There is a little pudgy kid I know who dreamed of becoming a baseball player. He wanted to play for the New York Yankees, to be a left-handed pitcher known for his nasty curveball and his blue glove. He spent years working on his stuff, imagining the roar of Yankee Stadium as he struck out batter after batter. Some nights he'd even imagine throwing a perfect game.
I remember he spent his summer nights watching the Yankees game on TV quietly thinking to himself that'll be me one day.
That kid is me.
Then life happened. After high school baseball, I went to college, became a consultant, and eventually quit my job to become an artist, programmer, and entrepreneur.
Yung Pete would be devastated.
My dream of being a baseball player faded into the background, but it left me with a lesson I didn’t expect: as adults, we let the world’s expectations turn every pursuit into a career path. We lose that sense of childlike wonder—the joy of chasing something big and bold, just because it excites us.
If we don’t keep our dreams alive, if we don’t talk about them, we risk losing that wonder entirely.
When was the last time you thought about your dream? And when was the last time you asked someone about theirs?
Dreams show us what matters most—our priorities, our values, our deepest hopes. But we rarely make room for them to breathe and evolve in our busy lives.
I believe everyone carries a dream deep down, even if they don’t talk about it or think it’s too far out of reach.
Some dreams are bold and world-changing: I dream of becoming a leader who creates peace and equality for all.
Others are deeply personal: I dream of building a family where love and laughter fill every corner of our lives.
And some are concrete and tangible: I dream of buying a little cottage in the countryside, with a big backyard for a brown lab to run free.
Some dreams feel within reach, lighting us up with hope. Others seem impossibly distant and hard to achieve.
Some dreams slip through our fingers no matter how hard we work for them. But even the ones we don’t achieve leave an imprint. They remind us of what matters and encourage us to bring those pieces into our lives.
So today, I want to share my dreams with you. And maybe, by the end, inspire you to share yours.
Art that Evolves
I have two dreams that feel like I’ve carried in recent years.
The first is to make art that evolves to reflect us as individuals and the world.
This dream has manifested itself in many different pursuits.
On a small scale, it’s come to life through n-gen and Day by Data. These apps repackage a user’s personal data and present it in an engaging, reflective way. I see this as just the beginning for how I want to create art that connects people with their data.
Another approach to recognizing this dream was through my first true artwork, Nebulae, a piece where I used sensors to capture data in real-time and transform it into visual art. It was the first time I ever submitted to an art contest, and it meant a lot to see it displayed and win a few awards.
The piece and technology are what I hope to eventually refine into an at-home art frame that hosts a collection of artworks that responds to the owner’s data and the environment it’s placed in.
Finally, maybe one day, this work will culminate in something monumental, like the New York City MoMAthon—a live, data-driven artwork hosted in the MoMA during the New York City Marathon. Using data from each racer’s run, this piece would create art that mirrors the journey of 26.2 miles, growing and shifting in real time. It would highlight both the collective energy of the marathon and the unique experience of each runner, connecting participants and viewers in a shared moment of movement and reflection.
Crazy? Stupid? Maybe.
But it’s a dream.
Keepin' Time
The second dream is rooted in my love for music. There was a time long-ago I dreamed of being a musician, but I don’t have the chops or talent for that (sorry, Pops).
Still, I’ve found ways to live small parts of that dream. I’m the drummer for a band and, separately, trying to play some jazz with a few high-school buddies on the streets of New York City.
These pursuits aren’t the full realization of any pop-star lifestyle, but they’re enough to bring joy and meaning into my life. They remind me that dreams don’t have to be fully achieved to matter. Even small fragments of a dream can be deeply fulfilling.
These dreams, like all dreams, are fluid. They evolve with me, taking on new shapes and challenges as life moves forward, keeping me engaged and curious.
Even if they shift, even if they feel out of reach some days, they guide me. They remind me to keep building, keep exploring, and to never settle.
Why Dreaming is Important
When I was deciding whether to leave a stable job and pursue a completely new path, I kept coming back to a single dream: exploring data as a means of self-expression and discovery through art.
Specifically, I imagined a life where every day I went for a run, and based on my Strava data, the art on my wall would change—a living, breathing reflection of my journey.
That dream of building this type of art became my north star. It cut through the noise of negotiating salaries, titles, and promotions, and oriented me toward something that felt meaningful and true to who I am. The cost of not trying to pursue it became far clearer than the tradeoffs involved.
Originally, it was a start-up idea to help generative artists turn data into art. Over time, it has evolved into the solo artistic pursuit I described earlier.
Of course, there have been tradeoffs in this pursuit: less money, stability, and time and energy for other people and things I love.
But I’ve been incredibly fortunate along the way.
I’ve had loving parents who let me move back in to save money while I got this whole shebang off the ground.
I’ve had amazing friends who have supported me, shared my work, and cheered me on—even though I've missed nights out or trips to focus on a new integration or piece.
And I’ve had a wonderful girlfriend who has been my biggest cheerleader, best marketer, and the person who believes in me even on the days when I struggle to believe in myself.
I’m still not where I want to be, and there’s so much more work to do.
But I’ve realized that even being in the midst of the pursuit matters. If I hadn’t given these dreams some credence, I wouldn’t have talked about them. If I hadn’t talked about them, I wouldn’t have found the love and support that has carried me forward.
This is what dreaming has taught me: it’s not about completion, but about the connections and growth that come with the pursuit.
So think about your dreams. Talk about them. And find a way to make some room for them in your life.
Your Challenge
This week, I have a challenge for you: ask someone about their dreams. It could be a friend, family member, a partner, or a coworker. It could even be a stranger you strike up a conversation with. If you’re feeling bold, share one of your own dreams too.
And if you'd like to share your dream with me, I’d love to hear it. Reply to this email or leave a comment—I’d love to hear about your aspirations and chat about them.
To embody this challenge, I asked my mom about her dreams. She shared that she’d love to start painting again or write a memoir about her life growing up in Queens and navigating a career in the male-dominated business world.
To be honest, I was surprised to hear about her appetite for writing, and it’s inspiring to think about what she could create, and it reminded me how dreams can take root at any stage of life. I can’t wait to see what she brings to life.
Something Beautiful: Flowers from Georgia
In the week I drop an extremely introspective post about why we should dream more, I’d also like to introduce a new section to the newsletter: Something Beautiful
Each week, I want to share a piece of art that caught my eye.
This first week, the honor goes to the graphic designer Georgia and her beautiful, elegant flower petal design.
The progression from a simple flower shape to falling petals in the reel is stunning.
I’ve never really been able to draw flowers well, but I really like the simplicity and depth of this design. I want to take a swing at trying to replicate this in code and with data sometime this week.
Something caught your eye this week? Let me know by sharing it in the comments or in a reply to this email.
Beautifully written