enigma. Inside my mask on my open side you can see in the emotional mix LOVE is strong but also SAD and LONELY. Around the rim of the mask I wrote an A-Z set of descriptors for me, in the style of some memorable writings from my past and often a changing inventory of adjectives and passions. To help those who want to actually know what those are without working through the video too much:

Amazing, Biotech leader, Compassionate, Diligent, Empathetic, Funny, Grandmaster, Helpful, Integrity, Joyful, Kind, Loving, Marathon runner, No nonsense, Ozymandius-like Observation, Problem solver, Questioning, Radiohead, Sudoku, Team builder, Uncon/venti/onal (written unconventionally), Van Gogh, Worrier, Xoogler, “Yes and,” and Zero to infinity.

The description above scratches the surface of the mask’s meaning, in the same way it scratches the surface of me at this moment in my life. But I am open to anyone who wants to see more.

Video of the artwork

I have a lot more therapy art, but nothing else that I am sharing this year or that is more directly “me”. I look at this many nights on my bed stand to understand which of the alphabet of problems and possibilities is the one for today.