Welcome to a website. Within the links, you can (eventually) find a variety of posts by clicking on the pictures or tabs in the banner. Articles on advertisements, notes on the arts—like books and bad tv shows—thoughts on arbitrary topics, when they arise. For now, look about! Or don't. Your choice.

In the first half of the 2025, I'll be reading all of Shakespeare's plays, in a somewhat defined order. If you like Shakespeare or are simply curious how each play relates to modern life, click on the Bard.

The name of this website comes from two places: a moment in my past and Shakespeare’s way with words. When I was nine, a teacher called me “conceited” in front of the whole class. I didn’t really know what it meant, so I asked. That was the cue for her to hand me a dictionary and tell me to read it out loud: “Having an excessively high opinion of oneself.” Cue the laughter. I just stood there, stunned. Me? Excessive?

But then something clicked. My eyes caught the word conceit right above it, and I couldn’t stop turning it over in my mind. It had this sharpness to it, a kind of venomous rhythm, but its meaning was completely different. It wasn’t an insult—it was an idea. A metaphor. A connection. The kind of word that asks you to look closer.

Conceit. It’s not a word you hear much anymore, but it has a certain kind of elegance, like something out of a jazz riff—unexpected, layered, worth noticing. That’s why it stuck with me. That’s why it’s the website's name, partly.

For Shakespeare, one of my favorite moments is in As You Like It (Act V, Scene II), when Rosalind, disguised as a man, meets Orlando in the forest. Unaware he’s speaking to Rosalind, Orlando confesses his longing to marry her. Rosalind, playing along, calls him a "gentleman of good conceit" before prompting his vows. The line always stuck with me—the humor, the wordplay, and that clever little compliment hidden in plain sight.

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