
Daylight
Daylight Computer
A computer with a reflective LivePaper display — no backlight, no blue light, no eye strain. Computing that respects your biology.
The things you surround yourself with become the conditions of your life. Most of the modern world is designed to capture your attention without earning it. This is a collection of things that do the opposite — objects, tools, and practices that create conditions for high-quality attention, for rest, for aliveness.
Actual luxury and actual wisdom point in the same direction.
Good materials. Good light. Good silence. Good sleep. I use all of it. I wouldn’t recommend something I don’t keep in my own home.
The device you reach for first shapes how your morning feels — and the rest of your day. These are screens that respect your biology: no backlight, no blue light, no notifications fighting for your attention. Paper-like computing for people who want to think clearly.
Light is the deepest signal in biology — the master clock that synchronizes sleep, hormones, mood, and metabolism. Every light in my home after sunset is amber. Your eyes stop straining. Your body starts winding down without you deciding to. This is the single highest-leverage change you can make.
Synthetic materials, constant connectivity, processed everything — the modern world keeps your body in chronic low-grade fight-or-flight. The path back is not another app. It's restoring the conditions your body evolved in: natural materials against your skin, good sleep, things that work with your nervous system instead of against it.
What touches your skin absorbs into your body within minutes. These are the few natural products I actually use every day — simple, effective, nothing I can't pronounce.
The difference between a routine and a ritual is attention. A routine is something you get through. A ritual is something you are present for. The kettle I boil water in five times a day. The espresso maker I'm glad is on the counter. Every object here is an invitation to slow down.
You become what you surround yourself with. A well-designed environment doesn't require willpower — it makes the right choices effortless and the wrong ones invisible. These are objects worth caring about.
You cannot supplement your way out of a bad environment. Fix the light. Fix the sleep. Fix the stress. Then — and only then — optimize with the right tools and targeted supplementation.
The best bag is the one you don't think about. The best notebook is the one that makes you want to write. Carry objects that invite use, not objects that demand management.
Truth be told, I like nice things — maybe a little bit too much.
But I’ve learned something about the things I like: the ones that last, the ones I reach for every day, are never the ones that impressed me most. They’re the ones that disappeared into my life. The kettle I boil water in five times a day. The candles I light without thinking. The notebook I open every morning.
The things worth keeping are the ones you stop noticing — because they’ve become part of how you live.
That’s what this is. Not a list of impressive things. A list of things that became invisible by becoming essential. Things I’d give to a friend without hesitation. Things that, quietly, changed the shape of my days.
A carefully curated selection of good things.
No affiliate noise. No sponsored placements. Just things that work, chosen by someone who cares about this stuff as much as you do.