Space Walk
Swipe through this Space, then open any post to read, comment, or keep exploring.
I’m Bill. I live in Bedford, Ohio, and I usually have a few different things going on at the same time.
I like painting, old family photos, local history, building things online, and finding interesting stuff that sends me down a rabbit hole.
This space is really just a place for the personal side of things—photos, memories, artwork, projects, things I find interesting, and whatever else seems worth sharing.
Nothing too formal. Just my corner of Trejji.
I wanted a place inside my Space where people could stop by, say hello, share something, ask a question, or just join the conversation.
This is that spot.
My Trejji Space has a little bit of everything things I’m working on, my writing, my art, family stuff, and some of my dad’s photography. But this area is open for everyone.
So if you’re here, welcome. Pull up a chair, post something, and make yourself at home.
The new edition of The Dash: A Quiet Life in a Loud World is an expanded reflection on how modern life slowly takes ownership of our time through busyness, noise, financial pressure, constant connectivity, and the endless pursuit of more.
Most people do not lose their lives through one dramatic event. They lose them gradually, through small daily demands that leave them distracted, exhausted, and increasingly absent from their own days.
The book introduces the idea of building a maintained life one based on enough rather than endless growth. It explores concepts such as the freedom floor, quiet money, predictable income, one dependable engine, slow mornings, intentional silence, boredom, reduced news consumption, and living without the need to impress or constantly explain yourself.
The goal is not to abandon responsibility, ambition, or the modern world. It is to create a life stable enough that work supports living instead of consuming it.
Ultimately, the new edition is about reclaiming ownership of your time, attention, and peace. It asks readers to stop measuring life by productivity, status, or constant progress and begin measuring it by presence.
The central message is simple: your life does not need to be louder, larger, or more impressive. It needs to feel like it belongs to you.
The Dash: A Quiet Life in a Loud World - Second Edition will be available on Amazon soon.
A quiet mountain rises beyond a calm lake, framed by dense evergreens and touches of autumn color. The soft, misty sky and reflected landscape give the painting a peaceful, almost untouched feeling.
Another one of my landscape paintings. Just a calm little scene with water, trees, and enough peace and quiet to make real life look like it needs to settle down a bit.
Best kind of friendship is when nobody has to talk and it still feels fine.
Just sitting there counts.
Saves on conversation, too.
I saw something saying Kroger may be buying Giant Eagle, and if that turns out to be true, that would be a pretty big grocery shake-up around here.
The part that caught my attention is the idea that some stores might have to be sold off before regulators approve anything, especially in areas where Kroger already has a strong presence.
The Giant Eagle name may stay, at least for now, but you still have to wonder what this would mean for shoppers.
More choices? Fewer choices? Or just a new way to spend $87 on two bags of groceries?
There comes a point when a clean kitchen is more than just a clean room.
It feels like a reset. A little peace. One less thing sitting on your mind.
Funny how something that simple can make the whole house feel lighter.
Sometimes the errand isn’t really about the errand.
It’s just a reason to get out of the house, breathe a little, and clear your head for a few minutes.
Funny how a quick trip can feel like a reset.
Got up around 5:00 this morning, made breakfast, showered, and stopped at Circle K to grab a couple cold Starbucks Frappuccinos before work.
Nothing dramatic, just one of those regular early starts. Arrived at work around 6:30 and started the day from there.
A hot air balloon is lit from below, with a tall burst of flame glowing against the red and yellow fabric. It has a rough-edged kind of drama, all heat and canvas and sky.
A close-up of a dark orchid shows glossy red petals, a pale center, and speckled green-and-black edges against a soft purple background. It has a strange, elegant look — a little wild, a little theatrical.
In daylight, the rusted frame tells a different story — one of resilience, abandonment, and quiet industry. Cleveland’s skyline stands polished in contrast, while the aging bridge remains a stoic observer, remembering what progress forgets.
A metal washer fell from the Magnum XL-200 at Cedar Point and missed a guest’s head by inches.
Nobody was hurt, thank God, but that is not exactly what you want to hear before getting in line for a coaster.
Cedar Point inspected it and reopened the ride, but still… when something falls from that high, even a small part becomes a big deal.
Scientists think millions of planets could actually be forming in the giant rings of gas and dust around supermassive black holes.
Nothing has been directly spotted yet, but computer models suggest those areas may be creating planets the same way young stars do.
The universe is somehow even stranger than it already seemed.
Good to see some property tax relief aimed at seniors.
Now the question is whether it is enough to actually help people stay in their homes, or if it just sounds better on paper than it feels in real life.
Another mountain scene. Apparently I’m not done painting places where there are no passwords, traffic, or people asking me to download an app.
Found this old Gaither Vocal Band version of the National Anthem. No tricks, no overdoing it just five guys who can actually sing.
Sarah at graduation. One of those days where you realize they actually grew up while you were busy worrying about everything else.
Found this buried on my Facebook profile. I’m not sure what we thought we were doing out in the woods, but apparently standing on a fallen tree made us look official.
One of my dad’s Cleveland photographs. The bridge lights, the reflections on the water, and the empty night give it a calm look that Cleveland does not always get credit for.
One of my recent paintings. Mountains, trees, water—basically my attempt at painting somewhere quieter than real life.