1000 days project

"We are what we repeatedly do"

Will Durant, The Story of Philosophy: The Lives and Opinions of the World's Greatest Philosophers (1926)

The 1000 day project is my attempt to steer myself consciously towards the things that are most important to me.

Every day for 1000 days I will work towards my goals in a structured way. I will be posting daily updates on this website.

The 1000 day project runs from 26th December 2015 to the 21st September 2018, which is my 30th birthday.

In the past I have successfully completed two 100 day projects (100 portraits in 2010 and 100 blogs in 2011). In 2012 I spent 1000 hours drawing and painting.


Lovely varied day, unexpectedly in Cambridge. Committed to going to the Fitzwilliam museum and copying an etching for an hour, which felt great. Reminded me of drawing in the Met in New York, except no-one came up to look at my drawing, with the exception of a tiny Japanese girl carried by her mother.

Discussed exoplanets, spacecraft and religion. Again the difference between knowing something and truly apprehending the truth of it; I know and understand that it is probable that there are planets where it rains molten rubies, but the idea that there really, truly is a place out there right this very second being rained on by liquid gemstones is just too much for my brain to process. Cannot get myself to assimilate the knowledge properly, it is only an abstract fact not a physical reality.


Struggled supremely with myself today. Couldn't get out of bed, felt fatigued, low-spirited, exhausted. Frustrating driving lesson, where I made the same errors of judgement I always make, and perpetuated the problem by getting annoyed at myself and making more slips.

Need something to go right, a concrete win to give me some self-respect. Goodness knows I'm not going to get any from my art, which is a nightly reminder of my own limitations. Can scarcely comprehend the quality of real works of art when I look at them online and in my books. There are so many endless examples of skill, design, sensitivity that my studies make me sick to look at. Like everything in life, I shouldn't compare; if I didn't know what was possible and what so many others have achieved I would be blissfully ignorant and extremely content with my efforts. Still, twiddling about with clouds is somewhat therapeutic when I get down to it, so whilst the result is garbage the exercise in itself wasn't wholly futile.

Failed to go for a walk, failed to do any of the work I have on. Typed up some quotations from the popular science books I've been reading and then wrote a little script to format and organize some of my personal notes. Both unnecessary tasks gave the much-needed sense of purpose and achievement that has been so lacking recently. Again the product may be pointless, but the process itself becomes the purpose.


Reading interrupted by stressful business call, unbillable. Really hope I can get a full-time job soon so I can have structured free time; at the moment there is always the threat of an unanticipated support request or server to fix.

Pleasant walk with old school friend, for whom I enjoyed cooking a good wholesome supper. Saw two adjoining fields swathed in gossamer strands, swaying as a sea in the low October sun. Extraordinary, and invisible when not picked out by the low-angle light. Fallen crabapples scenting the air with a cidery smell.

Looking forward to a business meeting in London and some proper downtime with friends at the weekend.

Seem to switch into a different mode when I am painting in which I can't harness the careful attention and slow focus that I use when drawing. Rush everything blindly; wrong shapes, wrong colours. Need to find a way to make myself slow down and take care.


Unexpected tax bill a test of stoic resolve. A passing cloud. Made me want to paint so I faced up to the fear of failure and pushed through the inertia to daub some canvas. Felt good, though now my room stinks of turpentine.

Ready to look at art again, after glutting on my travels I. Can't wait to get to a gallery and see something good.

Reading up on happiness and life satisfaction. Difference between the experiencing self and the remembering self. Social science that makes sense and is interesting, but are the studies reproducible? Is it legitimate science? I see many people sceptical of the findings and I don't know the best way forward. All knowledge contingent, today's frontier is tomorrow's suburbia.


Walk around Ickworth with Jess. Dark, dank, autumnal still-green woods, sheep, the middle classes at large.

Wave of euphoria ebbing, settling back to lower spirits, despite waking this morning with the word 'eudaimonia' looping through my mind.

Too tired to be careful with the drawing.


Lunch with classicists and art historians in Cambridge, lovely interlude from country life and routine interactions with family, clients and prospective employers.

Consciously trying to eat well and resist the many opportunities and pressures to get treats. Probably diminishing my willpower reserves which might be better expended elsewhere but it feels good to master my natural weaknesses. So in total, I'm a teetotal, vegetarian, non-treat-eating martyr-recluse who lives at home with his father and leaves the house once or twice a week for a careful dose of social engagements. Strangely, I'm feeling jolly positive about it all, probably because I feel I'm in control of things and am able to shape and mould my days through what seems to be a productive and healthy routine.

Interested in the longitudinal study of the Harvard men to find out what makes a good life. Drawn inexorably to the idea that there is some elusive recipe for wellbeing. Any conclusions drawn from that study will surely be modified or overturned completely, but the suggestions that have arisen from it are compellingly simple and are probably as good as any other tenents around which to build a life. Good relationships are central. Mine are more or less adequate, with one glaring exception which I will have to steel myself to mend.


Another good day. Had a phone interview with a multinational technology firm, which went well and flattered my self-image. A day well-spent in preparing for it.

Secret to happiness: being busy, having purpose, doing things for others, having harmonious relationships. Cooked dinner for dad and Jess and felt good about it.

Skim-read some of the blog I wrote five years ago; pleased at how richly fertile my mind was, how inquiring and wide-ranging, and how the research I was doing then is still a fundamental stratum to my worldview today. Feel like I'm much more pragmatic, human, forgiving now, and that can only be a good thing.

The only sensible questions to pursue are how best to be happy, how to love life.


Feeling extremely positive. Really enjoying diving deep into research about goals, happiness and business optimization.

Another driving lesson, another walk, another spot of work, then cooked dinner for my sister and read a little. Busy, active, productive; a good balance.


Couldn't sleep last night, so many racing thoughts and ideas bursting unbidden forth.

Thought about business ideas, about art. Idea of making a beautiful sketchbook and just posting it to someone with instructions that they should enjoy it for ten days then post it on to someone they know and trust who will also enjoy it, and so on for a year. Could contain website that reveals return address at the end of the project.

Or a sketchbook that I do a drawing in then post to another artist to add their own drawing, and so on until it is full.

The same but with a modern day illuminated manuscript.

Really enjoying having a routine 10,000 steps a day. Feel good from the walking, and have the decision made for me about what to do if ever I have a spare hour.

Fully immersed myself in researching a new business idea, which is all about self-development, setting goals that help you be the happiest and best person you can be. Trying to solve my own problem and systemise the solution.


Routine walk, work, cook, draw. Lost myself in some coding for a while, enjoyed the sense of purpose and achievement, despite it being more or less useless in itself.

Wonderful reds, vivid yellows, distant shimmers of silver in the trees in the hedgerows. Wish there were fewer cars, no people and more rights of way. Think of the peasant poet and how he used to roam for uninterrupted hours; impossible now when even a quiet byroad has footfall and horses and the occasional car.

Crushed chestnuts, clouds in puddles, wind in wires, skylarks and big brown fields.

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