James A. Reeves
A writer and designer in the Middle West who makes midnight mix tapes and writes about faith in the digital age.

Notebook

Snapshots and inspiration about making things and finding a little faith in the twenty-first century.

Static Mood
Heavy Metal Instructions
Dream Inventory
An Ongoing Exercise in Accretion
Taipei/Tokyo Collages
A Partial Inventory of a Night Market in Taiwan
Eighteen Levels of Hell
Naoshima Notes
Tokyo Notes
Notes on God
A Walk in London
Figure With Meat
Naming the Snow
2024 Rotation
Grey
Guanyin of Eleven Heads
A New Dark Age
Track ID
A Tale of Judgment and Grace
A Psychedelic Throb
They Enter Our Minds Like Bats
Someday We Will Conjure New Gods to Console Us
Scene from My Notebook
A Staggering Kind of Stillness
Debris
Altar
Mysterium
On a Shrinking Globe in an Expanding Universe
Instead of Disappearing Completely
Why Am I in Ohio?
A Craving for Polar Horror
Mirrors to Deflect Danger
Why Does the Brain Torture Itself?
Starting a New Big Thing
Loss Response
Hallucinations and Routines
2023 Rotation
Prophets
Desert Nomenclature
100 Degrees and Snow
Lost Lake and Last Chance Mountain
Orientation
Seven Years Ago, I Placed a Significant Bet
The Effects Are Deeper Than the Struggle to Remain Upright
A Scribble, an Exploded Rocket, and an Oyster Omelet
Goddammit, I Just Graded a Fucking Robot
She Reminisced About the Cambrian Period
What Happens Here Happens Everywhere
Letting Go of the Maps in My Head
Technology Might Have Peaked With Magnetic Tape
Suddenly We Found Ourselves Hiking
Church Attendance Is Lowest in Nevada
We Searched for 10,000 Acres of Sand
My Dithering has Reached Its Vanishing Point
And Entropy Makes Itself Known to Me
Towers of Red Rock Loomed Over Us Like a Beautiful Threat
So Much Civilization Where There Shouldn’t Be
The Reassuring Cadence of Living in the Sprawl
A Landscape that Functions Like Memory
The Games We Play in Museums
Landscapes Like Scenes from Tomorrow
Yet the Horizon Never Seems to Draw Closer
Ten Years Sober Today
And We Diligently Killed Zombies
The Sensation of Slippage Continues
Fever Dreams Enhanced by the American Government
Algorithms Cannot Compete With the Spectacle of Humans
The Sudden Lights of Vegas in the Valley Below
2022 Rotation
They Say It’s the Future, They Say It’s Useful for Us
Even if the Rewards Have Diminished
All the Little Red Bubbles
There’s Too Much Night Here
White Line Fever and the Higher Silence Within
My Screens Reflected the Sprawl
Vegas Architecture Hides From the Sun
A Dedicated Place Where I Can Tack Index Cards to the Wall
Taro Puffs the Size of Your Fist
Fireworks in the Parking Lot of a Gas Station
A Fingernail Moon Rose Over the Rockies
The First Pizza Hut is in Wichita
Movements Are a Relic of the 20th Century
Synthetic Tracks for the Motorway
Faded Graffiti Like a Vanished Wish
The Spirit of the Information Superhighway
People Behaving Poorly in Glossy Architecture
Another Sleepless Night for Reasons Unknown
Repetition Is Where Things Get Interesting
A Body of Water Was Named After a Man Who Was Roasted Alive
There Would Be Less Screaming
A House Always Made of Freshly Chopped Wood
Some Faceless Behemoth Purchased It
The Bare Trees Reveal New Scenery
Sleep Has a Moral Dimension
Sometimes You Can’t Find the Door
It Feels Like a Video Game
A White Honda with a Crumpled Fender
If We Can Rearrange Time, We Can Do Anything
A Bright Daytime Moon Hung in the Sky
My Brain Has Run Out of Sleeping Juice